Christ on a bicycle! What happened?! Three months have passed since I've made a peep (some of you may thank me for that). I haven't been writing. Actually, let me clarify that; I took a class in which I filed two assignments, became annoyed with the instructor's feedback, more annoyed that nobody surfaced for the weekly on-line chats after which I just dropped out. Way to finish something. Well, on the bright side, I have been drinking and smoking less frequently although yoga classes have gone by the wayside, mainly because on a good day, town is a half hour drive one way and fuel costs are through the roof.
Which brings me to the great epiphany I had yesterday while lolling about with a hangover as I stared out into the still partially snow covered fields. I'm outta here baby. Neither one of us wants to spend another winter up here in the big empty, replaying scenes from The Shining season after season. Before we plan this escape back into the world of the living we have much work to do at Wheatland--rooms to re plaster and paint, floor refinishing, a bathroom and kitchen and library to add, a bathroom to finish, plumbing and electrical to move, leaks to fix.... it goes on. Money is beginning to run down and trying to keep costs to a minimum requires both our undivided attention to the tasks at hand. Here is where motivation comes in handy.
Still unemployed, one of my great morning past times now is to sit unmoving in Rayna's 'safe place' while she decides to eat her breakfast, or not, dependant on her state of mind any particular day. As of late, hand feeding is de rigueur while trying to shoo cats away from her bowl and deflect Pip's snarly glances. I think about getting things done while on watch duty. My thinking usually takes me throughout the day until somewhere about five o'clock, I start thinking about dinner.
I am not a self-starter and self-employment would be... well, let me just say that I'm putting it into practise right now.
This day reading my email I came across our final snow-plowing bill from the neighbour which is always met with a mix of trepidation and amusement. The final bill is usually the time when the wifes' creativity flourishes and she makes up extras to tack on, bilking us for all she's got. This bill used the term 'upper driveway', a charge now separate from 'driveway'. But, to lessen the blow, a 'no charge' for checking the driveway appeared. Thanks for that freebie. I could have told you it was still there. Considering that it snowed twice worth plowing since the mid-winter bill was paid out, her creativity is unsurpassed. Must be all the suduku puzzles she does on the crapper increasing her brain power--then again, standing around the garage drinking beer every day probably cancels that out.
I don't have a plan. It doesn't matter where we end up once we're done here, albeit hopefully in a more convenient place to employment, people and places. What matters is that we don't give up and see this through. We made the choices and now we have to clean up the mess if we're to move ahead. Actually, it gives me hope and poses challenges that I really hope we're up for. Here's to sanity.
Be seeing you.
