Robbing Peter to Pay Paul

Have you ever robbed Peter to Pay Paul as a means to manage your family budget?  I'm a pro.  But I'm finding that sometimes I bite off more than I can chew.  Sometimes, the robbing part is A LOT more easy than the paying part.

Our front yard and back yard are normal-sized, and relatively easy to maintain.  We have 4 teenagers, and, look at that...lawn equipment that Hugo has had for years.  Held in storage, waiting to be used once again.  Out of storage, in its new garage, ready to go.  Hugo had been heard saying he would be the only Mexican working in his yard.  We'll see, Amigo.

The kids were doing great.  Hugo was enjoying the respite from a life mostly spent indoors, as he would trim and pluck and prune, and enjoy home ownership once again.

Then, one day as Adam mowed, it just went from a purring whir, to that sudden winding-down-to-its-death sound that precedes, well, death.  It was flat lined, just like that.

Hugo had been working on a case that had him at the office from early morning until late at night, and sometimes on weekends, as well.  There was no time to look at the mower, and no time to even think about it.  So as the neighbor's gardener was doing his thing across the street, I nabbed him.  He's a super nice guy.  Does a great job, loves his craft, and...is quite expensive, so it seems.  No matter.  We'll figure something out.  It was a yard-emergency.  We needed help.

Help!  So, now I found that I had gone and committed to something big.  And Crap!  Yes, Alfredo is Mexican.  I sheepishly called my stressed-out husband and had him listen to the sound of the mowers.  At the time, I'd have to say, it was a real relief...Hugo had been stressing about what to do, and I saved the day.

Energized by my heroism, I was determined that by the time he got home, I'd had a perfect plan.  And there it was.  We'd just adjust the budget a little.  Rather than send out his clothes for dry cleaning, I'd do them!  Well, not his coats or dry-clean-only stuff, but most of what he sent out was machine washable.  I was taught how to wash and iron by my mother and grandmother before her.  My grandma ironed underwear.  So, I'm admittedly not that committed, but I could knock out the shirts.

And ironing for hours on end would give me hours of guilt-free TV!  (I calculated 8 hours of ironing when I first emptied the dry cleaning bag.)

These are the ones I haven't ironed yet.

These are the ones I've gotten done.

Yes, I know.  There are more on the to-do pile than there are in the closet.  It seemed like such a good plan to get them all caught-up over vacation...no work shirts worn, so if I would do a few a day, I'd get them all done by the time he went back to work this week.  I ironed one day, I think.

Hey, but on a good note, the gardener came just at the right time.  We have had a big problem with our sprinklers, and he is a pro.  And since he is a Mexican working on Hugo's lawn (mine too, I know...just kidding), Hugo can communicate with him perfectly.  I do OK...but Hugo rocks the Spanish where I just pebble it.  Mr. Monroe was great in high school Spanish, but I don't remember him covering pipes, or sprinkler heads, or valves.

Today is a great day to iron.  Raging Waters yesterday, Raging Waters tomorrow, and today Danielle is taking Lee to see Transformers.  It'll just be the ironing board and me, and...perfect!  The day-long marathon of Ghost Hunters International!  Guilt-free!!  Now, I have to get off the computer, and over to the ironing board.

Lunch first.