Naming the Mess

Our backyard was a big reason we bought our house. 

It was so pretty. 

It was lush, which is rare in Utah. It had a little stream, that ran into a little pond, filled with little fish. A large oak shaded the lovely deck, and held up one end of a hammock. There was a garden, and fruit trees, and vine covered fences. It was so perfect I wouldn't have been surprised to see a large eyed baby deer frolicking in the backyard with his woodland friends. 

Then it all went to shit. 

The oak tree dropped two huge limbs, and had to be taken out due to a bore larger than my hips in the middle of it. Yes, it was that big. With the tree went the hammock, and any shade we had on our deck. Sitting outside became almost as comfortable as sitting in the oven. 

It turned out our little pond, and little stream are fed by little springs, which turned our yard into a big swamp once the water table shifted. After year two the back third of our yard was completely unusable, except for the vines, which sucked it up like blood and grew to Audrey 2 proportions. I suggested we bow them all up, but Ryan went out and tore them out before they could conquer the earth. 

By year three, I never looked outside. I mean, unless I wanted to get really, really depressed. 

Last year, though, we decided enough was enough. I, again,  suggested dynamite, but Ryan went with a series of drains that push the water into cisterns and then the storm drain. We took out the pond completely (after all we have a toddler) and now are looking at the final steps of landscaping. Again, I suggested dynamite, but by now that' just become habit. Ryan is thinking sod and a rock garden. 

Of course, none of this has, or will, come cheap. And that has depressed me even more. So far we have already spent several thousand dollars, and that's just to get it to this: 

You're probably depressed now too. 

Don't worry, though, I have something to cheer you up: I have figured out how to pay for it. 

Two words: naming rights. 

Yep, that's right. I figure there are lots of rich people who like to see their names on things, and at just ten thousand dollars this will be a bargain. I will even pay for the little plaque, and promise to shine it every day. Ryan assures me the whole "naming rights" thing doesn't work like this, but he got his way on the dynamite/reasonable solution argument, so I figure it's my turn. 

Hey, if we manage to get a new tree I will throw in the naming rights for that too. What a bargain. 

Maybe naming rights will even pay the house off. I bet Meg wouldn't mind changing her name to "Citibank Comcast." It's kind of catchy. 

I knew there was a happy ending in there somewhere...