High-maintenance

(adjective) Requiring frequent care, repair, or attention; not self-sufficient or self-sustaining; needy. Example: In spite of a predominance of hardy perennials, my high-maintenance garden is in constant need of weeding and watering.

Was it Shakespeare who said (Richard II), "What is true of the garden is equally true of the gardener"? If he didn't, he should have, slacker. Take a look at my back yard, which I consider my favorite room in the house, and you will know my character. On second thought, don't, it's too embarrassing. I spend all weekend out there, by choice, and I really enjoy working in the yard, but to look at it you'd never know anybody ever pulled a damn weed. The place is high-maintenance.

And so am I, I admit it. I have very specific needs - and lots of them. If they're not met, I'm gonna have problems. We're out of orange juice? Fizz water? Cream for the coffee? Hrrrumph. Can I get a clean towel around here? I know it's hot, but I can't sleep with the fan blowing directly on me. It never ends.

I need a light morning workout to get myself up and running, a moderate afternoon stretch to loosen the joints and pump blood to muscles that have been sitting, and an extended evening workout to thoroughly flush the system. Otherwise, I'm just not myself. I need to walk the dog every night; sorry, Dali, it has nothing to do with YOUR needs, it's really MY walk.

In the evening, I require a certain amount of quiet time, by myself if possible, to read or write undisturbed or just to sit and think, preferably in the garden or in sight of trees or other growing plants. Is that too much to ask? Some music during dinner is pleasant, and I really like to read while I'm eating, too, fiction if possible, but nothing too dense. Not the newspaper, not a political magazine, and not a philosophical or spiritual self-help book, gimme a break.

I don't see these stipulations as unreasonable, I mean, if you know what works, why not try to put the pieces together? Nor are these demands particularly admirable. I wish my routine wasn't so rigid, but after a while a person develops certain habits, and I figure it's better to know what they are. Right?

For example, it is extremely helpful for the high-maintenance entity (person, garden, whatever) to surround itself with relatively low-maintenance entities. There's only so much time in a day, after all, and if most of it is consumed with taking care of me, I'd better have a reliable, low-maintenance car, bicycle, computer, kitchen, bathroom, and stereo. Not to mention two grown offspring who are well on their way to fully fending for themselves in most circumstances they are likely to encounter. Besides, they are both stronger and smarter than I am, so there's not that much I CAN do for them.

Somehow I have skirted the key issues of spouse and house. We happen to have a high-maintenance house that is (like its occupants) older than most. It is architecturally interesting but has some wiring, plumbing, window, and flooring issues. Speaking only for myself, I am more inclined to to camp out in the ill-equipped house than to spend my precious time (and money!) satisfying its long-term needs.

I'm not going to discuss the spouse because I'm in enough trouble already. Let's just say there is a slight conflict of interest when high-maintenance people live in a high-maintenance house. But we chose it (and each other), didn't we. Even though sometimes Om Shanty looks more like Om Sty, we picked this house, rather than the modern, convenient, well-appointed house on Electric Avenue, with our eyes open. And the ongoing story of our adventure there hinges partly on how we play the ensuing balancing act. What gets weeded and watered today?