The sun'll come out tomorrow...

Ok, ok! Maybe some of us are getting a little too much sun!

Little dip in the road there. We have come to some new places with this decision and have developed a plan (version 982.4). House still gets completed and goes on the market the Tuesday after Labor Day. We have reinforcements coming to help make that date. As soon as a deal is on the table and we are in escrow the Buffledog and I are going to set out on a meandering journey south and then east. Bonnie will continue to work, training her replacement as the wait is on for closing. Meanwhile all of the superfluous stuff of our lives will be stored except what is needed to stage the house and live, albeit minimally. She will fly out over the weekends to meet me in Arizona, New Mexico and Texas. We had planned on doing this trip/fly/meet in the spring, but there was entirely too much to do here to justify the weeks that would take. Eventually we will land in Atlanta and engage in various family obligations that will carry us to Alabama and Florida as well. The hope being that by then we will have made some decisions regarding relocation.

Crazy as this sounds, those that know us will know that this suits us, both individually and collectively – not a whole lot different than how we came to be here. Do we continue down the path together or separately is a question for later as we need all of our energy to do what needs doing now – pragmatism at its zenith. Financial ruin is not in either of our cards. Good thing we have both the time and the wherewithall.

All this serves several needs: she gets closure with her work and I get some processing time during my drive-a-bout. If nothing else it will provide lots of entertaining blog fodder along the way!!! I also hope to get in as many visits with those of you who are along the path as I can manage.

…of course this could all change tonight *wink*

While I was writing this I was listening to Kate Rusby’s version of Iris Dement’s Our Town – seemed fitting...

Artist/Band: Kate Rusby (written by Iris Dement)
Song: Our Town
Album: Sleepless

And you know the sun's settin' fast,
And just like they say, nothing good ever lasts.
Well, go on now and kiss it goodbye,
But hold on to your lover,
'Cause your heart's bound to die.
Go on now and say goodbye to our town, to our town.
Can't you see the sun's settin' down on our town, on our town,
Goodnight.

Up the street beside that red neon light,
That's where I met my baby on one hot summer night.
He was the tender and I ordered a beer,
It's been forty years and I'm still sitting here.

But you know the sun's settin' fast,
And just like they say, nothing good ever lasts.
Well, go on now and kiss it goodbye,
But hold on to your lover,
'Cause your heart's bound to die.
Go on now and say goodbye to our town, to our town.
Can't you see the sun's settin' down on our town, on our town,
Goodnight.

It's here I had my babies and I had my first kiss.
I've walked down Main Street in the cold morning mist.
Over there is where I bought my first car.
It turned over once but then it never went far.

And I can see the sun's settin' fast,
And just like they say, nothing good ever lasts.
Well, go on now and kiss it goodbye,
But hold on to your lover,
'Cause your heart's bound to die.
Go on now and say goodbye to our town, to our town.
Can't you see the sun's settin' down on our town, on our town,
Goodnight.

I buried my Mama and I buried my Pa.
They sleep up the street beside that pretty brick wall.
I bring them flowers about every day,
but I just gotta cry when I think what they'd say.

If they could see how the sun's settin' fast,
And just like they say, nothing good ever lasts.
Well, go on now and kiss it goodbye,
But hold on to your lover,
'Cause your heart's bound to die.
Go on now and say goodbye to our town, to our town.
Can't you see the sun's settin' down on our town, on our town,
Goodnight.

Now I sit on the porch and watch the lightning-bugs fly.
But I can't see too good, I got tears in my eyes.
I'm leaving tomorrow but I don't wanna go.
I love you, my town, you'll always live in my soul.

But I can see the sun's settin' fast,
And just like they say, nothing good ever lasts.
Well, go on, I gotta kiss you goodbye,
But I'll hold to my lover,
'Cause my heart's 'bout to die.
Go on now and say goodbye to my town, to my town.
I can see the sun has gone down on my town, on my town,
Goodnight.
Goodnight.

Seeds of doubt

How little are we prepared for the seeds of doubt when they are planted. Finding they there is actually fertile soil for the seeds to germinate may be more disconcerting than the seed itself. When the seeds are planted by someone you trust then the disquiet become more troublesome and virulent.

I feel like I should back up here a bit and fill in a few gaps for some. In 1997 we took a year long road trip, some of which I have chronicled here, in an effort to reinvent our sagging, tired and boring lives. We had been separated for over 6 months and part of the reconciliation was to dump corporate life and try and find some peace; with ourselves, with each other and with the life that we were living. In some ways we were fairly successful in this venture and decide to jump coasts and start again in the Great North West Wet. We never intended to stay and that is an important component here. We did, however, purchase housing with an eye on escalating value and resale potential. I found myself right back in the same corporate soup pot and after 7+ years of 60-80 hours weeks, healthy bank account, broken body and a broken soul the pot was beginning to stink. Fortune shined its little face in November of last year and through a series of unfortunate fortunate events I, with a group of others, was turned out as a reward for making more money than the new owners and their corporate model was comfortable with paying and, brain trust be damned, we were shown the door. I’m DONE with corporate (scumbags all)!

Ah, prime opportunity to spend time fixing up the abode that I never had time or energy for before and a prime market opportunity to move the property and take our marbles elsewhere. Plan is to buy down in a more affordable market, lose the mortgage and begin to purchase investment property and do what I do best and that is to turn a marginal property into a desirable property.

Still with me so far?

The where is still yet to be decided as there are obligations regarding family that need to be addressed and some of those obligations might influence the decision. The preference is sunnier, dryer climates and the SW is high on the list as a general area and some specifics being a higher elevation, some seasonal change and a much smaller community.

Since there is so much energy and time needed to put this place in order we have put the issues of relationship on the back burner. Yes, that is still an issue and we’ve found ourselves right back in the spot we were in 1996/97. Sure, we could throw this into the mix and perhaps make decisions based on a very tilted platform, but we have agreed that we are not going to dilute the little bit of waning energy we have and get through this project – our combined pragmatism at play here.

So that brings us to present and we were anxiously awaiting our friend and realtor to arrive last night. She arrives and is already salivating over the changes that have happened so far and the plans for the remaining projects. Her excitement was building all during the walk-through and we sat down with some fast food, a begging dog and her sheaf of comps and started talking time and money. Market timing and project completion (with some help) seems to be in sync and suddenly she asked, “Do you really want to sell and move?” I’ve never been hit by a train, but I think we now both have a pretty good idea as to what that instant must be like. We stumbled and bumbled and justified and sanctified and were not able to say with utter certainty that this was the right choice now. It was/is her job as both friend and professional to ask the question and both of us are grateful in a wadded up sort of way that she broached the subject. We had been so caught up in the specifics of the work that the overview was a little cloudy.

She left us at 8 pm with visions of a bidding war for the house and this damnable “seed”. We finally went to bed at 3. Hadn’t we already decided all of this? Hadn’t we raked through the muck of indecision and doubt already? Apparently we hadn’t and the seed continues to germinate today as we decided to just sleep and stew on it through today and see how we feel tonight.

Indecision and doubt are VERY debilitating and we cannot allow this to last past tonight. There is entirely too much to do to get lost in wallowing around in this and we both acknowledge that our discontent is fueled by stuff very real.

Is there a “Round-up” made for this – a systemic doubticide?

Little pleasures

I have a lot and nothing to say this morning. I’ve decided instead to share a couple of small wins.


note: she gets stored vertically - at 18.5 feet it's hard to do otherwise!!!!!
First the canoe, the poor neglected canoe, got a much needed and long overdue bath and an outing. She is a very happy girl! Here she is climbing back into bed.


A working appliance in it’s new home. It’s hard to imagine how we can live without until we have to do without. So we’re 2 for 4, microwave and refrigerator, stove and sink are waiting on the floor to be installed.


The Acanthus (A. Montanus) or Bear's Breeches that have never bloomed in this spot did this year. There are others in the yard that bloom, but this one never has. Why this year? A parting or farewell wave? Who knows!

Happy Monday!

Lassie! Lassie! Timmy's in the well...

I had a whole different post started for today, but something most remarkable happened tonight that I thought I’d share that instead.

The Buffledog and I had been on one of our daily visits to Home Depot and Lowes (I know – Twelve Step program for me after this remodel) and he’d been very patient staying in the truck. He did let me know in no uncertain terms that we would go for a walk when we got home. So…home we were and the truck was unloaded and he started herding me toward the door. I said the magic word “walk” and he was doing pirouettes to the gate - a picture isn’t it? We had a small conversation at the corner as to which way he wanted to go and he chose the park and as soon as I said “ok” he was bounding down the road toward the Canine Barnes & Noble.

He checks out the traffic circle and the most peed on pole in the world and we saw a car (silver Jetta) idling and cigarette smoke billowing out of the window and chose to cut across the park and bypass the car. I wasn’t ten feet down the bisecting sidewalk when Taylor started herding me back. I didn’t get it at first and thought he just wanted to roughhouse and as I started moving again he resorted to his strongest measure and sat down. Something was up! When I came back toward him he started marching purposely back to the house not stopping to read any news. He didn’t like something and we were going home – do not pass go – do not collect $200 – home. It was the shortest walk ever!

Fifteen, maybe twenty minutes later we heard sirens…police heading for the park. Then my phone rings and it was the block watch captain. He had seen us crossing the street to the park but didn’t see us leave and wanted to see if we were alright. Seems another walker got mugged in our park – first time that’s happened since we’ve lived here – 6 years.

That’s all I know tonight. I’m sure I’ll get an earful tomorrow.

Those of you who have been protected by a dog will understand fully how powerful this was; for those of you that haven’t, well I can only say that often they know stuff that we don’t. I am constantly amazed at his instincts and how grateful I am to this beloved canine and his sixth sense. That’s twice this week!!!!

Again in the Dark Wood

Optimistic though I may be, sometimes to a fault, Murphy can still prevail. One false move with a piece of sheetrock and Murphy sets up a party at L2/L3 and I find myself floating for days on a Vicodin/muscle relaxer cocktail – downside #543.4 to doing all the work myself. Wait! It’s not that Hot Sauce is not participating; she has a list a mile long as well! I’m just finding myself on the “catch-up curve”. Yesterday was a fairly productive, albeit tender, day and today should move things along, but there is a lot to do between now and Friday when the realtor comes. I suddenly feel like one of those makeover shows on HGTV – where the hell is Ms. Travis anyway? Putting in the floor has thrown a whole new wrinkle into the project, and now I have to level the floor in the addition, an 8 X 12 room off the kitchen - poorly done inherited addition at that – since it slopes down about 1¼ inches! So it looks like a lot of midnight oil will be burned this week.

Given the amount of work to be done I will largely be MIA this week, but not entirely – this and you all are my “silver lining”.

The level of my Vicodin induced haze? Well, I took the Buffledog for a walk to pick up Chinese on the Ave. On the way there I forgot where I was going and we ended up at the grocery store instead, but I couldn’t remember why I was there. I thought maybe I should call home and reached for my cell phone and it wasn’t there. I decided to use the pay phone and as I’m cradling the receiver and starting to dial I couldn’t remember the number – didn’t think through the phone book or calling information. I thought maybe I should go home and walked right past Taylor who was tethered outside to the bike rack and fortunately he barked so loud as I passed him by that it shook me into some small state of reality. Seeing the Chinese Take-out sign across the street switched on the bulb long enough to bring up my original mission. Folks, I don’t even remember the transaction for the food and TG for Taylor remembering the way home or I might have ended up in Vancouver. I think I went to bed. Such were my hazy, lazy, crazy days of summer.

Have a good week all!

The calm before the storm

My house is a wreck and I’m a tired puppy; BUT, this weekend it’s going to all start falling into place. In the midst of tearing the kitchen apart other needed changes to the configuration have started to present themselves – bound to happen, huh?

So it's all been stripped out and it was like looking at a giant piece of blank paper and suddenly all the plans flew out the window and then design block happens. So the refrigerator has been moved several times and “put down a new floor, don’t put down a new floor – old one is fine” came and went with the purchase of the new flooring with a codicil of “let’s take it right on into the bath” added to the mix. So now the purchased cabinets won’t fit as the result of moving the reefer so some will have to be exchanged. I think all parties concerned are finally in agreement with the new configuration – it all looks good on paper and in a 3D drawing. Here’s hoping that it’s so.

HAPPY WEEKEND ALL!

Rock jock to Grandpop...

… in 4 not so easy lessons!

Yep you heard that right!!! 4 – count them – uno, dos, tres, cuatro nietos!!!!!!!

Number 4 came screaming into the world yesterday around 6p EDT and every bit of his 8 pounds 11 ounces was voicing his opinion of the state of things around here.

What???

I was a child bride, what can I say! *wink*

No! I don’t feel like a “Pop” most days – why I’m only …… er …… um …… 29 …… ahem …

AARP? What’s that? “Awesome Association of Rock Peeps”? Yeah, that’s what I thought!

“Oh girls, can we stop now? Contrary to popular belief (and Hollywood) they are not cheaper by the dozen. You have figured out how this happens, haven’t you?”

HAPPY THURSDAY Y’ALL

Sweet summer

The sun was already strong, blasting its way through the morning with a full assault on the field of dew coated grass and the steam was already beginning to rise. The haze would be thick by ten and the humid air unbreathable. I sat on the steps picking at the chipping paint, obsessively working one spot to see what the wood looked like underneath. I had often wished that they hadn’t painted the porch or the steps of the farmhouse – I knew the wood would look just like the heart pine flooring; that rich golden red color that is the heart pine signature. My eyes kept drifting to the end of the gravel drive, to the red mailbox at the corner of the pine thicket and the end of the drive. I knew Clara would be rounding the corner soon, having completed her chores and would be blissfully free until noon.

Such were the mornings at my great uncle’s farm, a 160 acre spread that was a subdivision of a much larger farm belonging to his father. None of my great uncle’s siblings got along when it came to working a farm so they split up the 1000+ acres among the six of them. I don’t think it really solved anything since the discussions involving farm matters amongst any of the six would always dissolve into a squabble and further into a fight if liquor was involved – more often than not the home brewed variety. I was in my element there though, spending as much of my summer there as I could wheedle and whine out of my folks. I was there because of my great aunt, my grandfather’s youngest sister, and though none of these country bumpkins were blood bumpkins they were “my” bumpkins and more family than I could stand – I loved it there. The stay wasn’t free, as we had chores to do, but once in the rhythm it left plenty of free time to enjoy a bevy of “not-cousins”.

Clara was one of these non-related cousins and we had formed a bond and a friendship the previous summer and this summer it had evolved into an awkwardly wonderful summer romance. We were both 14 and were inseparable during our freedom from chores. It was an easy friendship and formed a heartbeat all its own. The mornings were exploratory and discovery times - new kittens and calves, learning the nuances of driving a tractor that seemed impossibly huge, searching for crawdads and mudpuppies in the creeks and often just the treasures that the pastures and meadows would offer up. The afternoons were generally spent doing chores interspersed with skinny dipping in the river to ward off the heat and boredom of the sultry days and never lacked participants. Nights were gatherings of some description, whether it was church or music or simply listening to the crickets courting or the growing arguments of the sibs and escaping when things really got testy.

I saw her shadow emerge from behind the trees and watched her purposeful walk as she headed up the drive. Sam, her beloved mutt of no distinguishable lineage, was running ahead and kicking up a little red dust and snapping at the grasshoppers that rattled off at the last saving second. With quiet fascination I watched her walk and as I raised my hand in greeting the silence was broken by the singing of a door spring and slamming of the screen door and followed with a cough that belonged unmistakably to my great uncle. He reached down and ruffled my hair and asked me to walk the north fence and look for breaks. Clara had reached the steps by then and asked if she could go as well, already knowing that the answer would be yes.

We checked on the kittens and dawdled at the coral to feed some apples to the mules. We hopped the wood fence of the coral and crossed over to the north electric fence that ran along the tree line down to the old sawmill. The sun was warm and it felt good to walk barefoot in the soft grass. We were holding hands and the awkwardness of “us” had long since departed … even all these years later there have been very few moments equal to this glorious morning in the foothills of the Smokies – it was as perfect as perfect can get.

Clara plucked a couple of seed stems from the Johnson grass growing along the fence and put one in her mouth and handed me the other. The stem was grassy and acrid, but it seemed such a right thing to do on this lazy morning. Sam continued to run ahead and the staccato rattle of the grasshoppers was in rhythm with the birdsong and Sam-barks and the occasional frantic scurrying of the pasture creatures. We were in perfect concert with each other.

Once beyond the sight of the house and Ben on the tractor chugging along in the hayfield near the road we both stopped and turned to face each other and in that moment nothing else existed in the universe other than Clara, me and our not-so-secret “us”. We slowly leaned in to each other and I could feel her breath laced with the now-sweet scent of the grass – young love, awkward in its innocence and movement. I shifted my weight and stepped back with my right foot, anticipating taking the weight of Clara as she leaned in to kiss me. ZAAAPPPPP! The universe broke and the blinding light shattered the moment and we found ourselves on the ground, both trembling from the shock of the electric fence. When I had stepped back I stepped on the wet grass next to the fence and touching the fence we both got a bit of fence-juice. Once past the shocking moment we fell apart in hysterical laughter.

Putting on our Keds we gave the evil fence a more respectful distance and stopped once again at the sawdust pile of the sawmill and turning once again found each other, well clear of the offending fence - a sweet and glorious morning.

Stripped to the studs!

This pic pretty much says it all - remodel madness!!!!! Plumb, straight? Nevah! It's actually been easier tearing it all out and rebuilding from the floor up! Cabinets are being hung today! I'll post more pics later this weekend.

Have a great weekend all - and yes, I'm still smiling!

Where is the "piano man"?

Lately it’s been the same walk everyday; a two mile walk of news and noteworthy events for Taylor and the same houses and the same yards for me. He sees it as an adventure and for me it’s just become routine – the only change being the browning of the grass and the passing of the blossoms as summer wears on. He’ll allow for deviation occasionally, sometimes with relish and sometimes with reluctance; yet it seems to matter not the direction, the press of unsolicited thoughts remain the same. I suppose it’s a creative crisis, perhaps initiated by overwhelm, but it is pervasive and intrusive.

I was thinking about what we are doing here, blogdom that is, and it came to me we are a lot like a neighborhood bar. No sooner than I had the thought then Joel’s “Piano Man” started looping through my dullness – this line stood out: “Yes, they’re sharing a drink they call loneliness, but it’s better than drinkin’ alone…”

Cheers y'all!

Peaceable Kingdom

Too cute not to share!

Hope you all are having a splendid weekend!