It seemed reasonable and the more I thought about it, the more my motivation grew. I vowed to not only clean and organize, but to purge. It’s too big, too full of built-in cabinets that had been stuffed and ignored. I started 2017 with a bang and, by March, I had checked off more than a third of my list, including two really big/challenging spaces such as the dish pantry and the kitchen.
So I wrote down 45 items on my list, items I thought sounded manageable, such as “Kitchen desk,” and “Night stands” and “Buffet drawers” and “Coffee cart.” Things I could do in less than an hour so that I might feel energized to tackle another item on the list. (It took me multiple days spread over two weeks, but cleaning out every single drawer and cabinet in my kitchen — as well as scrubbing and streamlining every surface — was a true mood booster and personal triumph.) I was stoked. Long hours and challenging dynamics at work diffused my focus on my goal and sapped my energy.
In this post, I told you about another landowner on the downhill side of the Unfriendlys who had discovered our nasty neighbors had encroached on his property, creating a cloud on title and complicating his efforts to sell his lot. Mom and his brother Lloyd bought the two-acre parcel from the frustrated owner and undertook the legal action to force the Unfriendlys to move their fence and their fancy locked gate back to its rightful place — the county road. Facts mean nothing in this case — at least they mean nothing in this District Court.
Dear friends, It’s been 20 months since I last wrote an update about our mountain saga. In part because of the Great Clean Out of 2017, wherein I pretty much gave up writing in favor of a major home re-organization and purging project. The end result was that Junior Unfriendly was highly annoyed when he was forced to spend some $18,000 to move his fancy electric gate. He made me clench my jaw and seethe with anger every time he told a new lie. He was on the toilet grunting and straining and moaning. I think his karma is all bound up in his bowels.” I laughed out loud. We came home from Colorado prepared for another long wait, but the verdict came relatively quick. But because we lost, the Unfriendlys filed another claim for us to pay their attorney’s fees. Mom drove to Pueblo yet again for a hearing on that matter. The Unfriendlys claim to have spent nearly three times what we have on legal fees. In the last hearing you said you could produce no records because of Ukranian hackers. ” (I know it won’t surprise you to know we can document every dime we’ve spent on attorney’s fees, both through billings and bank records.) So, yeah, we could end up owing tens of thousands of dollars in legal fees for the Unfriendlys that no one can document or prove were owed, charged or paid.
You might have thought — if you read my last post — the case had been resolved in our favor. A lot’s been happening, none of which I’ve been interested in writing about. The process meant we spent yet more money on yet more (and different) attorneys — and like everything legal, it took forever — BUT we prevailed. I refused to speak to him, even when he tried to exchange insincere pleasantries with me. And I had sat through a week’s trial knowing O’Malley was lining up all the chess pieces for a strong appeal and that — we prayed — the Appellate Court would once again see through the charade and would enforce case law. Because it is emblematic of everything I despise about this case. Just so you know, our attorney, O’Malley said in court, “I just want to get this straight.
Much of the contents were boxes we were too exhausted to unpack when we moved into this home, topped off with six years of stuff we should have purged but chose instead to throw in the basement.
Fortunately, my daughter offered to come home for Labor Day weekend and help me. Mom, who did all the heavy lifting and hauling off while Kate and I sorted, purged, organized and cleaned, we finished the basement in a single (albeit long) day.
I honestly can’t remember what happened in that span of time and why it took so long. It took four days for us to say our piece and the Unfriendlys to say theirs. (You can read this post if you want a recap on the bumbling, lying, snake-of-a-Dandy I’ve dubbed Dick.) The judge seemed frustrated we were back in her courtroom. Oh, and I lost a court case.” Maybe that explains why I was obsessed with my house last year. I’ve always thought of myself as the Queen of Self Help. It seems to me the persistence to keep digging in, again and again, is the key to any kind of success.