Third Time's The... Charm?

Well.... f**k. 

Catch-up

Herself speaks.

Let's play catch-up, shall we?  

The house refurbishing continues apace. Today I boxed up the last of the rooms that needs boxing -- that was quite the accomplishment.  This one was the study, and so it was quite the archeological dig:  old school pictures of the Offspring, tax forms, Important Papers, ancient defunct laptops, obsolete mobile phones, CD-ROMs of computer games from over a decade ago. I took down my diplomas, and carefully peeled off the pencil drawings made by the Offspring that I'd taped there, along with three photos: Beloved Husband holding an infant Offspring the Third; my Lovely Daddy and I during my college graduation weekend; a rare willingly-taken (toleratingly-taken) photo of Cherished Friend from a camping trip a thousand years ago.  I cleaned off all of my favorite schoolbooks from the shelf -- my Latin and Greek books from high school; organic chemistry; plant biology -- and put them in a box with the classics: The Phantom Tollbooth (Norton Juster), I Am A Bunny (Ole Risom), Anam Cara (John O'Donohue), The Prophet (Kahlil Gibran), When The Tripods Came (John Christopher), and other favorites. I added the books on lichens and mosses, and medicinal plants. A wealth of knowledge, in a single box. 

I finally threw out my review materials for The Task, though. 

I also cleaned out my closet upstairs. I finally gathered all my formal dresses that I will never wear again and donated them.  They were all beautiful in their individual ways -- velvets, sparkles, fringe or shimmer. They felt so lovely under my fingertips as I packed them up. I felt pretty when I wore them (a hundred years ago, now), and I was sad to see them go.  I hope they will each find a good home elsewhere. 

I moved the bunnies to their new room.  It's out of the regular flow of traffic of the household, but is quiet.  It's smaller, but I will get them a little rug so they can hop out and about in the rest of the house more after the refurbishment is done. 

I was concerned that they would find the move upsetting.  They did seem a bit cranky at first.  But they are adjusting. 

We parted ways with our dining room furniture.  It was old, in need of repair and polishing and tender loving care, and someone was willing to give it a good home. I feel sad and a little guilty, but I know that someone will enjoy it more. I did save the hand-embroidered seat cushion covers, though. It was a rhythmic, soothing process, to remove the hundreds of little furniture tacks. I will restore the embroidery and save the works for posterity. 

I rewarded myself for all the hard work, by speaking with Cherished Friend via Zoom this evening.  It's lovely to see him, to talk about ordinary things. I am annoyed he does not live closer -- how delightful that would be. 

When we said goodbye, the tiny grief of knowing I cannot really be a part of his everyday life and he cannot be a part of mine, flared white-hot for a moment. 

There is no point in crying, though. It won't change anything. I'll just put on my brave face and keep going.  

And that, lovely readers, is all the catch-up for now.

Grow Wings

 Herself speaks.

The house refurbishing: the straw that threatens to break the camel's back. 

Home is no longer a respite or a safe place. It is a sensory nightmare: strangers there so often; noise and dust; nothing where it should be; hours and hours and hours and hours and hours spent sorting, boxing up, moving things from one place to another, Tetris-ing a lifetime's worth of possessions of All The Family into different rooms while other rooms are being worked upon; no bed, just a solitary cot surrounded by boxes and miscellany; Offspring the Third's cats out of sorts, not able to roam comfortably, meowing and poking me in the eye in the middle of the night. (The rabbits, mercifully unbothered.) 

Won't it look nice when it is done, people say. Yes, it will indeed. It will be lovely. Meanwhile, the sensory nightmare continues, the expense climbs, and the amount of time and mental space occupied by the project grows. Relentless positivity about how it will be when it is finished, is not soothing my frayed nerves right now. 

I know this shall pass. It shall pass like a kidney stone. 

And meanwhile, outside life continues: work is busy; volunteering is an enormity; other obligations continue apace. 

Some days -- many days -- it seems as though no one communicates with me, whether by text, email, or otherwise, unless they need something from me. The needs, larger and smaller, come from all corners.  'Tis my fault, really, for being the Reliable Person. People are relying on me. No one to blame but myself. 

No one asks how I'm doing. (Once upon a time, my lovely Daddy used to ask. But as we know, he is gone and at peace. You deserve peace, Daddy. Rest easy.) 

How am I? Overwhelmed. Tired. Annoyed. One foot in front of the other, one day at a time. One hour at a time. 

What do I need? I need peace. It's in short supply right now, though. 

I need space and time to relax, to put things away where they belong, to listen to silence, to be alone. I need the comfort of company of people who don't expect me to anticipate and take care of a multitude of things at any given moment, who would like to talk about things Not Political (because whoooooooooo boooooooy that's a whole 'nother level of stress and anger), next to whom I could sit in the same way that the small dogs used to sit next to me, once upon a time. 

I keep sighing. As Offspring the Third once quoted from somewhere, "If I sigh loudly enough, all my problems will disappear."  Perhaps that will be true. 

In the meanwhile, we try to find music to carry us through. Until we can grow wings.

(Mack Loren, cover of Radiohead's Let Down.)

I Would Like To Be A Dandelion

Bumble

It's a bit... SOON for Bumble to be making an appearance, no?

Wind Phone

I was with a group of people the other night, and the topic of Wind Phones came up. (It's a long story.) And it turned out that there was a Wind Phone very near to where we were. 

We went to look, and found it that night. Sure enough, there it was. Nice. 

I will go back someday, when I am alone, and place my call. 

Honor Upon You and Your House