So Ive been living in the DC area for almost six and a half years now, and I cant help but think that there are still many things I havent done to take advantage of living in a big metropolitan area. As I rode by the George Washington Masonic Temple near King Street one morning recently on the Metro, this thought struck me, and not for the first time. It would probably take an hour or two to tour the Temple, Id definitely learn something, and then I wouldnt have to wonder whats behind the walls anymore or whether it could be in the next National Treasure movie.

I guess I have fallen into the trap of a Resident: I see this stuff every day, so the novelty of living among monuments has faded, and my weekends fill up so quick that I just dont make the time anymore.

I dont really have any specific place in mind that Im dying to go see when I think this (other than the Masonic Temple, obviously). I just keep meaning to get to know DC better in general. Its not that the city holds such sway over me that I ever wanted to live in it. Dont get me wrong, back in my bachelor days I think I couldve adjusted to it, but now Im quite content in Northern Virginia. Its not that I want to be in the District all the time, partying the night away or anything, either. I just want to see more of what DC has to offer. In short, Im content with being a suburbanite, but I cant help feeling a bit like I emshould/em get out and do more.

I suppose if I really think about it, all this goes back to one root feeling: Im blessed and fortunate to have made it this far, and I dont want to ever feel like Im taking it for granted. Growing up, a trip to DC was a once-in-high-school event, if you were lucky and the timing and money worked out right. Now I live just ten miles away, and at different times during my career Ive worked there, within sight of the Capitol.

Luckily, this is a problem thats easily fixed. Gina and I already got a little kickstart a couple of weekends ago since she scored some Cirque du Soleil tickets. All I have to do is keep up with some event calendars and actually schedule some things, for crying out loud! Some emcheap/em things, that is. This owning a house business is expensive.

Just picture Rod Roddy saying this post’s title, and that will set the tone for you. After a two-day rain delay, all of the front yard and house work is finally completed! The checklist is done! The HOA should be off our backs now, unless they find something else! Happy Holidays! America #1!

Below is a before-and-after view. Please keep in mind that, since we couldn’t do this in the spring, half the plants that we had planted won’t look like much for a few months, and we’ll probably add some more annuals then too. I’m also glad that we were able to reuse the hydrangeas and azalea after some shifting around. Can you spot all the differences between the two panels?

I think that even without new plants, the pruned tree, rock wall, sod, and mulch would instantly make the whole thing look cleaner. It would have been nice to put a little more “sweat equity” into this, as well, but I at least watched the workmen most of the time, which counts for something, right? And please note the amazing cleanliness of the light pole glass in the close-up photo below – that’s the only part I had a hand in:

Anyway, it looks like people that care about their house live here now. High-five!

A few posts ago, I briefly mentioned how our homeowner’s association sent us a notice that we had to reseed and clean up our front yard. Well, that was actually the first in a list of things that includes fixing up a rake board, cleaning the glass on our lamppost, and power washing the front steps.

Admittedly, our little yard has been in need of sprucing up ever since we moved in. Except for a couple of plants and our nice cherry tree, everything else is overgrown with a mystery weed that we’ve since learned is a case of Chrysanthemums Gone Wild! (Or “Mugwort,” according to this site, which makes it sound like a Harry Potter character.) Even so, the yard has turned out to be the easy part, at least from an effort perspective. We could have done the bare minimum and just put some sod down, but we decided to go the whole hog and get the entire thing re-landscaped. We were going to do this anyway, but in the spring like most people. Instead, the ruthless HOA said 45 days ago that we need to get it done by the end of this week. Hiring a company to do the work does end up costing a healthy sum, but it also means that we get to join forces with Merrifield Garden Center and one of their designers that’s been on HGTV’s Curb Appeal, so our streak of famous contractors and realtors continues!

As for the rest of the list, I’ve gotten the chance to educate myself about even more obscure house parts names. I thought once I’d gotten words like “soffitt” and “fascia” down, I would be okay, but of course I was mistaken. A quick Google search revealed to me that practically every feature on a house has a special name. If it sticks out or curls around, it’s got a name. If it’s more or less a board on the side of a roof, it’s got a name. Anyway, one of our “rake boards” needs “sanding” and “painting” before it, I don’t know, turns the soffitts “against” each other and forces the “crowns” to attack the “dormers.” Once I finally identified the rogue piece of house, I assigned our handyman to take care of it. I don’t do roofs.

That brings us to today, when I realized that if the power washing was going to get done, I was going to have to do it myself. One trip to the Fairfax Home Depot later, I had a rented washer manhandled between my rented truck and our front steps. Thankfully I’d had experience with Dad’s power washer, so it only took one extra trip to a gas station instead of two to get the job done. After a couple of hours blasting years of dirt off of our steps, I was deaf, soaked, covered in flecks of dirt and dead leaves, and feeling pretty manly as I gazed over the charred landscape of my victory. It’s funny how power tools can do that. The whole ordeal lasted about three hours and totaled up to about $100, truck and all, so I call that a win.

In recent years, it’s felt like Halloween has gotten steamrolled a bit thanks to crazy busy times at work and a lack of inspired costume ideas. This year took a turn for the better. Unlike last year, Gina and I were able to attend the annual costume party with our college friends. We went the non-homemade costume route this time, but kicked it up a notch as a couple of Original Series-era Starfleet officers. The new party location in Crozet took a little more planning to get to, but it was still a great way to spend a Saturday since the Nor’easter mainly left us with rain instead of feet of snow. As with most Halloween parties, it just got weirder and weirder as the night went on. For example, ask KT about Borfus the monster-headed baby sometime. And as a bonus, that night we got to stay at a spooky Quality Inn where we felt like the only people around in a ghost town and were afraid to take a shower. Neat-o! Pictures from the party to follow, just keep an eye on my Flickr photostream and Gina’s Facebook.

As for tonight, we experienced one of those new homeowner perks that we hadn’t thought about before: trick-or-treaters! My whole life in Northern Virginia, I’ve either been in apartments or at Gina’s mom’s place for Halloween night, so until tonight I hadn’t had the pleasure of dishing out candy in my own home. I was a little worried that maybe we’d picked a dud neighborhood without adventurous kids, but as 9:00 approached we’d tallied about 40 trick-or-treaters in various shapes and sizes. We had some ninjas, a 4-year old fireman who said “I’m Nathan!” after I gave him candy, a 6-foot tall playing card, an Asian 13-year old who introduced himself as a member of the Russian mafia, a clown-like Christmas tree, a couple of Transformers, and some other assorted stuff. My strategy of giving out fistfuls of candy resulted in not having too much left over, to boot. My dentist would be proud!

So Happy Halloween, everyone! And here’s to the coming holidays feeling brand new again.

A little while ago, Gina decided to join the choir at the church we’ve both been going to for the last year and a half. I applauded her for doing it. Little did I suspect that she would convince me to also join. Despite my time with the Wesley Singers and its band, until now I’ve never been a part of the week-to-week singing in any church choir. The closest I came was in high school, when I accompanied the pianists at my little small-town church on bass, and even then I didn’t have enough confidence in my voice to sing.

Even so, despite my reservations at the time commitment and whether I’d be good enough (since this particular choir is quite good), I joined Gina at choir practice a few weeks ago. I figured there would be some kind of grace period for the new guy, but in a flurry of activity I was introduced to everyone, given sheet music and a cubbyhole, and told vaguely where to sit as we whipped out the 96-page Requiem Mass in C Minor as composed by Luigi Cherubini – in Latin, like all good Masses. This is what we’ll be devoting most of our attention to until we perform on All Saint’s Day.

I was totally put off by this piece at first. This style of music is definitely not my normal cup of tea. However, as it’s coming together I’m beginning to appreciate the music and melody behind it. I sort’ve see this piece as the musical equivalent of the Drop Zone ride at King’s Island. If I can learn and survive singing this, all the other roller coaster rides of offertories and anthems will be the proverbial pieces of cake. And maybe I’ll learn some Latin, to boot. Or at least how to pronounce words. Benedictus qui venit in nomine Domini!