Settling in…

It’s strange, but good.  After twenty years in a comfortable family home, i’m starting fresh.  Some observations on differences and adjustments…

– My dog can shit four times a day.  When i just put him out back in the fenced in yard at the old homestead, i didn’t stand there watching him do a poo.  Until i started walking him three or four times a day, i had no idea what a complete shitting machine he is… 

– The bathroom just isn’t right.  No shelves for all that “girl shrapnel” (make up, potions, lotions and gooey things).  Putting it in drawers isn’t the same.  Made a run today for some small shelves/baskets to help organize it.  Won’t be truly settled until i can put on my make up in a pre-caffeinated haze in the morning…

– My dog likes going for walks.  The first few times, Mr. Pickles was timid, nose down, and skittish.  After a few days?  Head up, tail up and a jaunty sproing to his step.  Sniffing here, peeing there, he’s having a great time when we go out.  Probably clocking in a mile or so every day, i look forward to the morning and evening walks as well.

– Speaking of evening walks… it is a bit difficult to find and bag dog poo while holding a flashlight – and a hyperactive dog.  i need one more hand.  Perhaps one of my camping headlamps?  Need to come up with something before winter sets in and it’s dark after work…

– Quiet.  i mean reallyquiet.  No street noise, generators, lawnmowers… or voices.  Just frogs, crickets, cicadas.  The Stepford Neighbors don’t seem to go out much after dusk…

–  i don’t miss the old house.  At first i had moments of squishy, nostalgic glurge… “my babies grew up there…” and “we had so much fun there…”.  After spending the better part of the past two weekends repairing odds and ends there?  Screw it.  i’m sick of replacing screens, washing windows, replacing outlet covers and mucking around in the old place.  ARRRRRGH!  i need it rented, and i want it behind me!

– i still have way too much shit.  Today, i took three more bags of clothing and shoes to Goodwill.  More to go.  i’m still in a “pare down” mindset… and i feels good.  But so much more to pitch.  Overwhelming…

– Empty… The Girl is settling into her new gig in Beirut.  The Boy is in an apartment on the main campus of his university (rather than living in a small apartment in a cornhole town attending a satellite campus).  Classes start in about a week.  He’ll have plenty of distractions, not to mention, his own washer/dryer.  i don’t expect to see much of either of them this year… as it should be…

– In six weeks:  i leave for a two week trip to South America.  Holy Crap.  i’ve got a lot to do between now and then… unpacking?  Still at the top of the list…

Movement

Packing people boxed up my posessions on Friday.  Today, it was Four Men and Two Trucks arriving at my door at 7:30 AM.  Six hours later, it was as though those Four Men and Two Trucks took a steaming box-shit at my new home. 

This has been quite a run.  The physical stuff started two weeks before the trash dump garage sale in my front yard, and has been relentless since.  i hurt in places i didn’t know i had.  The blood blister on my toe from two weeks ago is still the size of a small New England state… i’ve been carrying “important papers” with me in a rolling briefcase for two weeks, because i’ve not been in the same place much, and have been coordinating this whole thing from the car via cellphone.

But…

A friend came by tonight and helped me create my “bubble” in the bedroom.  And it’s amazing.  Mr. Pickles has been retrieved from the kennel.  As expected, he sniffed the place from end to end, and christened the downstairs carpet with his special brand of ‘dog logs’*.  There’s beer in the fridge (food still in boxes), a bootlegged internet connection** from clueless friendly neighbors. 

Only major glitch?  i’d taken care of utility transfer – electric, water, sewer – on the day of closing.  As i ran the nice whirlpool tub for a much needed hot soak tonight, i soon realized there was no hot water.  Ummm…  Gas hot water here.  My old place has electric.  Oops.  Forgot to make that call.  May be a few days before i can get that sorted… 

On the bright side?  i discovered the lack of hot water tonight, rather than in the morning, while standing naked and swearing as i get pelted with cold water at 6:00 am.  i can swing by my old house with a travel bag on my way to the office in the morning.  No problem…

My ex-husband essentially moved out in 2002.  We were divorced in 2006.  My daughter has been away at school for four years.  My youngest left for university last September.  For the first time, i feel like i’m truly starting over.  And i like it…

__________

* i’ve never owned a dog that doesn’t feel compelled by some signal from the Dog Planet to take a dump on the carpet of a new home within five minutes of entry.  Pickles was a little slow (as is often the case), waiting a full ten minutes. 

** Apologies to my blogmates… i’ll still be a bit of a ghost out there in your comment boxes for the rest of the week.  At some point i really need to locate my food, dishes and other essentials.  Got the underwear and booze down, but a gal needs a little more than that to get by…

Christening…

Committing to debt for 30 years.  Clutching my heart only when i saw the date “August 19th, 2038”.  Rational thought saying “i will have it paid off in less than half that time” but irrational chick brain saying “i’ll be 76-fucking-years old”*.

My friend, realtor, garage-sale maven and fellow trailer park refugee, KMD helpfully pointed at something shiny and distracted me.  Arriving at the new condo at 2:00 pm for the pre-closing inspection**, we walked the place making sure that all required repairs had been accomplished.  i was clever enough to bring the stepladder to inspect a disconnected sewer gas line above the master bedroom.  i wasn’t clever enough to remember to bring a flashlight, however…

One annoyance?  KMD noted that the seller had removed every single roll of toilet paper.  Just rude.  Upon further inspection, we found that the seller had left the washer and dryer.  Ummm… ok.  Fair trade.  They seem functional, perhaps same vintage as mine.  i can leave mine in place at the “rental”, and that’s one less thing to move and connect.  i can buy toilet paper.

After the pre-closing inspection, we scooted back to my house to allow me to change into something less smelly, and to load both cars to start the moving process.  Since the packing crew – arriving friday – charges for wardrobe boxes, but all other boxes/supplies are included, we decided to start transporting hanging goods.  And we started with the end of the closet where my “party gear” resides…

What was the first box i carried across the threshold?  Corsetry, of course!  Two carloads later, it was just a bit less empty.  i’ll be deciphering the light-switch structure for months.  Had a celebratory drink with KMD, and i returned to the current homestead, met a friend, and we hauled two more carloads – and a six pack – over to the new place.  KMD had left a rather spectacular – and wildly appropriate – gift for my new home.  What’s a Trailer without Tequila?  Woo hoo!

Still daylight, we made another run – and this time, i felt compelled to bring the guitar.  It won’t feel right without it.  Knocking back a couple brews on the back deck, overlooking the wooded creek, it seemed like a good christening.  Festive girl-wear, guitar, and beer.  Oh, and toilet paper.

Once the dog has acclimated?  It’ll be home… (sigh)

__________

* Ooops.  i think i said that part out loud.  Fortunately the seller – a pleasant woman across the table from me, and perhaps within tooth-spitting distance of 76 years old – did not hear the comment.

** Minor repairs, but necessary.  Found by the smokin’ hot, deliciously irish home inspector i’d hired, i had provided the seller the option of making the repairs, or cutting a check for $3500 at closing to cover the cost.  They chose to repair the items.  Damn.  Might have made a nice pool table fund…

Another year…

….and another venture.  In a classic sense, i’ve done remarkably well – especially considering i was voted “most likely to be found dead in a gutter” in the ol’ high school popularity poll.

There is, however, a tiny, perhaps moving, boundary i crossed somewhere along the way – averting a likely path into the world of “one bad damn decision after another”.  Part of what i am doing with this forum is to try to understand how that happened…

Parenting two rather extraordinary young adults who share some of my genetics (The Girl, 21, and The Boy, 19), i want to understand how i got out of The Park.  So that i can help keep them out of The Park.

The sister who also got out once said “The Trailer Park’s got long arms”.  Scary and true.  One must be vigilant…

Welcome – and i hope you enjoy the virtual Park experience.  Comments are encouraged!