I really need to stop whining about my life and just get on with it. But the difference between sunny warm weather and dark new england winter days is night and day. I started moving the stuff i want to take into the small garage. I did manage to clean off the porch a bit and started pulling stuff from the cellar….and i realized my idea of going with as little as possible was a pipe dream. the things that i am setting aside are kinda bulky – wheelbarrow, galvanized buckets, hoses, wooden lawn chairs, cat cages…the trunk in the picture is stuffed with things from my porch like small propane tanks, i may have to go through it again. But if I were to chuck it all, or even put it on freecycle, i probably have to replace it all. I am still struggling with individual things, but not as much as before…today someone picked up my mother’s chairs and was happy to get them. i have a few odd chairs I will bring, and a couple of small tables…in my head i think i will replace them down the line, but i know i probably won’t. If we scroll back to last September, when i was having delusions of being flush AND having a house at the same time…now i realize it is one or the other, never both…. i claimed i didn’t want a house full of used and antique furniture, all mismatched and picked off the curb like early frathouse decor. I still don’t mentally, but in my soul, i know I should just shut the fuck up and use what i have.
Last night I forced myself out of the house, and met up with a friend and her friends for a drink and a bite. I was a little old for the group, but they seemed to like my company and laughed at my jokes. At some point the coconut margarita kicked in and i realized that these thirty something couples living in their little one bedroom flats, would kill to be in my position, and i really needed to stop whining and get my shit together. As much as my mother hated this place and persecuted her second husband for convincing her to buy it. It really was a good idea – if we still only had the single family house we sold in 1976, my half would be infinitely smaller. If my brother wasn’t such an asshole I probably would have enjoyed living here more and been willing to stay, but that wasn’t what it was. The pair of them were the villains in my life and the further i get from them and this ‘mausoleum’ as my mother called it, the better off I will be. Or at least that’s the story I am sticking to.
Still no word on the sale of this house, which is becoming increasingly inconvenient – an influx of cash would be great right about now. I am no longer afraid I WON’T get the little house, i am just really upset that i will probably have to overbid to secure it, and not have as much capital leftover make the necessary in infrastructure changes I need. All my fantasy spending aside, I will need to put a lot of cash into the house, just to get it to the same occupancy level as the apartment I am in now: Appliances, heat, laundry, screenporch, furniture…not to mention paint, paper, shelving..my god, all my crap needs shelving. But that’s just more stuff for the list.
I did manage to get a couple of books moved from the unedited pile to the edited pile – and i have started on a couple more. The kid next door gave my computer a good scrub and it is now running Windows 7 and Indesign, we did the same thing for the Laptop but it decided it couldn’t handle it….so now the laptop is on my pile of shit to be repaired along with my digital camera and my favorite computer mouse…i should actually take all those things and put them in the bed of the Pick up truck that i can no longer drive and push them all into the river.
I just finished transcribing this funny little novel from 1904 which I THINK is a clever gentle comedy of manners, but I dont trust my own judgement anymore. The Gordon Elopment (1904) Takes a young Edwardian NY married couple who are sick of being descended upon by visitors so they just pack and get on the first train going north, and turn up at a practically empty summer resort in Maine. Soon they are joined by other young women and gentlmen suitors and dogs and wackyness ensues. I wish I had other people I could impose to read this sort of ON THE FENCE titles. i didn’t see enough Maine location wise to say ‘yes! this is great’ instead it was just a pleasant read that happened to be set in Maine. So even though i went through the trouble of creating a nice clean text tile…it won’t be the first one I have set aside because there wasn’t enough THERE THERE. Perhaps I am looking for brilliance where it isn’t, not everything is Jerome K Jerome’s Three Men in a Boat to Say Nothing of the Dog, yet I just keep looking for another one.