November 05, 2011
Saturday, Noonish, Sunny
I didn't even know under what stress I was living until it began to ease. Isn't it always that way? We get used to a baseline of discomfort and come to believe that's normal. Part of me still wonders when this good phase will end and revert back to the previously saved life. I remind myself that, no, there isn't anything wrong with being this happy; I deserve it, I've worked for it, and I have the right to enjoy it.
Mike worked a shift until 8:00 last night, and I knew he had a 9:00 appointment for online gaming with his best friend and some other people, so around 8:30 I put together a plate of leftovers for him to just heat up when he got home. Apparently, past partners of his have been unanimously against his gaming activity, and he was hesitant and almost apologetic about telling me that he'd slotted this time to do it. I think it's great, to be honest, and I certainly don't require him to pay attention to me every minute that we're home together. That new acceptance, plus the fact that I put a dinner plate together for him, just about sent him into fits of gratitude and romance. It was adorable, and at the same time I'm scratching my head wondering, Who in the world are these women who don't want him to have a hobby? I pulled out my yarn and my patterns and started knitting purple, double-knit mittens for myself. It's called functioning independently while together.
Meanwhile he just got word that he's been moved up to full time, which will ease his financial situation tremendously. It'll take me a few months to get out of the "winter fuel and supplies" debt I'm in right now, but now that I'm getting rent money from him there's a visible end to that.
Karl and I visited the local scrapyard this morning. He's a regular there; all the guys know him. I scored hugely on a pile of stuff that would have run me around $400 if I bought it all new, and I paid a mere $20. Found a 7' length of black pipe, unused, which will help me run the propane line as far as the parlor so I can put in another heater. (Now that I know how to cut and thread black pipe, and apply connectors with sealant and hang them from the basement beams, I can do it myself up to the point where a hole has to be drilled up into the room. I'd let Karl do that; these beams are 6"x6" chestnut and HARD to drill through.) There was also a decent roll of chicken wire, a nice roll of 1/2" hardware cloth, all clean, a gently used draft damper for the furnace (mine is finicky), and about 36' of tractor chain.
Our goal is to not use the furnace whatsoever this winter. :)
Yesterday was Rose's last day at her, now former, job. The overseeing organization was getting too much like Big Brother, and making primary care more like a cattle call. She's on a little sabbatical now, with some severance to pad her for a month or two, and already has a few very promising job offers and prospects out there. Of course after so many years in the medical field she has gobs of contacts, and what do you know, most of them are her patients. On this, her first day of freedom, she and Karl are going to New Hampshire to stay overnight with friends. On the way back tomorrow they'll stop at the New England Fiberfest on the grounds of the Big E in Springfield, MA. I was going to go, but now I feel like I want to be here instead. I'm cash poor for one thing. Plus I'll get to be here by myself and putter -- one of my favorite things.
Something a little odd happened yesterday morning. Mike wasn't up yet, so I was sitting up here in my aerie on the upper landing where I can see the long driveway. An unfamiliar black vehicle, like an suv or a minivan type, came up the drive. It had red letters on the side saying "P.R.0.0.F." I'd never heard of that and was frankly a little alarmed that some kind of company vehicle would show up unannounced. I was still in my pajamas, so I hurried and found some pants, put them on, and went downstairs. By the time I got outside, there was no sign of the vehicle. I was so surprised to not see it, I actually looked around the yard as though it might have parked out there. I wondered if I had imagined the whole thing. Was it a ghost car? But apparently they turned around, or backed down, right away.
So I went onine and googled the organization and it turns out they're a paranormal activity research organization based in a nearby town. Anybody can turn into a wrong driveway, and this house is invisible from the street, so I guess it was just a mistake -- but it was still a little creepy, because one of the sons of the former owner committed suicide in the driveway here and I wondered if they had heard about that and were just nosing around, in case the house was still empty. (Nevermind that I've lived here nearly 2-1/2 years.) I was glad both Mike's and my cars were here. I had to laugh that I'd actually thought about it being a ghost car, though, since it turned out to be a sort of Gh0st-Busters car.
I was slightly intrigued by their website except the more I read, the more illiterate it sounded (MAN, some people need an editor), and that destroyed any potential credibility for me.
WHY DON'T PEOPLE LEARN TO SPEAK AND WRITE ENGLISH CORRECTLY?????
Rant over. For now.
Well, I have to see if my chainsaw is ready at the hardware store, and pick it up. I'm having a new blade made from bulk chain, as the one that comes with this saw takes FOREVER to cut anything. It's just embarrassing. I've sharpened it as much as it'll take, so it's time for something that works.
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