“Life is like riding a bicycle. To keep your balance you must keep moving.” – Albert Einstein
It’s been basically a month since we have been in our Tampa home. Make that a busy month. Having hunkered down in Greensboro, NC for 8 years, I had forgotten how much I hate moving. I really hate moving. I can’t think of a single component of moving I like; even finishing moving. Due to timing issues, we arrived in Tampa about a week before our household goods did. My first thought was “what a pain, I hate moving”. As it turns out, this was a good thing because our rental house was filthy.
We were told that a cleaning crew would come through and give the place a thorough hosing. That turned out to be someone racing a vacuum over the carpets in the 3 bedrooms. As only the bedrooms have carpet, I’m sure they put in a solid 7 minutes cleaning the house. Actually, the only things hosed were us. We spent two full days cleaning every nook and cranny and, in the interest of brevity (and my blood pressure), I’ll spare everyone the gory details. Suffice it to say the makers of Windex, 401, Comet and a half dozen other organ-destroying cleaners could have made their 2014 commercials in this place. Excessive cleaning is why I hate moving.
Maybe I should give the (illusionary) cleaning crew a pass. It is scientifically possible they could not see the appalling dirt due to the meretricious (I had to bust the thesaurus finding a strong enough synonym for ‘gaudy’) wall colorings. Apparently, at some point in the past, Lowe’s Home Improvements had a Buy-A-Gallon-Of-This-Crime-Of-Nature-Color-And-We’ll-Give-You-Eighteen-Other-Crimes-Of-Nature-Colors-Free Sale. Rachel, who had seen the house between the former tenants and us, mentioned the walls were all kinds of funky colors but failed to convey the level of retina-corroding, vertigo-instilling tints. Three days of painting ensued – including more cotton candy pink than is lawful – converting it from a clown house to something resembling a home. The almost guaranteed need to paint is why I hate moving.
Better Homes and Gardens will not be lavishing any “Best of Lawns” on us anytime soon. But, compared to the interior, the scores a solid D minus. I think part of this is a Tampa (maybe Florida?) thing. Go into just about any neighborhood and you’ll see a hodgepodge of lawn quality. One yard will look like the dark side of the moon (or Wyoming) and the next will look like a Mini Pebble Beach. Ours is sort of a marriage of Hiroshima two minutes after Little Boy and Jurassic Park. I’m no soil expert but we have some combination of sand, black sand, and some kind of sand that doesn’t engender robust growing potential. Covering it all are leaves from a particularly annoying tree that, while appearing full and verdant, loves to rain leaves in bushels. On the positive side, there is a Star Fruit tree whose fruit is voraciously attacked by some fly-like bug and mowing, which was a 1.5-2 hour project in NC, takes about 8 minutes. Seriously. And half of that is wrestling the lawnmower out of the shed.
I really hate moving. But I really like this house!! I love the open floor plan and 2 sets of French doors. I love how the tile floor keeps everything cool. I also really like how close we are to everything. It seems like we are 5-10 minutes away from so many cool things to see and do.
Johnny Rocket's Journeys 
So sorry we are going to miss the o-so-vibrant paint. It may have helped keep me awake past 9:00 p.m. thus really impressing you! GREAT story and yes, we have both had our share of moving, and it’s enough to last a lifetime.
Loved the “retina-corroding, vertigo-instilling tints.” I could feel myself losing the ability to read as I imagined cataracts forming in my eyes..