Later this month, we will cross over the second anniversary
of moving into our new house. We love
our new home. We have loved it since
day one. It is located on a local golf course and offers beautiful views of
lush green grass and trees.
The beautiful view was one of the main reasons we build our
the house where we did.
But one piece of frustration has been with us since day
one. A the bottom of our view is a pile
of what used to be a barbed-wire fence—mixed in with the barbed wire, is some
white piping. From our dining room
window, it looks like trash.
The main reason it looks like trash is because it is
trash.
We complained to the contractor who built our house. They told us it was part of the golf course
the property and we should contact them.
We contacted the golf course several times. They never got back to us. I did once see a young groundskeeper who was
picking up trash go over to the pile and grab some of the wire. He quickly pulled his hand back. I can only assume he found out it was barbed. Being poked by the pile promptly brought him
to the same position the rest of the golf course staff seemed to have about the
situation.
Let’s just leave the pile of trash alone.
We have mentioned it to fellow neighbors. They always agreed it looked like trash, and
they joined us in complaining to the golf course. But they also didn’t hear back from the golf
course.
Over time rock got placed on top of the fencing materials,
and mud washed over it, making the barbered wire get buried in the dirt. But the eyesore remained.
It was clear nobody had any plans to get rid of this
trash. The longer it sat, the more it
became permanent.
My wife, Sue, and I thought it was a problem. We thought somebody should do something about
it.
Our thinking has been it isn’t our problem. It is somebody else’s problem. It’s not on
our land and we didn’t put it there!
But since it only really bugged the two of us and nobody
else was taking action, it was our problem.
So this weekend, I put on my leather gloves and a pair of
work shoes and set out to see what it would take to move this pile of trash up
the hill 50 yards to the construction dumpster on the street. (The contractor who built our house is
building another house nearby).
I moved some rocks and pulled. It moved the pile slightly.
I moved some more rocks and pulled some more. I got more movement.
I repeated the process several more times, and in what
seemed like no time, I had the pile moved next to the dumpster. The victory was ours. The trash is gone. (The next day the
contractor but the trash into the dumpster).
All the time we spent trying to get the “right” people to do
the “right” thing and clean up their mess was a waste of time. We spent hours of our lives complaining to
people trying to get the issue cleared up.
When I stopped complaining and went into action mode, it took about ½
hour.
Have I become a world-class enabler? Will the golf course start to think I will do
their work for them consistently? No,
and doubtful.
I’m happier, and my view has improved. I feel kind of foolish. Why did I let an issue I could solve myself
bother me so much?
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