We Are Not The Joneses

Summer is filled with sunscreen, backyard barbeque, and Jonsein’ to be the Joneses. Decks are primed and stained, cars washed and waxed, lawns tended like favorite children. In our idyllic neighborhood, we share banana breads and casseroles, watch each other’s children, and mill around one another’s driveways discussing the lawns. We admire, compare, and criticize the patches of green that grace our cul-de-sac. And just like our 1950’s predecessors, we seek to attain a Kelly green Lego lawn.

We are astounded at the thick carpet of grass next door and suspect it’s owner to be a midnight fertilizer. We strategize ways to even up a lumpy surface. We wonder at the weeds that seem to defy the laws of nature and poison. This year, we even shared multiple tons of sand in a desperate attempt to create level surfaces.

Personally, I am just grateful that ours is not the worst of the bunch. Peer pressure is a strong motivator, but we are not the Joneses.

The humble square of earth in front of my house is lumpy, won’t green up, and the edges never seem to come out straight. It’s rarely even with the adjacent yards and the boy who cuts it forgets to blow the clippings. Therein lies the problem. A boy, not my husband, cuts our lawn. And a boy can never love a lawn as a man ought to.

My husband would rather opt out of the Jones chasing altogether. He proudly proclaims to Mr. Jones: I’ll make you look good.

Call it laziness, but we prefer well adjusted. We simply have better things to do on Saturday afternoons than pamper the lawn and mother the mulch.

The backyard is worse. My husband built a huge deck, but the stain he used turned out – let’s say, not good. He likes to pretend it looks okay.

“What did you put on it?” Mr. Jones asked.

Mumble, mumble, not sure, mumble, mumble, grunt.

“No, really – I want to know,” he persisted, “So I don’t put it on mine.”

Cut to Year Two:

“What are you going to do about it?” asked Mr. Jones.

“Nothing.”

“You can’t leave it like this!”

“Sure I can. When I’m ready to sell the house, I’ll slap on a fresh coat.”

I told you we were not the Joneses.

This year, at the beginning of deck maintenance season, Mr. Jones mentioned his weekend staining plans.

“Again?” my husband asked. (He still doesn’t get that it’s an annual thing.) “Tell you what,” he said, “I’ll pay you not to stain your deck.”

Mr. Jones took a deep, cleansing breath and replied:

“Why don’t you take that money and hire someone to do it for you?”

We’re not the Joneses and no one gets our jokes.

It doesn’t matter anyway because another neighbor just put in a rock patio, and everyone knows rock crushes wood. So there.

In a sick way I’ll miss lawn and deck season. I can’t wait to bust out the Halloween decorations!

Jonesin’ to be The Joneses

Piggy Back Rides – Doggie Style

Sacred Heart Diet – Day One

So here’s breakfast, and yes, fruit does taste better when served on my Gallery Collection Whiteware by Southern Living At HOME. Here’s the thing about eating fruit (which is not my favorite) – it cuts out sugar cravings.

The soup is decent, but I definitely know it’s “diet” soup. It’s okay. I had a bowl for lunch, then two for dinner. I also ate a little fruit here and there throughout the day. Tried the black coffee thing this morning and all I can say is that would certainly decrease my coffee intake – also a good thing. Had some tea this afternoon, but without honey it’s not my thing either!

Welcome to After the Bubbly – The Blog!

Thank you all for making After the Bubbly such a success on WhoIsIsabella. If you haven’t checked it out today, you must. Great Racing Dragons is a tale of parental pride gone wrong – way wrong.

I want to hear from you! I hope you’ll stick around to comment and join in the discussion here. Feel free to comment, ask questions, or give your own advice. Treat this space like your virtual neighborhood driveway. Bring your own lawn chair, a beverage of your choice, and all those opinions!

I will do my part with tidbits from the daily trenches, updates on “the writing”, and whatever else crosses my path.

See you on the driveway!