Planeturine.com

You know life is not all you hoped it might be when you find yourself spending time at www.planeturine.com. Pray let me tell you a story of staggering to triumph through, over and around adversity.

Once upon a time a girl named Bette thought it good to move from Tucson to Phoenix. Bette, you ...You know life is not all you hoped it might be when you find yourself spending time at www.planeturine.com. Pray let me tell you a story of staggering to triumph through, over and around adversity.

Once upon a time a girl named Bette thought it good to move from Tucson to Phoenix. Bette, you see, is a person of energy and determination, which, to her eyes, made Phoenix a more amenable spot in which to dwell. Tucson, as you may know or perhaps heard, is the land of the laid-back. Phoenix, on the other hand, is a city of activity and energy, with goers going many places and doers doing many things.

And so, with great hope and enthusiasm–not to mention excitement about being around people who did not think her strange as she attacked life at her preferred pace–Bette forged ahead (forging ahead being her wont) with this plan for a better tomorrow.

Alas, as you may have already surmised from the title of this brief article, it cannot be said that all went well. For you see, in the purchasing of her new abode, Bette put her fate into the hands of a realtor whose 15 years of buying and selling real estate seemingly had taught her nothing. Especially the part about paying attention to contracts.

Bette inexplicably lost the first house she contracted to buy. And watched as a second attempt also went astray. And the day arrived that our girl Bette had to find and take possession of a house in only eleven days because the buyers of her Tucson house would not share. They were moving in and insisted she move out so they could have the house all to themselves.

And, so, Bette bought what could be described, if one were kind, as a handyman’s special. Now, Bette’s Tucson house had also been a handyman’s special, and she had hoped this time to move as a lady. But it was not to be. Sadly, Bette would have to delay her Queen of the May role for yet another while.

Visions of a life of ease and bonbons were replaced by nightmares of building yet more sweat equity. Had the fates not heard that ladies are not to sweat, but only to glow? Would her hands ever be able to forsake the paint brush for the demitasse?

But even the nightmares paled beside dragons of reality. Unfortunate the reality that paint and sweat were not the half of what faced our girl reared its odiferous head..

For you see, large beasts of the canine variety had dwelt in the house. Beasts who understood all carpeting to be part of their bathroom facilities. Consequently, upon entering the house, one’s eyes burned and brought forth tears due to the stench of the beasts. And, forsooth, even after the offending carpeting had been banished from the house, the malodorous fragrance lingered with great intensity.

Word went across the land seeking help, a remedy to this most undesirable of predicaments. But our girl’s plaintive plea was not met with wise counsel, but with disbelief and, at times, even uproarious laughter. Finally, in great desperation, Bette went drearily to her computer to search on “removing pet urine odors.” And so it was she ended up at planeturine.com, and thence to their phone line, where she gratefully received the kindness and help for which she sought. Yea verily, even encouragement.

Twas a simple matter of alternating the sloshing of bleach with coatings of KILZ, whilst attempting not to gas yourself in the process. Repeat, repeat and repeat as necessary.

So let the word go forth! Once again our girl has conquered the obstacle before her. Where stench had before prevailed there is now only sweet-smelling, breathable air.

Furthermore, with eyes no longer streaming tears due to the foul remnant of the beasts, one can see a gracious floor plan, mirrored doors (which needed cleaning to be sure, but–work with me here–happy endings take some time and effort) and so on.

Perhaps best of all, one can sit on the patio and enjoy the lake. A lake inhabited by ducks, coots, a pair of geese (dubbed by our girl Bette to be Maude and Elmo), a lone, white, non-honking goose (named, naturally, Harpo), the occasional flock of egrets and, from time to time, migrating Canadian geese.

Peace reigns. Joy abounds. The paint brush has returned to its rest.

And Bette has decided that as the years slide by in their merciless pace, she will look forward to living happily ever after as a dotty old lady who speaks with ducks.

Or maybe give that moving-as-a-lady concept another try.