As we prepare to enter our new home, the subject of fencing has been an ongoing concern. In Arizona, we had cinder block walls to keep the dogs at bay, but out here, wood and vinyl are seen everywhere.
I like the looks of western wooden posts and fences, except that they wear down so fast. It doesn’t take but a couple of seasons before the new wood starts looking rundown and turns all grey and bleached out.
So, in order to keep Sir Bark-a-lot (Bruiser) from disturbing our new neighborhood and becoming Puppy personae non grata, it looks like we’ll encase our small back yard with 6-8 ft. white vinyl panels. I am still trying to figure out how and where to put a pool, deck, and maybe a spa back there.
Figuring out who to contract for both the back yard as well as the inside repairs/renovations is the next challenge. I have been asking nearly everyone I meet if they know of any contractors and Diana, a server at my favorite restaurant, said she’d hook me up with the number of a very popular contractor she knows. I am listening to her, because she is a server who also happens to be a realtor.
We are still set to close on 9/1 and that will be a good day. Bed and furniture shopping has been all we’ve been doing lately, and I am a terrible shopper.
I’m a buyer.
I don’t care to haggle, barter, cajole, or otherwise waste any more time than necessary in trying to wrangle a few dollars off a sales price. I see a bed; I lie in it.
But no, I must endure the Domestic Despot Osama bin KAREN who insists on negotiations that rival any held in Camp David by world leaders. After going through the entire history of bed and bedding, whichever poor soul who drew the short straw will be stronger for their encounter.
Whatever doesn’t kill you makes you stronger, right?
So, after looking at twenty or thirty beds, each and every one of them looking and feeling exactly the same, the negotiations begin. Karen begins with “I know absolutely nothing about buying a new bed. Can you help?”
Now, if I were her coach, I would say don’t ever lead with a weak line like that, but I shut up and watched the scene unfold. She used the line in her inquiry several times, and I could see the salesman starting to get flustered. I know he was getting flustered, because I have seen that look in the mirror at least a thousand times before.
Twenty minutes later, Karen is triumphant. She puts the finishing touches on the delivery of our two La-Z-boy chairs to go in our den in front of the fireplace. She also managed to get a new bed, so overall it was a real banner day in the Diaz household.
Watching the Master in action elicited big praise for my girl.
Whaddya know? I actually learned something.