august2002

diary of a mad handyma'am



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August 6, 2002

Rodent Patrol

Mice build their beds and mice piss the bed. We saw the proof.

A conglomeration of mouse piss amongst mouse-made beds was discovered in the Outback. Yuck.

One mouse bed was fashioned in the draped part of a sheet used to provide the privacy door in the in-house outhouse. There is was. Hanging at the top of the doorway like a pissy hammock. And, although the smell was quite ripe.... once you got past that I’d bet your little mouse ass was quite comfortable.

The second pissy mouse bed was discovered behind an old burlap bag that I had stapled on the ceiling. I really liked that bag, too. Interesting bean graphics. But, now it’s off to the trash, pissed on and pissed off.

Two fat gray mice emerged from behind the burlap as the staples were ripped away. Pink noses and whiskers twitching, one nervously scooted away while the other clung to the burlap until I pulled the whole thing down. Meanwhile, M let out some surprisingly falsetto girly shrieks behind me as I did the dirty work.

Ewwwww.


Timber!

The guy from the tree service is supposed to be coming out tonight. After 10 days and no response, I decide to breath some life into this by calling them again.

Duh. They "forgot."

I wonder if they would be understanding if we forget to pay them? LOL


Pre-Traumatic Stress Disorder

I’ve resigned myself to the fact that we are going to cut the arbor down. But, I can’t help but to feel a little tiny bit of queasiness when I walk past it. Or, when I look at it. I keep telling myself that it’s OK.... that it has to be, but... I can help but feel pangs of guilt toward all of the vines I trained to encompass the arbor.

It’s like.... here ya go. Here’s a great place for you... and, over the years, they grew like crazy. They clung and held the arbor as if it were a coveted object. The birds that have found shelter there will be disoriented. The baby birds, who called the protective underside home, will lose their roots. And I, will carry this guilt with me.

I plan to carefully cut many of the vines to save for a future project. The plan is to build some functional relics. A chair? Chairs? A Settee? Table? Who knows.... but, something. Something I can touch to remind me that all is not gone. That something good did indeed come out of it.

Mom keeps asking me when we are going to cut all of this down. I think she wants me to do it now. I don’t know why, but... for me it would be easier to do it when it isn’t in all of its leafy glory. Plus there’s that sticking point of grave digging up ol’ Crash.

If we aren’t building now - and we aren’t - why be in such a hurry?

My New Family

Not to be confused with "my old family".... there never was one. My new family is my recently transplanted girlfriend, M... and the two 7 year old boys, Kyle and Michael.

The kids seem to be adjusting very well to their new life. M and I are doing fine playing house while each continuing to make minor adjustments.

M has ventured out on her own now a couple of times. Each time she explores a little more. The road systems here are different. Many of the roads don’t run in an east/west and north/south pattern. Why? Because, in the city, they follow the contour of the rivers. That throws ‘em off a bit. And, that reality has thrown a wrench into M’s internal mapping feature. Coming soon: GPS???

 

It’s the Law

M and I had an appointment with a lawyer yesterday. We went to talk about wills, general power of attorney, medical power of attorney, etc. We want to protect our newly integrated family. The kids mainly.

Ended up leaving there with a hell of a lot to think about. Looks like we are going to be drawing up what is tantamount to a pre-nup.

So, here we are. Living together for now... what? About a month! And we are making ourselves think about breaking up.

There's something strange about that, wouldn't you say? ;^)

Actually.... too bad I couldn't have recorded and transcribed the commentary. Some of it was quite funny.

We have great attitudes. Here we are thinking about breaking up and laughing.

OK.... OK.... so we'll have a 3 month "cooling off" period prior to any impending action of divorce. To begin that time, we select arbitrators to settle the score before we cut on that dotted line. We seek counseling. No.... wait. Let's make it impossible to break up. What about a 6 month cooling period? A year?

Hey! What if you fall in love with my ex? What if we seek counseling and you have an affair with the counselor? What about Polygamy? What if one of us bumps her head hard and becomes a stranger? What if we slip on the soap?

What if wild horses run us over? What if the postman did ring twice? What if one of us wigs out and gets a nasty heroin habit and loses her teeth? What if we became trapped in a world where two syllable words were illegal to say? What if one of us craved the scent of Downey Fabric Softener until it came between us?

What if we wanted to break up? What if we couldn't take it anymore. What if....?

Kaput. Goodbye. Sayonara. Have a great life. Yep. Have a great life..... because I surely will. What's left of it.

But..... I want clear rights to visitation with the children.

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Oh yeah. And alimony. Lots of alimony.

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Tons of alimony.

;^)

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... she'd be wise to start saving now...

 


August 23, 2002

There isn't enough time in the day, the week.... or, the month. Never is. Never will be. So be it.

And, although I KNOW this to be true.... for whatever the reason, I cannot fully assimilate it.

YES.... I have been thoroughly bugged by my current inability to find time in which to write. I have thought about writing - at least - every other day. Have I done it? Obviously not. The closest I've come is in thinking about it.

Why? I dunno really. I guess I am still trying to find my new groove here. Haven't found it yet.

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:: < shaddup David.... I can whine if I want to! LOL > ::

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My computer system has been moved and, it doesn't seem conducive to my writing. Not at this point anyway. Hopefully that will change. Or, I'll have to start mapping out time to myself when I can write.

Hmmmmmmmpppphhhhhhhhhhffffffffff.

I like to write at night.... sometimes when I can't sleep I write. Wellllll.... I can't do that now. Why? Because it keeps M awake.

Arrrrrrrrrrrgggggggggggghhhhhhhh.

I seriously regret moving the computer because of it. Since kicking myself has no real value..... I am trying to figure something out as a workaround so that I can have time to write. What?I dunno.

Can't see buying a laptop at this point. Can't see kicking M out of the bed and escorting her to the couch. Hmmmmm..... I can see no actual solution there.

Sooooooo..... I'll have my little fit. I'll piss and moan about it. I'll throw in a few silent screams at the top of my lungs. Then, I'll get over it and figure something out. No doubt things will eventually fall into place. Somehow. Some way.

You see, there is further evidence once again of my fatal optimism.

< :: formal end of rant :: >


:: What's been going on? ::

I blew the day off a few Friday's ago and took the family on a day trip. It won't be but a few more weeks and the kids will be in school and M will begin her new teaching job. So, we headed out on the road and drove deep into the woods. We had a nature walk, and.... it was off to the lake after that. It was a fantastic summer day.

Oh..... and we bought some winter clothes. M got her first winter coats. Yes. Two coats because well.... a woman HAS to have choices. Although I'm thinking that the choice she may be thinking of in her first winter, may have nothing to do with a coat at all. She may be thinking, "what in the hell am I doing here?! I can't believe I live in snow country!" or, "I must have been nuts." Since she's never lived in winter, two coats seem about right. Two good coats mind you. Not two coats ‘cuz they aren't individually adequate. Of course.... I DO want her to live through it.

Can you tell I'm pre-worrying about winter? Yes. It's true. I am. And, for good reason. Primarily because I know winter and know what it's like. And, I know how much I hate it come February. At first it's not so bad.... but, well.... you know. Or, you might know if you live or have lived through a tough winter. Hmmmm.... let's just say I hope it isn't the winter of her discontent. Please send warm karma now. I'm stocking up.

What's up at the compound? Plenty.


:: spa docking station ::

We built the spa dock. I'm calling it a dock instead of a deck because there won't be much room to walk on it - it's only where the spa sits. We've yet to build the steps, but.... have a temp step near the fire pit we can use in the meantime. One that was built to hang the drywall on the ceilings in the old main part of the house. Built so you could balance a drywall sheet on the top of your head. Another recycled fixture.

After digging at least 8 piers and filling them with cement for the foundation, the dock structure has come together. It involved a lot of back breaking work with the post hole digger and dry cement dust clouds. That was the toughest part. Putting the boards on top was a piece of cake.

The electrician hasn't been out yet. But, I did talk to him on the phone a few days ago and he's set to come out on Monday.

The spa was delivered today. Of course, we'd all like to be using it..... but, won't be able to until Monday evening - providing everything goes as I'm envisioning. And, that could be considered fatally optimistic as well.

But.... I swear that I walked by the spa and smelled the bromine and heard the water bubbling.

Yep. I must want this real bad. I'm graduated to having smellucinations.


:: the kids ::

They start school this coming Monday. They seem pretty damn geeked up about it.

Tonight we went out to dinner and during the drive, we asked them some questions.

Q: ...what are taxes? A: ...according to Kyle, taxes are money you have to pay the King.

Q: ...how much do you think a house costs? A: Michael said: 1,000 dollars and, Kyle said, 1,040 dollars.

Q: ...how much do you think the van cost? A: ....4,000 dollars.

Q: ...the van cost more than the house? A: .... yes. It cost more because it has all of these electronic things and air conditioning, too.

Kyle says he wants to work in a grocery store. Michael says he doesn't want to work at all. In fact, Michael thinks he's gonna live with us forever.

HA!

I told him how baby birds get kicked out of their nests so they can fly.

Somehow, I doubt he had any true appreciation for that story.

________________________________________________________

sidenote:
- hopefully.... I will write more next month -

 
 



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