We Need a Yard

by Alison Friedman in The House

So, we moved to our house in July.

From the front, you'd never know there was a wasteland jungle in the back.

From the front, you’d never know there was a wasteland jungle in the back.

We remodeled our kitchen right away and now I love cooking in our kitchen. (cooking = cleanup. I don’t like cleanup).

After we remodeled our kitchen, the house, which had been a moderately neglected short sale, encountered small changes: new paint, new furniture, new garage organization methods. We did the little things that we were allowed to do after the expense of the kitchen. We knew we wouldn’t be able to do all the projects the house required all at once, but as new homeowners know, we chiseled away the best we could to make our house into a home.

The one thing that remains heavily neglected is the backyard which we inherited in horrific condition. I’m not even being dramatic about it. It’s truly an eyesore and I am filled with anxiety and sadness every time I look out the windows.

Welcome to the Dirt Reserve.

We moved out of our condo for several reasons, but a main reason was that it did not have a yard for Princeton and Madelyn to enjoy. So when we found a house that met all of our needs, we were also glad that it came with a sizable yard for Princeton’s frolics and Madelyn’s explorations.

The size is great, yes, and the space has huge potential. But right now, well, it’s in crisis mode. A dilapidated patio cover hangs over a stained slab of concrete. The patio is surrounded by an unnecessary brick wall that completely bisects the yard and serves absolutely no purpose. The hill above the yard would be great for privacy, but instead vomits a jungle of overgrown shrubs and trees with whoknowswhat living inside. I am constantly nervous about Princeton going out there, for fear that there’s a creature that would find him delicious. And then there’s the … dirt. The space needs some fresh sod instead, because, well, 1800 square feet of dirt is just not attractive. Or neat.

The side yard where I dream of paving with concrete for smooth access and convenience.

The side yard where I dream of paving with concrete for smooth access and convenience.

Dead grass and weeds line the OUTER perimeter of the patio that's contained by a useless brick wall.

Dead grass and weeds line the OUTER perimeter of the patio that’s contained by a useless brick wall.

Knocking down this ugly and pointless brick wall is no easy feat and will cause a lot of additional work since we'll be left with raw, uneven patio.

Knocking down this ugly and pointless brick wall is no easy feat and will cause a lot of additional work since we’ll be left with raw, uneven patio.

The overhang that's been serving a 24/7 AYCE buffet to termites.

The overhang that’s been serving a 24/7 AYCE buffet to termites.

Hey, Friedmans: Jurassic Park called. They want their jungle back.  Overgrowth from 40 years of neglect. Thanks, previous homeowners.

Hey, Friedmans: Jurassic Park called. They want their jungle back. Overgrowth from 40 years of neglect. Thanks, previous homeowners.

We thought: hey! No problem! A little sod and, bam! We’ll be in good shape.

But really, that requires a repaired sprinkler system. And putting in sod is a step in the right direction, but what about the hill? And the patio cover? And that dumb wall?

Of course there are additional bonus ideas we have: fruit trees, planter boxes, extended patio. One idea spills into another and then we’re looking at plans that cost more than our kitchen we ever did. And that’s a kitchen.

I really hate that this yard causes me buyer’s remorse because a house is very bad purchase to regret. I have those pants I bought in 2007 with the tags still hanging on them because I promised myself I’d lose weight to eventually fit into them. Now that is reasonable buyer’s remorse. But over $600,000 is a big amount to regret, and all because of an overwhelming yard that requires a lot of green to make it green.

I’ve received a lot of bids from all sorts of workers: the contractor who did our kitchen, professional landscapers, our mow-and-blow gardner, dudes who’ve advertised in the local paper that they do clean up and haul away. Even at the lowest amount, it’s a big job and I recognize that this project costs significant money. But as Spring emerges and Madelyn’s birthday is on the horizon in the middle of Summer, I can’t help but wonder if we made the wrong choice in our home and how on earth we are ever going to get our yard to a usable state. I don’t want to make mistakes; I want to do it right the first time. So even starting with just lawn, I’m concerned we’ll run into problems later when we want to clear the hill of all that brush and add a sprinkler system up there, or level the area for new patio concrete later after the sod has taken.

Since I lack a lot of knowledge in anything having to do with the great outdoors, this backyard projects makes me nervous, overwhelmed, and sad. When we were house hunting — and maybe, I should replace “hunting” with “scouring,” since there were really slim pickins — all I could picture with each and every offer was a little girl and her friends dressed up in bathing suits on a hot summer’s day and a frisky pup who was exploring the great outdoors with his ears pinned back and his tail pointing him toward each adventure.

Princeton dreams of the yard he's been waiting for for seven years.

Princeton dreams of the yard he’s been waiting for for seven years.

At each bed time, I hope that the next day will bring us closer to somehow achieving our backyard haven.