Turn of the Tides

As the weather changes, so does my house. Now that Sheryl has been here a year, and seeing as that we're getting married and all, the suggestions for home improvements increase.

Now this isn't a bad thing... as a matter of fact, I mostly like it. As my mom mentioned, the house is becoming a home - don't forget, I've lived in this house for 10 years already!

But a year ago, my backyard was a rock garden. Now, as I sit out on my dilapidating deck, the freshly cut grass almost shimmers in its greenness. The shepherd's hook, which didn't exist in my yard until last year, is home to the wind chimes I gave Sheryl for Christmas. In a few weeks, it willl most certainly also be the bearer of a hanging potted plant.

The front of the house is changing, too. The dying old light fixture is gone, replaced by something a bit more contemporary. The crappy mailbox has gone to pasture as well. I think the new one can withstand a nuclear barrage.

Inside, the hallway that was home to Red Wings paraphernalia is repainted and relighted, proudly displaying a few vinyl albums' artwork.

The piece de resistance is the nearly complete kitchen - awaiting only a countertop and garbage disposer. Aside from the rock garden cum lush green grass backyard, the kitchen is a shocking transformation.

The thing is, I've often thought about doing some of the upgrades that we have been doing. But for some reason or another, they never happened.

These changes are the good changes. Changes that don't de-rail your days too much. Not like my beloved vehicle, which I had completely fooled myself into thinking that I'd had it for over 100,000 miles and it was still in good shape. This weekend, it was brought to my attention that the springs in the front are busted and to replace them would cost nearly $800. So it looks like I'm in the market for a new vehicle. After all, with the right deal, that $800 can guarantee me four months in a new car...

Seeing as that I'm nearly 41, I ought to finally heed David Bowie's advice. He once said to me in a sing-song voice: "Turn and face the strain... Ch-ch-changes... Pretty soon you're gonna get a little older."

And George Carlin interjected: "I put a dollar in one of those change machines. Nothing changed. "

So to them and everyone else, I say: What's that got to do with needing a new car?