The Knitting Journeyman

Gathering Up One Thread At A Time As I Weave This Web Of Mine.....

Tuesday, June 8, 2010

Carving Out Some Time...For Drivel....

my personal pic (c) 2010 all rights reserved

            Is it really only Tuesday this week?   I find that hard to believe.
            Sunday was an amazing day.  I met some lovely people.  We got rid of a whole bunch of stuff…and I feel good about where some prized objects are going.  Which leaves us w two very empty bedrooms, one at each house…and us needing a place for my son to sleep before we bring his bed over to the main house this week-end.
            I was amazed, as I watched things go w their new owners, not just my own, but R’s as well, the feelings of nostalgia that crept up.  There were some things I wanted to keep, not because we need them or have space for them or may need them later on…but because of where they came from, who gave them to me in the first place, or why I bought them in the first place.
            The very last piece of the ex-husband is now officially gone.  Or at least the only piece I had left that made me think of him in any way.  We bought a trunk to use as storage and as sort of an end table/coffee table when we first moved to St Louis.  I had long ago painted the top.  Why I painted it rather than decoupaged it, I can’t tell you.  I was into decoupaging things at that time. 
            It is more than time, for both R and I, to let go of things.  It’s more than that.  We aren’t just letting go of things.  We aren’t just getting rid of things.  It’s more like casting out the old…and not only bringing in the new…but reconstructing and rebuilding our life together, from the top down and the bottom up. 
            We went furniture shopping last night, to look for a new bed.  It’s funny to think that neither R nor I have ever had a bedroom set that matches.  This time around, we both will.  We are looking to get rid of all the couches…and to buy new.  I’ve already laid the foundations…if he pays for the trip itself, I will buy the furniture…and we’ll be going to Ikea to redo everything, which we’ve wanted to do anyway…the only question at this point is which Ikea to go to… do we go to Chicago, which neither of us really cares for, or do we drive the 10-13 hours to Pittsburgh, see my family and friends, go shopping, and head home….Pittsburgh has the advantage of my favorite book store being so nicely close to Ikea….but the trip to Chicago can be a one day thing…so we can just go there and back.  I can be in and out of Ikea in under an hour…and redo darn near the entire house…for under $2000…yes, two thousand dollars…and in under an hour—seriously…

            Ok.  I have an incredibly mean streak.  I am having way too much fun thinking how R’s ex so wanted to do what I am doing…and if she had ever been able to open her mouth, it would have happened.  When I moved back to the St Louis area in 2008, he was talking about how he knew he’d be moving in w her soon.  He was just waiting for her to ask him.  We had talked about how he was moving in w her before I was certain I’d be coming back to this area, before I bought the house across the river, everything.  The plan then was, since he was sure she’d ask him (or tell him) to move in to her house that I would rent his house, so that when something happened, and he knew it would, he could move back into his own house without an issue…and we already knew we’d have no issues as roommates.  Since she never once spoke up at all, I bought my house.  Now I am moving in w Rich.  We’ve been together, officially, as a couple, for how long?  And she wanted to move in w him for how long? 
            I have long felt bad for this woman who steadfastly ruins her life due to her inability to open her mouth.  I have the same sort of sadness and …not sympathy exactly for N’s dad, for the exact same reason.  If they could or would ever learn to actually communicate, they might honestly be able to be happy.   Think about it.  She spent how long, buying a house not only for herself but for R as well, while he kept telling her to make sure she was not buying it for him, or his dogs, or for any other reason other than herself.  One, he knew the relationship was not going to last and two, he knew she’d make him absolutely miserable about anything she disliked about the house that was strictly for him in her mind.  She bought the house she thought was best for him, for his dogs.  She never asked him to move in.  She never told him she bought it with him/the dogs in mind.  She complained about the things she had looked for in the house specifically for the dogs, or for him, but never said anything outright about how it had all been for him/his dogs. 
            Now, some of you are going to say he should have been more proactive, telling her what he wanted, getting involved in looking at houses w her, with them as a couple in mind.  That was not what was happening.  She was buying her house, alone.  He could come look at things w her, maybe, but she was the one making all the decisions about everything and she never let him forget that.  He was looking at this as a real estate investment for her…not as their home…which was how she came across as looking at things, even if she meant it otherwise.  (Sorry, I did get to read a few of her emails concerning the house…I am still in therapy over the insipidity of them.)  Basically what I got from things was that she thought she was old enough to buy a house, she had the money to buy a house, it was a good investment for her, and it was time for her to buy a house because that is what grown-ups do.  Not because she’d outgrown her apartment.  Not because she wanted a place or space of her own.  Not because she wanted to set down roots, start a family, build a home. 
            When R and I look at houses, we have two ways of looking at them.  The first is strictly this is a rental house.  We aren’t looking for stuff for ourselves, what we want, what we’d like.  We are looking at it from a monetary standpoint.  Nothing more.  When we look at houses for us, as a couple, we look for so much more.  We are looking for that Home, for that place where we can raise our children, for that place we will be happy putting down roots and growing, a place that will grow w us.  We look together…and we talk about everything.

            I also get the task—I am not complaining—and my kid is doing more of it than I am—of shredding old documents for R that he should have shredded eons ago but never got around to doing it.  That ex did everything in her power to eradicate every trace of any other female ever in R’s life prior to her.  Her getting rid of his divorce documents caused issues for us when we bought the house I am moving out of…and yet, here I am, with access to the ex-wife’s entire financial history and life…which is kinda scary…I know what the ex-husband and his …whatever…did to me…what he did to his other ex-wife…and I have a lot more information about things these days as well…having someone’s social security number is a very very bad thing these days.  Luckily, I won’t do anything at all.  If my own credit weren’t so trashed from my divorce (I never did anything to rebuild it, because of the ex)…then the wreck in 08 completely tanked what was left.  I’m not worried about the ex, or anyone else, doing anything to my credit or stealing my identity…if they want it, they can have it, it’s so bad.  There is a strange freedom in that.  The ex, all the exs, are safe, because they’re all gone and there’s no need to worry about them or think about them or anything else.  I don’t want to cause trouble for or with them.  I simply don’t have the energy to care.  But it is still a freaky power to have in hand, thinking, what if I were such an evil b*tch like everyone says I am…the things I could do…but…that just isn’t me…and I am not sorry about that.

            Now, looking around the house, and listening to the plans R has in his head…and knowing once he tells me I will more than likely push things until they happen, I am pretty jazzed about moving in here.  Not all at once will we do these changes, but as we go along.  Like, putting a door in the back of the house, off the dining room, so it opens out into the backyard, and building a deck/patio there….like cutting away walls and building closets and shelves…like opening up the closet in our bedroom and creating more space and utilizing it all much better…like building a room or two downstairs, finishing out the basement, increasing the usable space and increasing the value of the house.

            We know we are going to be here a couple years.  Strange how when R was teasing me about getting what I wanted (moving in w him), my first reaction …well, ok, my actual first reaction was how exactly is this a castle in Wales?  Snarf.  But after that, it was…the other house, the bigger house, w the land and neighbors far far away and out of sight…it can wait.  I knew, after a week or so to get used to the idea, that we are going to be fine in this house, that even if I were pregnant right this second (I am not), this house still has more than enough room for all of us, even if I were to have twins.  Hey, K from across the street was picking on us last night.  R’s house really is the biggest house on the street.  K has five children, five.  And her house is smaller?  I’ve been in it, at least the top floor.  It is smaller.  They built rooms in the basement.  They have a great screened in porch in the back yard too.  And they raised five, they are raising five children in that house.  Wowsers.

            B and B are coming this week-end w a load of stuff.  Other than the bed, and the rug, I have all of N’s stuff out of his room, so that can at least have that space.  I can have all of the stuff, except the dresser, out of my bedroom this week as well.  We are renting a trailer this week-end to start bringing over the bigger heavier stuff…depending on when we get the floors done here.  At least R and I know we can move everything between the two of us…and most of the heavy and awkward stuff isn’t coming to his house.  I love the salvation army…when there is a disaster, say a tornado that eats houses like candy, they are the first people on the spot, and they stay the entire time.  Unlike the Red Cross, there is no wait time, while people figure out what paperwork needs to be done, who gets vouchers, whatever it is…the second it is safe to come out, salvation army members are there, passing out blankets and coffee and whatever they can.  This opinion is based upon my personal experiences and experiences I personally witnessed during times of disaster.  This is why I always donate to salvation army, and not to the red cross.  The red cross is a bureaucratic machine, from what I saw and continue to see, even though they do do good things…the salvation army just wants to help when help is needed.  That means something to me.
            Why did I go there?  Because the salvation army will take darn near anything in donations…and I do not want to deal w craigslist again simply to get rid of things for free.  I understand that the stuff is free and people need it…but I don’t deal well w stupid.  I don’t want to call you so don’t send me your phone number…that’s why there is an email address…that’s also why items are described in the ad…when it says free in several places on the ad and you are in the free section of listings, that pretty much tells you how much everything costs…I don’t know you so there is no way I am posting my actual address anywhere in the ad nor will I give it out to every goofball who emails and says what’s your address without any confirmation that you 1 want anything we have or 2 are coming to get anything we have…the ad says Florissant…that is all you need until we have a confirmed pick up time.  The other issue I have is…if we are emailing to confirm a pick up time, it pays to read the whole email I send.  Especially when it says, if I am busy and can’t make it, I will leave the item/items on the porch for you…just pick it up.  No one is going to touch it in our neighborhood—except you.  When I have said, in two different emails, that I am not sure I will be there, but I will leave the item on the porch, don’t spend three hours emailing me to ask where I am when I know you have to walk past the trunk in order to get to the front door of the house to knock…and that the trunk is indeed visible from the driveway…as I set it up that way…safe from weather and still visible…Stupid people like that are why I called the salvation army and said…we have couches…we have big furniture…we have stuff…when can you come get it please?  And they said, sure, no problem.  We’ll have a truck there on this day.  At both houses.  With no issues whatsoever.  All R and I have to do is make sure we have everything out there where they can get to it.
            Today I am waiting for the WAC pick-up.  They may be out of luck.  The only time I have ever had issues is w the WAC pick-ups.  Once they didn’t bother to pick anything up, despite the fact 1 they drove by and 2 the stuff was clearly labeled.  I had said the stuff would be in the driveway—unless it rained, when it would be on the porch.  Apparently, they looked in the driveway…and not the 1-2 feet over on the porch, where the bags sat w the big WAC sign on them…and drove on.  I left the bags out til the next morning, in case they just needed to empty the truck and come back.  Today…it is about to rain…there are cardboard boxes of stuff this time.  Rain and cardboard do not mix.  They don’t come get this stuff before the rain starts and I am schlepping everything into the back of the truck and dumping it off at goodwill
            I need to mow my lawn too…and can’t back the truck out until they pick up the stuff.  We set it up last night so that we could tarp everything to keep it all dry because it was supposed to rain last night.  *Sigh*  So much to do.

            I get to landscape at R’s house now.  I get to plant my lilac bushes in the backyard under the bedroom window.  I get to plant the azaleas…and the pampas grass.  I get to move the hostas out of the front bed and into a bed we are building under the crab apple tree.  We bought a round raised garden kit the other day.  We had too many kids and too many things going on, so we haven’t gotten the dirt for it yet.  But, once we get it set up, I get to dig up hostas to move them and to plant some bushes along the front of the house.  I’ve been teasing R w the idea of growing something that vines up the banisters along the front porch.  I want to paint those first though, so we’ll see.
            He’s going to have fits when he sees what I can do w plants in a yard…I want roses somewhere around here, dogs be darned.
            Red ink tattoos heal so ugly.  When I got my dragon, when it started to shed skin, I honestly thought it was going to come off completely.  My tattoo artist Bryn said that’s normal.  She had similar things happen w her red inks.  My cover up star…egads is it healing ugly…it is healing…and I am starting to see decent tat under all the yuck…but boy for awhile there I thought it would just scar up and be horrid.  Although it does sort of look like zombie flesh at the moment…what w the purple in the middle, over a layer of red…and the white and grey overgrowth as everything heals and flakes off…
            Last time we went to the library, I loaded up on knitting books.  I even borrowed a movie…E borrowed several movies.  Since she is refusing to do schoolwork, especially when her brother is w us, she was not allowed to watch the movies…and I never made the time to watch mine…so they went back unwatched.  As I do w knitting books, I found out a couple were worth buying.  So, amazon, here I come.    I had decided that I was going to order several books geared specifically towards E in the hopes of jump starting her desire to learn.  I want to move to something more vital for her, something that doesn’t require me stuck up her butt or her stuck up my butt 24/7 …but something that gets her involved and excited.  I ordered some curriculum books, a book on notebooking, and some journaling for young girls books.
            I look at my 9yo and I see me…when I was 13, 14 yo…and that was a terrible place for me…I don’t want her there.  I want to get her out of her head, out of her dark spaces.  I had my writing.  I had my books.  I had all the things that kept me sane alone in the cave that was my life.  She can see the light—we bloody well keep blinding her with it in our trying to drag her into it…we’ll see if any of this helps.  I am this close to putting her into speech classes though…she mumbles…and I know why based on the people she hangs out w at times…but I can’t get the enunciation through to her.  Grammar she sort of gets, most of the time, but speaking clearly enough to be heard and to be understood…we’re working on her.
            Basically, I ordered The Knitting Experience Book 3: Color…and found out I now own an autographed copy … Sally Mehlville signed this book herself.  I bought this book because it seemed to help w the whole colorwork thing…intarsia, and other techniques.
            I also bought the newest Mason Dixon book and have already started working on the Swifty.  R has been wanting one for awhile now.
            Darn it!  This week-end is an ever loving mess!  B and B will be here, unloading a truckload.  Pagan Picnic is this week-end.  I am lucky I don’t have a booth this year—but next year, my friend and I are going in together on a booth.  Sunday is the Bunny Expo that E and I both really want to make it to…R and I want to move furniture this week-end…wowza…how are we ever going to manage it all?
            Ok…so enough of this chattering already today…I have to get my front lawn mowed at the very least today.  More is coming soon.  Just hang in there.