If I could change any one thing about myself - if I could keep any one thing from being passed on to my children, it wouldn’t be my fat thighs or my brown hair or my height (I’m 5′2″ on a good day). I wouldn’t change my stubborness or my proclivity for bad teen dramas or my love of green beans from the can. But I just recently realized that I really really wish I cared less, much less, about what other people think of me. I worry way way way too much about impressing people. I am much too concerned about whether people think my house is clean or that I look fatter than the last time they saw me or if they think my shoes cost a lot or my purse is cute or I have good taste in couches or baby clothes. Very Fastidious Co Worker is coming over tonight and my house is NOT clean and I have neither the time nor the energy to scrape bananas and waffles off the kitchen floor and it is kiling me. The bug person just arrived and I answered the door so NOT wearing a bra and that wasn’t the greatest impression ever made either. But do any of these things really make a difference in the long run? I’ll never see either of these two people ever again. Who cares what they think of me and my dirty house and my lady bazzers?
Sadly, I care. Way way way way too much.
So you will excuse the obvious disconnect occuring here today when I tell you that because I am psychotic, it stresses me out to no end when I ask for opinions about things on this here blog and I don’t get the answer I want to hear. I assume that I simply haven’t explained it properly and you must not be understanding things because otherwise, duh, you’d agree with me.
So let me be perfectly clear. I live in a rented house. I am moving out at the end of the month. We have always paid our rent on time. Did I mention we are RENTERS? I am not breaking my lease. I am not sneaking out without giving notice. I am not welching on rent or stealing light fixtures or subletting. I am not selling anything to anyone. I RENT MY HOUSE.
When we moved in here, there were three empty brick planters in the backyard. I cleaned them up, I added dirt, I broke up the dirt that was there already, I bought some dahlias with my own money and planted them myself. They were not here when I got here, no one else paid for them. I watered them and weeded them and fed them and cut them back for the winter. When I leave my RENTED house, I want to take MY flowers, that were not here before, that I PAID FOR WITH MY OWN MONEY, with me. I am not going to leave gaping holes in the yard, I am not going to steal trees or dirt or planters or anything that was here when I moved in. I’m thinking this isn’t a big deal, and that maybe if you told me before that you thought this was illegal that you might have been confused?
Feel free to leave me a comment and agree with me on this, because if you don’t I’m just going to steal take the flowers with me anyway, but I’ll be consumed with paralyzing doubt while I do it.
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If it makes you feel any better, what you just explained is exactly how I interpreted it the first time around.
We rent, too. And I also planted my very own flowers paid for with my very own money. Our landlord told us that this is OUR home and we were welcome to do what we wanted with it (within reason, obviously) and that I was welcome to take my flowers with me when I leave. So I have his blessing to take my flowers. You have my blessing to take yours. I don’t see any reason why not. If it was a big 10 foot tall tree or something, that would be another story. But if you take the flowers, you won’t be leaving things any differently than how you found it.
And that’s all I have to say about that.
Did someone say you couldn’t take the flowers? Like your landlord? Because I don’t see any reason why you shouldn’t have every right to take them.
Dude. TAKE THE FLOWERS. I am the most easily guilt tripped person in the world and even I would take the flowers.
I was wondering why people were giving you shiz in the comments about taking the plants in the first place. I was all “Dudes, she rents. What gives? She should take the plants.” But I think I forgot to say that.
I’m the same way. If I get replies that don’t do what I want them to, I have to bite my tongue. So hard it bleeds.
I can’t see how anyone could disagree on this. It isn’t even like I’m saying, “Go ahead, take the flowers, no one will care”—I’m saying, “Um, of COURSE you’d take the flowers, because they are YOURS.” I mean, this is like are you going to take your couch with you when you move? Of course! Because it belongs to you! Are you taking your DISHES or do they somehow belong to the rented house now? No, of course they are your dishes.
Take the flowers. I would and I’d never even think twice about it.
dude, take the planters too! every house has some things left behind by previous owners/tenants and some things taken by them.
Elizabeth, by the powers invested in me by the free-thinking, uprightly moral and equitably good natured world , I hereby declare that you are free to take YOUR flowers and any associated greenery from the landlord’s brick planters and move them when you leave your rental house. You may do so bra-less if you wish. Oh, what the heck, you may do so topless if you wish. Just take the flowers. Thank you.
p.s. Here’s what people will think: Oh, that Elizabeth, she’s so normal.
The dahlias? The are so very yours - take them and be proud
My wife is obviously crazy.
Those are totally your flowers. Pack ‘em up. They’ll never miss ‘em, and besides, you bought them. It’s like if you bought a lamp or curtains or something for a rented house; you’d totally take those and not think twice about it. Quit feeling guilty!
When I read about the dahlia’s it stuck with me. Later in the day, and the next day I had random thoughts: “I’ll bet a bunch of people are going to tell her she can’t take them” “I really hope she does take them if they’re of sentimental value, but I’ll bet that they will be a bit fussy about being transplanted” and so on and so forth.
I’m not advocating anyone ripping up the sod in the lawn or taking a whole magnolia tree or anything, but for me and lots of other women I know the care we put into our yards is personal. Its sentimental. It’s the planting of the potted hyacinth bulbs he brought you for your first easter together. It’s the teeny tiny clipping of the hydrangea tree that you hope and pray will grow as big and hardy as your dad was when he grafted it and carefully got it to take hold in a pot before he suddenly passed away.
It’s the beautiful, unusual variety of daffodils that make you gloriously happy each spring and you’ve never seen anything like them anywhere else…
Those dahlias aren’t part of your house, they’re part of you. Take them. Please!
Take the plants, they are yours! sorry if I didn’t say that before.
Oh, and I care way to much what people think about me too. It is by far my worse trait.
I thought you were pretty clear the first time around…take YOUR flowers that you have not only paid for, but labored over.