Thursday, February 18, 2010

Weeeeeee!

goes the snow as I clear off the driveway at The Secret Cabin.

Well, after being here for four full days, on day five today, I was finally ready to go out to The Secret Cabin. Today was also a day filled with weird little "thingies". Keeping in mind that I'm one of those people that gets tangled in tape if I tear off a piece longer than an inch, I had trouble getting the garage door open so I could get the Jeep out of the garage. Just a little ice and I only needed to put a little more umph into it but because I was having a really, really hard time with just the thought of going out to the cabin, I didn't want to give myself any excuse to put it off any longer and self medicate with something sugary. Going to the cabin was going to face my failures. Oh, yeah, sign me up for that. Sigh. I fought tooth and nail everyday for five months to get this place done so we could move in last year. It didn't happen. I failed. More important, though, I didn't want to hear, see, or feel the echos of last summer and fall. Homes have vibes. Before anyone gets all, "Yuck, I don't want to read woo-woo crap," consider how it feels to walk into a room where there has recently been an argument. "You could cut the tension with a knife," is a saying most of us are familiar. That's what I'm talking about. The Husband and I love this place. Never in our wildest dreams did we think a place like this actually existed yet alone that we would get to live our dreams. This is where The Man and I are going to party like rock stars and grow old together. We're not leaving until they find our dusty, spider webbed, intertwined old bones and haul us out on a stretcher. I was so afraid that the cabin and property that Mike and I love so much was going to be ruined by all that went down there last year. Yes, it was that bad. I wasn't physically attacked but I was emotionally attacked and mentally ridden into the ground. Constantly. I have to remind myself that The Husband is used to getting compliments regarding me. Last year was the first time in twelve years that he's received any complaints. He got plenty of them too and all from the same person. I thought it was against "guy code" to say anything bad about a man's wife to that man. I cling to the compliments that The Husband did receive from three different people from three different companies. After taking a little break over the holidays and then coming back, things have changed. They're the same. Oh, so the same. Yet, as I discovered once I got back to the cabin, which I discovered unlocked, only after discovering and scaling the two and a half foot snow hill left by the plowing of the main road blocking our driveway, which was yet again only after discovering my new snow shoes were both right feet, which I discovered worked better than two left feet, I have a slightly different perspective. I was more sad than angry. Oh great, the grieving process hard at work. Anger, sadness, guilt, etc. So, I was with sadness. That was until I got to the Lower Level (walk out basement) to, yes, discover more damn work for me. Dammit, dammit, god f'ing dammit. How many f'ing damn times did I tell the damn electricians that I didn't want that done that way and what kind of f'ing idiot puts shit that close to a wall that needs to be insulated and drywalled yet. And you took up some of my wash machine space-someone is going to die dammit! Tape measure broke? Missing? Too damn lazy to use it or your f'ing brain?! Ugh! It's not fun doing or paying for this stuff the first time yet alone redoing it dammit. Gee, I wonder why this is taking so long and costing so much. Hmm? I'm fighting this battle all by myself. The Husband was standing right there when all this went down. He told them also. But that's not enough. You've got to plant your feet in the ground like an old oak tree and say, "No." Then say, "No, that's not what I want," Then say, "No" again and again and again. And then say, "That would be f'ing ugly. I don't f'ing want to look at that shit in my house. I'm the owner and I sign the checks f'ing dammit." Then you get to mill around after they've blinked and glared at you for getting all super bitchy for no reason at all and make sure they do what you asked and not do what you asked them not to do. Michael is not used to that kind of crap. He tells the pilots how to fly. They either listen or kill themselves and a bunch of other people. (Wouldn't that be a cool skill to have with EVERY ONE that has well functioning hearing?) Not only did I grow up on a farm, work on a farm, and now have a farm and I'm used to wading in a pile of shit, I also was a secretary. Hear me ROAR. That reminds me I need to make an appointment to go get my blood pressure checked. Anyhow, homeowners under going construction/remodeling should be awarded a kill somebody-get out of jail free card. It wouldn't completely stop some of these "professionals" but it would be a kind of Darwinian way to eliminate some of the bad ones so they don't bother you or anyone else so it could be justified as a public service. Because I thought of this, I get more than one card. The important thing, though, I discovered our cabin is still The Secret Cabin that we love which I discovered before I discovered I couldn't get the gate to close on my way back into town no matter how much umph I used.

But wait there's more....

The Husband took two more of our elder feLIONs to the vets for their check ups. Poor Guy Cat. He hates going to the vets. We have to put an extra towel in the carrier so he can burrow under it and hide. Did you know that if you don't look at someone they can't see you. Both, Guy and Grant got a clean bill of health. Kind of helps me put things into perspective. Good news about our feLION family members from the vet makes any day a great day and life is right for The Man (aka DaddyCat) and me. So a shout out to everyone at The Fremont Animal Hospital in Fremont, Ohio. HELLO!

And to finish off a pretty, darned good day, I went to the artists' circle tonight at the Calumet Art Center. Artists just hang out and talk. It's so nice. We can talk about color, shape, composition, how the light and shadows play, etc. and no one thinks your weird or if someone does think you're weird, it's perfectly okay. If someone would have told me that I would be hanging out and talking and becoming friends with these amazing artists that are so well traveled in their careers, I would have never believed him/her. Wow, we've discovered home too.

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