The gorgeous old antique carved dragon chair? Turned out not to be $65 as I thought, but $1600. I don't know where I got the number of $65---I could have sworn it was written on the subject line's listing on craigslist...but I've gone back today and looked for it, to no avail.
My lord, that chair was stunning. Looked like mahogany. I was so ecstatic to see it, find it beautiful and comfortable, and so I happily planned for it to be placed in our back seat. The nice dealer said to me, "But you haven't even asked me how much it is...?" And I had a sinking feeling right then. "Isn't it..$65, like the ad said?" And he just looked shocked, and said "$65! Oh dear, no....I put almost twice that amount into just the cleaning up part...it's $1600..."
Thud. "Well, thanks anyway...sorry to have bothered you..."and nothing would do but that he looked it up himself on Monday's listings. Of course there was no number at all connected with it. *Why* on earth did I associate $65 with this??? I can't believe it. We drove to Florence specifically to pick it up... if I'd known it was $1600, there's no way we would have done this.
Well. It was a gorgeous day to drive, sunny, clear, and always uplifting to see the coast.
Moving on: Yesterday I had two separate phone calls, from the HR dept at the big medical group here. Both asked me to come in for interviews! So tomorrow at 10:00 I see the Orthopedics department manager, and at 1:00 I see the Internal Medicine dept manager. I'd prefer the ortho dept--it's back office, and therefore more patient-oriented.
The other job is the front desk, and I have many years of experience working with the public, true--but the office also is the same one where I (eventually) "fired" the first doc I met up with here in this town. I'm a professional, so I'd suck it up and work there...but I would really prefer the ortho job, assuming I even get offered both. (That's a big assumption right there.)
So tomorrow will be interesting. The job locations are in different areas of the hospital campus, so no chance of running into anything awkward. The well-respected HR- manager-blog I read daily deals with all kinds of work situations and interview questions--everything work-related you could think of. I looked up this odd (to me!) situation and discovered it's not at all weird. There were all kinds of helpful phrases, conversations, suggested questions to ask, etc. I will re-read it all in the morning.
J had his annual physical yesterday morning, and now has a referral to a dermatology office to look at some of his (suspicious-to-me) moles. They also want to re-do his brain CT scan since it's been 2 years, to see if some of his worrisome symptoms are "normal" aging, or something more unnerving. Because of his stroke and AF, they want to keep a closer eye on him. He complains of more fatigue in the evenings, an increased need for naps, occasional vertigo, more frequently noticing that his hand grip weakens, occasional "blanking out"--forgetting where he is, or what he was doing, and having to stop and think about that. But those symptoms could be simply older age. Or, they could be something more.
Today, something upsetting happened. We were stopping at the store on the way back from the coast, and since we had Murphy with us, we parked the car in the shade, and left the windows open on both sides, about 3 inches. Then we hurried into the store, grabbed a few things, and were heading up to the cashier to pay, having taken no more than 4 minutes in choosing the items. Suddenly there was an announcement on the loudspeaker that the owners of the Saab in the handicapped space in the front of the store needed to check on their dog who was "in distress". Argghh!
Now, unfortunately Murphy is not trained to be quiet in the car for any length of time. If he is alone in the car, he is a yapper. (We kind of don't know how to make him not yap.) But he was perfectly fine, if noisy. J was terribly embarrassed; he was standing in the line to pay when the announcement was made, and I was on my way to joining him, having suddenly remembered I needed peanut butter. J apparently then told the lady that was his dog, and he was fine. The lady who had reported us then told us we should be grateful that people cared enough for the animal to be concerned. J politely yet bluntly told her that the dog was fine, and yes, he appreciated her concern. Then he was still upset enough that he asked me to stay and pay, so he could go outside to the car.
When I got outside, he was still livid. That bad taste lingered for a while. We normally do not take the dog with us if we have shopping to do, but this was one time we didn't want to go all the way home to drop him off and then come back to pick up the few items. I guess from now on if we are in a situation like this, one of us will stay with the dog. Sigh.
Tired tonight...glad we are home, and glad tomorrow is Friday. Two interviews in one day: I'm going to be wiped out.
Thursday, August 30, 2012
Tuesday, August 28, 2012
Tuesday
My "big plan" on how to transport the blue furniture is a big ol' bust. My cousin doesn't want it after all, presumably because of the cost to transport it back East. Considering we had to rent the truck up in WA to bring it all down here (for him), he is currently figuring out how to reimburse us.
In the meantime, we have all the furniture here. Sitting in the carport. (Although, there's no real urgency and no necessity to remove it all now, since we don't have a second car.)
And in a weird coincidence, an artist/woodworker friend of Collin's visited us Sunday afternoon to give us an estimate on what the cost would be to properly finish the captain's desk (which mom had given J last summer, and for which we paid Ivan...who didn't do a good job at all, nor did he finish the job). The woodworker absolutely fell in love with the blue furniture. J, being an expert negotiator/salesman, bargained with him: he can have the blue furniture as the payment for refinishing the captain's desk. And this will work out nicely.
If the other cousins do want the furniture after all, then we'll work something else out...but in any case, the furniture will go to a good home with someone who appreciates it--even if it isn't Family. That makes me feel so much better--I was hating the prospect of giving it to Goodwill.
The insurance co will send us a check for the Lincoln this week, and we have another week with the rental. Not that we really need it, but it's fun to drive around town.
I hate my haircut. It came out way too short, and I hate that feeling. Nothing I can do about that til it grows out-- and I hate that not-in-my-control aspect too.
Arggh! I hate the mood I'm in. Talking with my sister Sunday helped so much. I try not to talk with J too much about my sadness/depression/lethargy, because I'm worried I might be becoming too much of a burden. Realistically we are married, so he obviously loves me and is committed to me, supporting me through thick and thin. But I've long felt an obligation to try to be upbeat and positive no matter what I'm dealing with. And sometimes it just feels like too much effort to try.
But sometimes I do just get teary in the middle of a seemingly innocent conversation, and then J is right there, hugging me, listening to me, patiently encouraging me. He doesn't seem to ever get tired of my moodiness. What a blessing he is.
This week J is finally, finally tackling the disgusting ceiling we/he's been living with all these years in the house. He never had the time, money, or effort to fix it, as other issues were more pressing. But finally the time has come. So we/he draped plastic over the walls and furniture and floor, removed what we could off the walls entirely, and then hosed it all down (up??) with the garden hose!! I was shocked to see that hose coming inside...but amazingly the fine spray directed at the ceiling worked quite quickly: J climbed up on a stepladder and began scraping at it, and it came off in big rubbery sheets. Didn't take long at all. It created a huge mess of course. Dust everywhere, inescapable. Difficult to breathe.
Then he repaired the patches which needed work, and then painted the whole thing white, first, as a primer coat. After that driedwe he decided to try applying the pale blue color we found at Habitat. It was, is, beautiful! Looks so nice... that all took most of the day. By 5 we were cleaning up.
Of course, as happens, this project got more involved. There was so much water leaking through the plastic sheeting on the floor (which is actually covered with an old antique rug) that we decided to remove the entire rug. It's never been cleaned professionally since it's been in the house; and it's now outside, draped over the fence. Dragging that outside was a monstrous job. It is huge, and very heavy, and desperately needing cleaning. Seeing the bare wood floors is also inspiring; now we are wondering whether to go ahead and refinish the floors...
For now, while the rug dries outside until we decide what to do, the floor inside is bare, and that plus the new ceiling color makes a huge difference.
J was utterly exhausted after that day, yesterday. He just sat, and watched the news. I made a dinner of creatively mixing two different types of soups, and he had bread and butter with it, while I had the leftover baked chicken and some corn. We actually considered going out, since neither one of us felt like cooking. But I recovered a lot quicker than he did, because I did less, and so it made more sense to stay home and eat simply, economically, and certainly healthier.
Then I still felt emotionally vulnerable, and so watched a favorite Disney movie, "Finding Nemo", one of my go-to comfort movies. J fell into bed around 9, and was asleep almost instantly. Wish I could do that.
Today I get to wrap up G's birthday presents and ship them down to her. She'll be five next week. What a huge difference she has made in my life; what a blessing she is.
Today also J and I will finish the ceiling trim, and then start on re-painting the "dining area". A couple of years ago we painted it, and the color at the time seemed all right. But over the months since, it's faded or changed or something, and I just can't stand it anymore. So it will also become a pale blue.
And Thursday, we will drive down to Florence. I just happened to be looking in the antiques section of craigslist yesterday; actually I was looking for a possible replacement rug. What I found was a gorgeous old carved dragon chair. I fell in love. J is insisting we at least go look at it...he is so sweet, so good to me. It'll be nice to get out to the coast.
In the meantime, we have all the furniture here. Sitting in the carport. (Although, there's no real urgency and no necessity to remove it all now, since we don't have a second car.)
And in a weird coincidence, an artist/woodworker friend of Collin's visited us Sunday afternoon to give us an estimate on what the cost would be to properly finish the captain's desk (which mom had given J last summer, and for which we paid Ivan...who didn't do a good job at all, nor did he finish the job). The woodworker absolutely fell in love with the blue furniture. J, being an expert negotiator/salesman, bargained with him: he can have the blue furniture as the payment for refinishing the captain's desk. And this will work out nicely.
If the other cousins do want the furniture after all, then we'll work something else out...but in any case, the furniture will go to a good home with someone who appreciates it--even if it isn't Family. That makes me feel so much better--I was hating the prospect of giving it to Goodwill.
The insurance co will send us a check for the Lincoln this week, and we have another week with the rental. Not that we really need it, but it's fun to drive around town.
I hate my haircut. It came out way too short, and I hate that feeling. Nothing I can do about that til it grows out-- and I hate that not-in-my-control aspect too.
Arggh! I hate the mood I'm in. Talking with my sister Sunday helped so much. I try not to talk with J too much about my sadness/depression/lethargy, because I'm worried I might be becoming too much of a burden. Realistically we are married, so he obviously loves me and is committed to me, supporting me through thick and thin. But I've long felt an obligation to try to be upbeat and positive no matter what I'm dealing with. And sometimes it just feels like too much effort to try.
But sometimes I do just get teary in the middle of a seemingly innocent conversation, and then J is right there, hugging me, listening to me, patiently encouraging me. He doesn't seem to ever get tired of my moodiness. What a blessing he is.
This week J is finally, finally tackling the disgusting ceiling we/he's been living with all these years in the house. He never had the time, money, or effort to fix it, as other issues were more pressing. But finally the time has come. So we/he draped plastic over the walls and furniture and floor, removed what we could off the walls entirely, and then hosed it all down (up??) with the garden hose!! I was shocked to see that hose coming inside...but amazingly the fine spray directed at the ceiling worked quite quickly: J climbed up on a stepladder and began scraping at it, and it came off in big rubbery sheets. Didn't take long at all. It created a huge mess of course. Dust everywhere, inescapable. Difficult to breathe.
Then he repaired the patches which needed work, and then painted the whole thing white, first, as a primer coat. After that dried
Of course, as happens, this project got more involved. There was so much water leaking through the plastic sheeting on the floor (which is actually covered with an old antique rug) that we decided to remove the entire rug. It's never been cleaned professionally since it's been in the house; and it's now outside, draped over the fence. Dragging that outside was a monstrous job. It is huge, and very heavy, and desperately needing cleaning. Seeing the bare wood floors is also inspiring; now we are wondering whether to go ahead and refinish the floors...
For now, while the rug dries outside until we decide what to do, the floor inside is bare, and that plus the new ceiling color makes a huge difference.
J was utterly exhausted after that day, yesterday. He just sat, and watched the news. I made a dinner of creatively mixing two different types of soups, and he had bread and butter with it, while I had the leftover baked chicken and some corn. We actually considered going out, since neither one of us felt like cooking. But I recovered a lot quicker than he did, because I did less, and so it made more sense to stay home and eat simply, economically, and certainly healthier.
Then I still felt emotionally vulnerable, and so watched a favorite Disney movie, "Finding Nemo", one of my go-to comfort movies. J fell into bed around 9, and was asleep almost instantly. Wish I could do that.
Today I get to wrap up G's birthday presents and ship them down to her. She'll be five next week. What a huge difference she has made in my life; what a blessing she is.
Today also J and I will finish the ceiling trim, and then start on re-painting the "dining area". A couple of years ago we painted it, and the color at the time seemed all right. But over the months since, it's faded or changed or something, and I just can't stand it anymore. So it will also become a pale blue.
And Thursday, we will drive down to Florence. I just happened to be looking in the antiques section of craigslist yesterday; actually I was looking for a possible replacement rug. What I found was a gorgeous old carved dragon chair. I fell in love. J is insisting we at least go look at it...he is so sweet, so good to me. It'll be nice to get out to the coast.
Friday, August 24, 2012
Friday
Well, RATS. I didn't get the DreamJob. I was so disappointed. The director called me Wednesday afternoon, and told me they had filled the position, but that they were glad to have met with me. Sigh.
So now it's Friday and I'm remembering that at this time a week ago we were driving to Seattle, having lost the Lincoln in the fire. We kept replaying the incident, and talking about it. And were shaking, still.
Today we visited the Oregon DMV once again, showing up with the title (finally!) to mom's Suburban, hoping to get it registered in my name so we can sell the damn thing. The DMV worker said no, we'd have to go to WA to register it, and then, at my look of dismay, took another look at the forms I had had returned from the WA state DMV office. I explained the story once again, and this time she told me something else entirely...that I just have to make copies of the death certificate, the POA form, and the notarized form requesting a copy of the title, and send that all along with the actual title to Alan. Alan can now sell it for us, and then the new owner just takes all the forms with him to register it in WA state. Sigh. Hope this works.
Then we got a replacement Handicapped tag for J, since his other one was melted in the fire.
Then we rented a movie for tonight, and I got my hair trimmed, and we came home to finish working on replacing the windows on J's old truck. Finally also finished photographing the artwork of mom's and Gramma's. We walked our usual hour, and I tried to ignore my depression. But I found myself in tears yet again. J is just so supportive--what I would be doing without him I do not know.
My depression comes from mourning, from sadness over losing my job, from my feeling that I should be doing *more* somehow, from the extreme lack of energy I'm dealing with, from my disrupted sleep, from the headaches which are present more than half of my waking hours; from not getting that job, from frustration over not seeing a whole lot of jobs I can apply for, from fear of not finding work. (Which is why I dyed my hair.) Also from generalized anxiety. Money is a huge issue, although we are getting along just fine. Somehow I can't let go of my worries about it.
J reminds me to think of my gratitude list, to trust in my HP, to remember that we are doing all we can right now, and not to "should" on myself. Whatever I'm doing, is all I can do...and all I can do is enough. I have to remind myself several times daily (that everything is happening for a reason). That I'm supposed to be learning something from this.
I make up lists of Things To Do. And then try to feel grateful that I'm able to do these things. I try to remember that a few months ago I was actually looking forward to *not* working for a few months, because I was feeling so overwhelmed. Now it's been a few months, and I'm anxious because I wonder if I was insane. Sigh.
Later in the day we heard from the insurance company regarding the proposed settlement. Sigh. (And we are discussing another option for transporting the blue furniture, which I won't write about just yet, as we are still just considering it.)
Okay...dinner is ready...maybe I can shake off this mood.
So now it's Friday and I'm remembering that at this time a week ago we were driving to Seattle, having lost the Lincoln in the fire. We kept replaying the incident, and talking about it. And were shaking, still.
Today we visited the Oregon DMV once again, showing up with the title (finally!) to mom's Suburban, hoping to get it registered in my name so we can sell the damn thing. The DMV worker said no, we'd have to go to WA to register it, and then, at my look of dismay, took another look at the forms I had had returned from the WA state DMV office. I explained the story once again, and this time she told me something else entirely...that I just have to make copies of the death certificate, the POA form, and the notarized form requesting a copy of the title, and send that all along with the actual title to Alan. Alan can now sell it for us, and then the new owner just takes all the forms with him to register it in WA state. Sigh. Hope this works.
Then we got a replacement Handicapped tag for J, since his other one was melted in the fire.
Then we rented a movie for tonight, and I got my hair trimmed, and we came home to finish working on replacing the windows on J's old truck. Finally also finished photographing the artwork of mom's and Gramma's. We walked our usual hour, and I tried to ignore my depression. But I found myself in tears yet again. J is just so supportive--what I would be doing without him I do not know.
My depression comes from mourning, from sadness over losing my job, from my feeling that I should be doing *more* somehow, from the extreme lack of energy I'm dealing with, from my disrupted sleep, from the headaches which are present more than half of my waking hours; from not getting that job, from frustration over not seeing a whole lot of jobs I can apply for, from fear of not finding work. (Which is why I dyed my hair.) Also from generalized anxiety. Money is a huge issue, although we are getting along just fine. Somehow I can't let go of my worries about it.
J reminds me to think of my gratitude list, to trust in my HP, to remember that we are doing all we can right now, and not to "should" on myself. Whatever I'm doing, is all I can do...and all I can do is enough. I have to remind myself several times daily (that everything is happening for a reason). That I'm supposed to be learning something from this.
I make up lists of Things To Do. And then try to feel grateful that I'm able to do these things. I try to remember that a few months ago I was actually looking forward to *not* working for a few months, because I was feeling so overwhelmed. Now it's been a few months, and I'm anxious because I wonder if I was insane. Sigh.
Later in the day we heard from the insurance company regarding the proposed settlement. Sigh. (And we are discussing another option for transporting the blue furniture, which I won't write about just yet, as we are still just considering it.)
Okay...dinner is ready...maybe I can shake off this mood.
Tuesday, August 21, 2012
Tuesday
The insurance co is paying for a rental car for a week, because in a weird coincidence, my Honda has developed a cracked fan belt. B will fix it, but is not able to til tomorrow, and says we shouldn't be driving it in the meantime. So we have a nice new Saab. Looks like a spaceship inside, with all the controls. It has a keyless start button--that's freaky!
The root canal went better this time, although I was just sickened this morning on the way up there, thinking of what this is going to cost. I could not let go of the idea of spending so much money--wouldn't it be better to just have the damn tooth pulled?? But in the end I did the root canal. Now I get to call and schedule the second half, the final crown, which will be done by my local dentist in the next week. It's almost 5pm, and my whole left lower side of my face is still numb, from my nose down. Sigh.
It's a sunny hot afternoon, and I'm about to try for a walk. I think. I don't feel up to the WW meeting tonight, and am actually considering changing to Thursday night's meeting; I'm not too impressed with the leader on Tuesday nights.
Last night, sometime during the night I woke to hear a loud rustling, just outside our bedroom window on the ledge. J was awake quietly listening to it also, and I grabbed my flashlight so he could see what it was. I heard, "Well, well, Sheba-kitty!" Then I heard, in an entirely different tone of voice "JesusChrist!" And that made me sit up and look--it was a possum, head first into the bag of almost-empty dog food that I'd dumped out there earlier. It backed up out of the bag and rooted around a bit, before leisurely jumping off the ledge and disappearing.
We both lay back down, and laughed; yesterday while sitting on our back deck, we'd spent a half hour watching a hawk trying to outsmart a big grey squirrel across the creek. He followed the squirrel up and down the various trees, and even flew to a branch pretty darn close to the house, sitting there briefly before realizing we had a very clear view of him and flying off a bit. It's great to live in such close proximity to wildlife...
Just as we were drifting off to sleep again, the same rustling started up--and the possum was back! This time J went outside to shoo him away. And this morning I tossed that bag right into the trash can, where I should have placed it first.
No word from the dreamjob. I know I should just let it go, and go on with my search, and I am---but I'm also waiting to hear from them. Every time I catch myself thinking about it, I try to force myself to change direction.
In the meantime,we're doing work around the house, inside and out, preparing the wood pile, working on removing the old popcorn ceiling in the living room, etc; I have a list of projects!!
Maybe I'll walk after dinner today...it's pretty hot.
Saturday, August 18, 2012
Saturday
Life is certainly exciting. Thrilling, even, as J said yesterday, as we watched the Lincoln burn. Oh, yes--and we were on a busy Portland bridge, middle of the afternoon (heading out of town on a Friday) rush hour traffic, too.
Poor J--his "baby" is gone... Everything was alright--we'd just had the brakes replaced two weeks ago, an oil change the day before we left for Seattle, and we had just filled the tank before facing the Portland traffic.
We'd seen a highway notification sign saying there was a vehicle fire ahead so I5 was closed, and to detour and take 405 North. As we did so, along with 4 other lanes of traffic heading over the bridge, J suddenly said, "Something's not right here-- the car engine is racing", and he immediately shut off the radio and the a/c, trying to move to the right for an exit; that was about a mile ahead, and the car was alternately revving and slowing all the way. He managed to get us off the bridge and we pulled into the hospital parking lot, where everything seemed just fine. He drove around it a bit more, and nothing else happened. (J says now, "Duh...what was I thinking??")
So we decided to press on, but this time we had to get back on the 4-lane bridge to get back to the correct road. As he drove onto the bridge uphill-merging into traffic and accelerating, the noises and thunks started again, and he said, "This isn't good. We're in trouble here-- and the brakes aren't responding". He began shifting into different gears, to get it to respond. All of this was happening so fast! Cars and trucks were whizzing by, and he was still trying to move to the right. The car shut off by itself after J put it in neutral...and he had to re-start.
This time he put the hazard lights on. Suddenly there was a thunking/crash type noise from the back, and I looked out the passenger mirror to see huge clouds of billowing black smoke. Then there was a funny smell, and there was smoke coming up out of the console, and from the area of the glove box.
By this time people were honking, pointing, and waving frantically as they drove by---but J was pretty damn busy trying to get over to the side; he said the brakes wouldn't stop the car, and then we heard more big crashes and explosions from the front, and we could see smoke coming from under the hood. I saw the car getting closer to my side of the bridge, and thought he was planning to gently roll us against it to stop the car, but then... it did stop.
Someone behind us outside called to us urgently to get out, get out quickly. We leaped out, and grabbed our things, and backed away from the Lincoln. J then ran back to the trunk to grab the fire extinguisher, and headed toward the front of the car to try to put the fire out, calling to me to dial 911. As I did so, a couple of people had stopped near us, and were keeping the lane clear, waving traffic on around us. I finally got through to 911 and was told someone had already called it in, and the fire trucks were on their way. J came back to where I was standing there shaking, and I suddenly remembered the antiques! I asked J to run back and grab them out of the back seat, and he did so, without hesitation. (Now I think, jeez what was I thinking!!)
The fire trucks arrived, and the police, and EMS. By this time I was staring in shock, watching the car burn wildly. It seemed to take forever. I just wanted to cry. The firemen finally got the fire under control, basically letting it burn, and occasionally dousing it with extinguishers. Someone came and gave us some very welcome water (our water bottles were in the burning car), took our information, and the vehicle info, and checked the burns on J's hands; the police officer was very calm and helpful, and ended up taking us to the nearest car rental place which happened to be an Enterprise. He brought us inside, and explained what had happened, and was so nice. All I remember was his name was Larry. He said the car would be towed off the bridge, and we could check into it Monday.
The rental place had one vehicle left, a Nissan Frontier. We were grateful they had any thing available, on a summer Friday afternoon, frankly. It was getting an oil change, so we had to wait a bit; we filled out paperwork, tried to catch our breath and recover a bit. It was so bloody hot, about 97. Thank god for a/c.
By 4:30 we were on our way north again. We kept re-playing the whole thing, over and over; he explained the reasoning behind each action, and he called his son to talk it over, too. They came to the conclusion that it was a "catastrophic transmission failure"; B had looked it up and discovered that the cruise control also occasionally had spectacular fire-y episodes...yikes.
We called the insurance company, and a claims adjuster is supposed to be in touch today. And we just assume the rental car will be covered...
I also called the hotel to alert them of our later-than-planned arrival. The rest of the trip went well, and we made it the hotel in Seattle by 7:30, very glad to have a glass of wine or three (me) and to take a hot shower (J).
This morning, we were up, dressed, packed up, and had enjoyed our free breakfast all by 7am. We found the directions to the Convention Center, drove there, and were standing in line to the Antiques Roadshow by 8am.
It was so exciting! Everyone was smiling, and happy to see what people had brought. It was so cool to see the appraisers in person, the ones we've seen so many times on TV. SO COOL. I love behind-the-scenes stuff. Each person is allowed 2 items for appraisals, and no photographs are allowed. Rats. Otherwise I would have been asking for autographs...
I learned about an old walnut lapdesk that was in my grandmother's family back to the mid 1800s, currently worth about $300-500; a gorgeous 200-plus year old silver French (not Russian, as we'd speculated) commemorative wine tasting bowl worth approximately $600-800; an old "ivory" carving of the Last Supper (which turned out to be mother-of -pearl), made in Italy in the 1950s, which the appraiser said wasn't worth more than $50; a beautiful white gold/diamond/sapphire bracelet which was made in the 1930s, valued at $1000; and the shocker: a brooch, made of white gold filigree and diamonds in the 1930s or 1940s, worth about $4000.
I was happy to learn so much. Of course all of these are all family items, so I'm not planning on selling them. Still, it was one of the best experiences of my life; there was so much energy there! We were part of the crowd milling around behind the camera as they were filming, so maybe we'll be seen. The Seattle show will take up 3 episodes, sometime in early 2013.
We were back in the truck and on the road heading south by 9:30. It was a nice and cloudy morning, perfect for driving. We got home by 2, dropped off the rental and are now home, happy to be here.
In other news: I had my interview last Wednesday, and I think it went well, although who really can tell. I feel I would be a great fit there, and can only hope. She said they were interviewing the rest of the week, and making a decision this coming week. One question she asked was..."Why were you paid so little??" (at my previous job). I answered that it was a very small office, and that I was willing to accept this in exchange for learning the field.
And other news: we learned yesterday that our friend Steve, who has been J's friend for 25 years, and who is also our insurance agent, has been diagnosed with melanoma, which has metastasized to his brain...they found 7 lesions. He was given radiation therapy, but there's nothing more they can do. He's basically been given a death sentence. He is 3 years younger than I am.
J is horribly shocked. This, on top of learning of John's death, has really shaken him. (I can't remember if I wrote about John--he was the one who showed up out of the blue a few weeks ago, and stayed a couple of nights. He was found dead in his hotel room last weekend.) Steve is not seeing anybody. So there's nothing J can do except grieve, and pray for him.
Well, we are back to one car. J has decided that maybe this is his God's way of telling him, listen buddy, time to stop driving back and forth to P'land on these acting auditions. With the price of gas going up again, I'm grateful we have the Honda; I'm grateful the Lincoln is the one that we lost, even though it was a dream to drive. The Honda may not be as comfortable, but it's probably more reliable in the long run, and it's darn sure worth more money (even if it is 7 years old).
And in case of a real transportation issue, J does have his Jeep. Granted it's not pretty: there's some cosmetic issues to be repaired, and it needs a passenger seat installed. I certainly won't be driving it, but he loves that Jeep.
Yes, I'm ready for a quiet few days. Tuesday is my root canal procedure, and we might go dig out the few items in the Lincoln's trunk that day, too, since we'll be in P'land anyway. I'll never forget the last view I had of it: melted and burned to a twisted pile from the passenger seat forward. Gone. So sad.
J now feels badly that he didn't immediately stop driving while we were at the hospital parking lot. He knows now he "should have" called AAA, which would have then come and towed it to a Ford dealer for a repair...we still would have rented a car to get to Seattle, but we'd still also have had a humungous repair bill...so maybe it's all for the best.
And I do believe everything happens for a reason. It was time for the Lincoln to be out of our lives, for some reason. And we are okay.
TYG.
Poor J--his "baby" is gone... Everything was alright--we'd just had the brakes replaced two weeks ago, an oil change the day before we left for Seattle, and we had just filled the tank before facing the Portland traffic.
We'd seen a highway notification sign saying there was a vehicle fire ahead so I5 was closed, and to detour and take 405 North. As we did so, along with 4 other lanes of traffic heading over the bridge, J suddenly said, "Something's not right here-- the car engine is racing", and he immediately shut off the radio and the a/c, trying to move to the right for an exit; that was about a mile ahead, and the car was alternately revving and slowing all the way. He managed to get us off the bridge and we pulled into the hospital parking lot, where everything seemed just fine. He drove around it a bit more, and nothing else happened. (J says now, "Duh...what was I thinking??")
So we decided to press on, but this time we had to get back on the 4-lane bridge to get back to the correct road. As he drove onto the bridge uphill-merging into traffic and accelerating, the noises and thunks started again, and he said, "This isn't good. We're in trouble here-- and the brakes aren't responding". He began shifting into different gears, to get it to respond. All of this was happening so fast! Cars and trucks were whizzing by, and he was still trying to move to the right. The car shut off by itself after J put it in neutral...and he had to re-start.
This time he put the hazard lights on. Suddenly there was a thunking/crash type noise from the back, and I looked out the passenger mirror to see huge clouds of billowing black smoke. Then there was a funny smell, and there was smoke coming up out of the console, and from the area of the glove box.
By this time people were honking, pointing, and waving frantically as they drove by---but J was pretty damn busy trying to get over to the side; he said the brakes wouldn't stop the car, and then we heard more big crashes and explosions from the front, and we could see smoke coming from under the hood. I saw the car getting closer to my side of the bridge, and thought he was planning to gently roll us against it to stop the car, but then... it did stop.
Someone behind us outside called to us urgently to get out, get out quickly. We leaped out, and grabbed our things, and backed away from the Lincoln. J then ran back to the trunk to grab the fire extinguisher, and headed toward the front of the car to try to put the fire out, calling to me to dial 911. As I did so, a couple of people had stopped near us, and were keeping the lane clear, waving traffic on around us. I finally got through to 911 and was told someone had already called it in, and the fire trucks were on their way. J came back to where I was standing there shaking, and I suddenly remembered the antiques! I asked J to run back and grab them out of the back seat, and he did so, without hesitation. (Now I think, jeez what was I thinking!!)
The fire trucks arrived, and the police, and EMS. By this time I was staring in shock, watching the car burn wildly. It seemed to take forever. I just wanted to cry. The firemen finally got the fire under control, basically letting it burn, and occasionally dousing it with extinguishers. Someone came and gave us some very welcome water (our water bottles were in the burning car), took our information, and the vehicle info, and checked the burns on J's hands; the police officer was very calm and helpful, and ended up taking us to the nearest car rental place which happened to be an Enterprise. He brought us inside, and explained what had happened, and was so nice. All I remember was his name was Larry. He said the car would be towed off the bridge, and we could check into it Monday.
The rental place had one vehicle left, a Nissan Frontier. We were grateful they had any thing available, on a summer Friday afternoon, frankly. It was getting an oil change, so we had to wait a bit; we filled out paperwork, tried to catch our breath and recover a bit. It was so bloody hot, about 97. Thank god for a/c.
By 4:30 we were on our way north again. We kept re-playing the whole thing, over and over; he explained the reasoning behind each action, and he called his son to talk it over, too. They came to the conclusion that it was a "catastrophic transmission failure"; B had looked it up and discovered that the cruise control also occasionally had spectacular fire-y episodes...yikes.
We called the insurance company, and a claims adjuster is supposed to be in touch today. And we just assume the rental car will be covered...
I also called the hotel to alert them of our later-than-planned arrival. The rest of the trip went well, and we made it the hotel in Seattle by 7:30, very glad to have a glass of wine or three (me) and to take a hot shower (J).
This morning, we were up, dressed, packed up, and had enjoyed our free breakfast all by 7am. We found the directions to the Convention Center, drove there, and were standing in line to the Antiques Roadshow by 8am.
It was so exciting! Everyone was smiling, and happy to see what people had brought. It was so cool to see the appraisers in person, the ones we've seen so many times on TV. SO COOL. I love behind-the-scenes stuff. Each person is allowed 2 items for appraisals, and no photographs are allowed. Rats. Otherwise I would have been asking for autographs...
I learned about an old walnut lapdesk that was in my grandmother's family back to the mid 1800s, currently worth about $300-500; a gorgeous 200-plus year old silver French (not Russian, as we'd speculated) commemorative wine tasting bowl worth approximately $600-800; an old "ivory" carving of the Last Supper (which turned out to be mother-of -pearl), made in Italy in the 1950s, which the appraiser said wasn't worth more than $50; a beautiful white gold/diamond/sapphire bracelet which was made in the 1930s, valued at $1000; and the shocker: a brooch, made of white gold filigree and diamonds in the 1930s or 1940s, worth about $4000.
I was happy to learn so much. Of course all of these are all family items, so I'm not planning on selling them. Still, it was one of the best experiences of my life; there was so much energy there! We were part of the crowd milling around behind the camera as they were filming, so maybe we'll be seen. The Seattle show will take up 3 episodes, sometime in early 2013.
We were back in the truck and on the road heading south by 9:30. It was a nice and cloudy morning, perfect for driving. We got home by 2, dropped off the rental and are now home, happy to be here.
In other news: I had my interview last Wednesday, and I think it went well, although who really can tell. I feel I would be a great fit there, and can only hope. She said they were interviewing the rest of the week, and making a decision this coming week. One question she asked was..."Why were you paid so little??" (at my previous job). I answered that it was a very small office, and that I was willing to accept this in exchange for learning the field.
And other news: we learned yesterday that our friend Steve, who has been J's friend for 25 years, and who is also our insurance agent, has been diagnosed with melanoma, which has metastasized to his brain...they found 7 lesions. He was given radiation therapy, but there's nothing more they can do. He's basically been given a death sentence. He is 3 years younger than I am.
J is horribly shocked. This, on top of learning of John's death, has really shaken him. (I can't remember if I wrote about John--he was the one who showed up out of the blue a few weeks ago, and stayed a couple of nights. He was found dead in his hotel room last weekend.) Steve is not seeing anybody. So there's nothing J can do except grieve, and pray for him.
Well, we are back to one car. J has decided that maybe this is his God's way of telling him, listen buddy, time to stop driving back and forth to P'land on these acting auditions. With the price of gas going up again, I'm grateful we have the Honda; I'm grateful the Lincoln is the one that we lost, even though it was a dream to drive. The Honda may not be as comfortable, but it's probably more reliable in the long run, and it's darn sure worth more money (even if it is 7 years old).
And in case of a real transportation issue, J does have his Jeep. Granted it's not pretty: there's some cosmetic issues to be repaired, and it needs a passenger seat installed. I certainly won't be driving it, but he loves that Jeep.
Yes, I'm ready for a quiet few days. Tuesday is my root canal procedure, and we might go dig out the few items in the Lincoln's trunk that day, too, since we'll be in P'land anyway. I'll never forget the last view I had of it: melted and burned to a twisted pile from the passenger seat forward. Gone. So sad.
J now feels badly that he didn't immediately stop driving while we were at the hospital parking lot. He knows now he "should have" called AAA, which would have then come and towed it to a Ford dealer for a repair...we still would have rented a car to get to Seattle, but we'd still also have had a humungous repair bill...so maybe it's all for the best.
And I do believe everything happens for a reason. It was time for the Lincoln to be out of our lives, for some reason. And we are okay.
TYG.
Tuesday, August 14, 2012
Tuesday
I have an interview, tomorrow, with the DreamJob people. I'm excited. Trying not to get my hopes up. Fortunately it's at 9am, so I won't have to wait all day.
Otherwise, no news. J has an appt with the chiropractor this morning, since he is still having difficulty with straightening up, and even moving around for any length of time. We went to his doc last Friday to get a prescription for some muscle relaxers, and they have helped a lot. But even so, he can't be upright for long. He's getting frustrated at the amount of time this is taking to heal, and looks at the amount of work still to be done for winter with a bit of panic, wondering how it'll get all done. I think we have plenty of time--but then, I'm not the one doing it!
Last night J's oldest son B and his partner J asked if they could come over and talk with us. Last time they did this, the idea of living at mom's property was brought up. This time, it turns out he has a job offer. This is out of the blue, and a blessing, considering they are just waiting for the official eviction notice, and then they have nowhere to go.
Job sounds absolutely perfect---but it's in Arkansas! If he's accepted, they'd be moving in the next 4 weeks. Moving expenses are paid for him (and his family), pay is between $16-20 per hour, which apparently there in AK is a great living wage. B will be driving down to CA next week to do some kind of testing, which is only for a day, and then driving back; (of course he wants to borrow the Lincoln. Sigh). They are very excited, so excited that they almost can't even think straight. This would be perfect for them...and they are fully aware of the miracle this is.
J is very happy and relieved for them, and the only drawback is the fact that they'd be leaving the area. J and B have always lived if not together, then very nearby. They have a very close and good relationship. But both recognize this opportunity is too good to pass up. It's a lifeboat for a drowning family.
And as soon as they left, J's first comment (after thanking God) was that he now has reason to re- consider moving from here, since he probably wouldn't be able to see B ever again unless he did so. Hmm.
Well, one never knows what will happen.
I'm off for my walk. Supposed to be 97 today.
Otherwise, no news. J has an appt with the chiropractor this morning, since he is still having difficulty with straightening up, and even moving around for any length of time. We went to his doc last Friday to get a prescription for some muscle relaxers, and they have helped a lot. But even so, he can't be upright for long. He's getting frustrated at the amount of time this is taking to heal, and looks at the amount of work still to be done for winter with a bit of panic, wondering how it'll get all done. I think we have plenty of time--but then, I'm not the one doing it!
Last night J's oldest son B and his partner J asked if they could come over and talk with us. Last time they did this, the idea of living at mom's property was brought up. This time, it turns out he has a job offer. This is out of the blue, and a blessing, considering they are just waiting for the official eviction notice, and then they have nowhere to go.
Job sounds absolutely perfect---but it's in Arkansas! If he's accepted, they'd be moving in the next 4 weeks. Moving expenses are paid for him (and his family), pay is between $16-20 per hour, which apparently there in AK is a great living wage. B will be driving down to CA next week to do some kind of testing, which is only for a day, and then driving back; (of course he wants to borrow the Lincoln. Sigh). They are very excited, so excited that they almost can't even think straight. This would be perfect for them...and they are fully aware of the miracle this is.
J is very happy and relieved for them, and the only drawback is the fact that they'd be leaving the area. J and B have always lived if not together, then very nearby. They have a very close and good relationship. But both recognize this opportunity is too good to pass up. It's a lifeboat for a drowning family.
And as soon as they left, J's first comment (after thanking God) was that he now has reason to re- consider moving from here, since he probably wouldn't be able to see B ever again unless he did so. Hmm.
Well, one never knows what will happen.
I'm off for my walk. Supposed to be 97 today.
Monday, August 13, 2012
Monday
Alan&Debbie emailed me that the missing check has finally arrived. Weird. So we agreed that he'll apply it toward the amount we owe now, and I just sent a check for the balance. We're caught up now, til he does the final few chores on the list the realtor wanted done.
My wonderful dad sent me a check also, to help with the enormous medical bill I'm about to incur with my root canal. They called to confirm it this morning, and I thought that was odd considering the app't was Wednesday; but they had me scheduled for tomorrow!! ....but I can't do tomorrow, because J has his chiro app't tomorrow. So I've rescheduled the root canal til next Tuesday, the 21st.
It's so hot today, and supposed to be hotter than hell all the rest of the week, culminating in the upper 90s by Thursday through Sunday. Ugh. I did my walk early this morning, and will be doing so the rest of this week. I do not know how people manage without ac.
This morning we discovered a very strange noise coming from one of the chickens, the Buff Orpington; after doing some research on chicken illnesses (complete with videos on youtube to identify the strange sounds she was making) we learned she most likely has a respiratory illness--it's a continuous wheezing noise, accompanied by a soft cluck. She doesn't seem otherwise affected. Fortunately none of the others are doing this noise. So off we went to the feed store for some antibiotics; J has just mixed it all up in their drinking water, and so all the ladies will be treated. Amazing that you can buy antibiotics for your livestock without a prescription, but you can't buy it for yourself.
Over the weekend J felt better off and on, so he worked on the chicken coop, and finished last night. The new little girls are still sleeping in the kennel, away from the older ladies, but we think the additional roosts in the original coop will take care of the issue. Eventually they will all be sleeping together in the coop. After we get back from Seattle, we'll work on the transition.
My daughter came up Saturday afternoon. J thought I ought to "talk with" her about her recent blog post, where she stated she felt closer to her grandmother than to me, her mother. He was hurt, for me. I had to think about it, but I'm actually not hurt. I feel very secure in our relationship as mother-daughter, and I'm very glad she was able to establish and maintain a strong connection with her grandmother.
It's the same bond I felt with my own grandmother. I don't know if my mom knew I felt closer to her mother than to her, but if you take the ego out of the statement, it's totally understandable: I was/am much more like Gramma than mom. My daughter is much more like my mom, than she is like me. Not to say we aren't alike...just that they understand each other intuitively, the way Gramma intuitively understood me.
I'm sorry S is taking the death so hard. Grief is a harsh lesson. I'm very lucky that I had my own grandmother for 44 years... S had hers for only 22. Another aspect that made it worse for her was that they were in the middle of a disagreement. Both wanted to talk about it, and "make up", but mom died before that resolution could take place. I would be a wreck if Gramma had died in the middle of an issue we hadn't resolved, so I think I can understand some of what S is going through. But then, Gramma and I didn't ever have "issues". Whereas mom had issues at various times with every single person she knew. Quite a different personality.
Anyway, our afternoon was nice, aside from the ongoing grief. We went shoe-shopping for her, and she was able to find a good pair at a decent price. We also had some girl-fun looking for toys/ items for Gabby's upcoming birthday, and for looking for some clothes, and looking at different hair color shades. We then decided to dye our hair, pretty much on the spur of the moment (for me anyway).
I've been pondering if the reason I'm not getting a lot of callbacks for interviews is possibly my age is pretty obvious. So I've done a couple of things to combat that: I deleted the year I graduated from high school; I deleted all the jobs in the 80s despite the fact that they demonstrate skills I've had forever and the fact that almost all jobs I've ever had are in health care; and now I've changed my hair color, to remove the grey. It came out a lot morered auburn than I was prepared for. It's also much darker. I think I do like it--but it's a big change. Now I get to decide if I want to continue this process.
Today we picked up the coming year's supply of fresh canned albacore; it's expensive, but oh my is it yummy. Knowing it came from a local dock, and that it's better tasting and better for you than the tuna from the big chain stores makes a huge difference, which is reflected in the price. It's worth it.
It's almost too hot to do anything. But yesterday J and I began the process of re-photographing the various paintings and artwork of mom's, so we can determine if we want to keep or sell. Of course, I'm keeping the various Family history related stuff. But others I either 1) don't feel an attachment to, and 2) don't have room for.
Once these are all photographed, we'll send the photos to our artist friend William, and he can help us with appraisals and with determining financial worth. I will then confer with the Sibs to see if either of them have emotional attachments to anything in particular, and if not, then we can sell.
Taking the photos means being Outside, and then unwrapping each item, measuring it, and photographing it, then numbering it, with a brief description and the artist's name if known. J wants to continue this today. Despite the fact that it's almost 90 outside now. With no wind. True, the wind picks up later in the evening, cooling it off a lot for bedtime. But in the meantime, it's H.O.T.
All I really want to do is lie on the sofa and read...and have a large glass of ice water nearby.
My wonderful dad sent me a check also, to help with the enormous medical bill I'm about to incur with my root canal. They called to confirm it this morning, and I thought that was odd considering the app't was Wednesday; but they had me scheduled for tomorrow!! ....but I can't do tomorrow, because J has his chiro app't tomorrow. So I've rescheduled the root canal til next Tuesday, the 21st.
It's so hot today, and supposed to be hotter than hell all the rest of the week, culminating in the upper 90s by Thursday through Sunday. Ugh. I did my walk early this morning, and will be doing so the rest of this week. I do not know how people manage without ac.
This morning we discovered a very strange noise coming from one of the chickens, the Buff Orpington; after doing some research on chicken illnesses (complete with videos on youtube to identify the strange sounds she was making) we learned she most likely has a respiratory illness--it's a continuous wheezing noise, accompanied by a soft cluck. She doesn't seem otherwise affected. Fortunately none of the others are doing this noise. So off we went to the feed store for some antibiotics; J has just mixed it all up in their drinking water, and so all the ladies will be treated. Amazing that you can buy antibiotics for your livestock without a prescription, but you can't buy it for yourself.
Over the weekend J felt better off and on, so he worked on the chicken coop, and finished last night. The new little girls are still sleeping in the kennel, away from the older ladies, but we think the additional roosts in the original coop will take care of the issue. Eventually they will all be sleeping together in the coop. After we get back from Seattle, we'll work on the transition.
My daughter came up Saturday afternoon. J thought I ought to "talk with" her about her recent blog post, where she stated she felt closer to her grandmother than to me, her mother. He was hurt, for me. I had to think about it, but I'm actually not hurt. I feel very secure in our relationship as mother-daughter, and I'm very glad she was able to establish and maintain a strong connection with her grandmother.
It's the same bond I felt with my own grandmother. I don't know if my mom knew I felt closer to her mother than to her, but if you take the ego out of the statement, it's totally understandable: I was/am much more like Gramma than mom. My daughter is much more like my mom, than she is like me. Not to say we aren't alike...just that they understand each other intuitively, the way Gramma intuitively understood me.
I'm sorry S is taking the death so hard. Grief is a harsh lesson. I'm very lucky that I had my own grandmother for 44 years... S had hers for only 22. Another aspect that made it worse for her was that they were in the middle of a disagreement. Both wanted to talk about it, and "make up", but mom died before that resolution could take place. I would be a wreck if Gramma had died in the middle of an issue we hadn't resolved, so I think I can understand some of what S is going through. But then, Gramma and I didn't ever have "issues". Whereas mom had issues at various times with every single person she knew. Quite a different personality.
Anyway, our afternoon was nice, aside from the ongoing grief. We went shoe-shopping for her, and she was able to find a good pair at a decent price. We also had some girl-fun looking for toys/ items for Gabby's upcoming birthday, and for looking for some clothes, and looking at different hair color shades. We then decided to dye our hair, pretty much on the spur of the moment (for me anyway).
I've been pondering if the reason I'm not getting a lot of callbacks for interviews is possibly my age is pretty obvious. So I've done a couple of things to combat that: I deleted the year I graduated from high school; I deleted all the jobs in the 80s despite the fact that they demonstrate skills I've had forever and the fact that almost all jobs I've ever had are in health care; and now I've changed my hair color, to remove the grey. It came out a lot more
Today we picked up the coming year's supply of fresh canned albacore; it's expensive, but oh my is it yummy. Knowing it came from a local dock, and that it's better tasting and better for you than the tuna from the big chain stores makes a huge difference, which is reflected in the price. It's worth it.
It's almost too hot to do anything. But yesterday J and I began the process of re-photographing the various paintings and artwork of mom's, so we can determine if we want to keep or sell. Of course, I'm keeping the various Family history related stuff. But others I either 1) don't feel an attachment to, and 2) don't have room for.
Once these are all photographed, we'll send the photos to our artist friend William, and he can help us with appraisals and with determining financial worth. I will then confer with the Sibs to see if either of them have emotional attachments to anything in particular, and if not, then we can sell.
Taking the photos means being Outside, and then unwrapping each item, measuring it, and photographing it, then numbering it, with a brief description and the artist's name if known. J wants to continue this today. Despite the fact that it's almost 90 outside now. With no wind. True, the wind picks up later in the evening, cooling it off a lot for bedtime. But in the meantime, it's H.O.T.
All I really want to do is lie on the sofa and read...and have a large glass of ice water nearby.
Thursday, August 9, 2012
Thursday
Random bits: my one son in Denver just called! I hadn't heard from him in a looong time, and was beginning to wonder if I should worry. He has re-joined the sales crew (oh no...), and broken up with Yvette. Or the other way around. They were homeless, so in a way it's good they have split up, even if Ja can't find a local job--meaning he has to do the sales crew--arggh. (I hate that choice for him. But at least he has a regular bed, and regular food. It's not my life, not my decision.) Well, I'm just glad to hear from him, anyway. I need to focus on that aspect.
I haven't heard from my other son for awhile either, but he recently posted on facebook that he was now "single" as opposed to being with Shannon. So apparently they have broken up. Other than that, I do not know. It's so strange to not be in the loop.
Yesterday there was a dream job advertised. With the main company here I want to work for, in research. I spent most of the morning re-working a cover letter, having J print out the application , and then asking my sister to help reformat my resume from wordpad to Word. I can't see much difference, but we'll see. (They had requested a resume be submitted in MS Word format.) Fortunately she was delighted to help, and even re-worked my resume so I now have two different versions to use, depending on the job.
It's hard not to get my hopes up---but this is the job I want. How many unemployed, highly experienced research coordinators can there be in this one small town?? Surely I'm one of a very select few to choose from...
Of course, since I'm on Unemployment, I have to be keeping up my job search and recording where I apply...so I had to find other jobs to apply to also. Found two, in addition to the DreamJob. Now I can relax for the rest of the week. I check the various job sites, companies, craigslist, etc daily, but some days there is just nothing listed at all, and other days, like yesterday, there were 3. But in my desired field of research, those are much much fewer and far between. Well, I've applied, and now I let it go.
J is still in pain. He has spent all week walking sideways when he is up, and otherwise lying down, trying various methods to treat the pain. He has a particular chiropractor he sees, but this man has no openings til next week-- J won't see anyone else, and has just been waiting it out. Makes me crazy to see him like this, and he keeps apologizing for being "such a wuss", which makes me even crazier. Poor guy. It's been a low key week, for sure.
Today he decided he would try re-working the existing chicken coop so it'll accommodate the new ladies eventually, rather than building an entire new coop. So he's out there slowly walking bent over, and I have to admire him. I also of course gently scold him for pushing himself, and possibly re-injuring himself in that process, but he is stubborn.
I've found yet another box of papers/envelopes etc of Gramma's; this one was from the mid 90s, and there were all her bank statements, checkbooks and registers, letters from all the charities and causes she supported, receipts for various things---and the biggie, an eight-inch-high stack of letters, from mom. Sigh. All from the mid 80s to late 90s, just before Gramma left FL to move to WA. I resigned myself to skimming through them, and that took a couple of huge chunks of time on Tuesday and yesterday afternoon.
I ended up keeping a couple out of that stack, because they were prime examples of mom. Not that I will forget her writing voice, but I find it amazing that for such a prolific writer, not much is worth saving. So much of the letters were just random stream-of-consciousness stuff, along with complaints about various people, or worry about money. Many pages of discussions about the various animals. (I guess that's what my blog is, too. But at least no one will be forced to go through this stuff when I go--my blog will disappear into cyberspace, somewhere. No one will be stuck keeping it in boxes, or deciding whether to toss or keep.)
I also found a small notebook of Gramma's which on first glance seemed to be just a memo kind of thing; doctor's app'ts, buy liquor, pick up dry cleaning, order such-and-such. Addresses, phone numbers, miscellaneous notes. Then, toward the back of it, was her hand-written notes documenting her first visit to mom's (after she'd moved there in June of 83). Gramma's visit was in August, staying through mid-Sept. The notebook ends before Gramma's visit did, so I don't know the end of the story, but I've learned a lot. I'll have to keep this. Poor Gramma. I might have to send this to my sister.
J and I went and bought 30 lbs of blueberries at the local U-pick place, and packaged and froze them all. So we are stocked up, also with strawberries. We have so much food in the fridge, and also in the freezers that we will be okay for a long time, and will just need to buy milk for J, and food for the animals. Our garden is beginning to produce: of course all the lettuces are gone (thanks to the chickens), but we have enjoyed all the artichokes, and J harvested about 20lbs of potatoes already. We have carrots, peppers, tomatoes, and one lonely stalk of corn out of all the stuff we planted. Weird. Oh, and peas, and all kinds of squashes and melons.
Being on WeightWatchers I am encouraged to focus on veggies and fruit, go easy on the carbs and fat, and have a small amount of protein, daily. So far this is working. I've lost 5 pounds this month, my first. I'm still able to have my small glass or two of wine, and really, nothing is off-limits--I just have to write it down.
Last night I made shrimp curry on a bed of rice, and we had corn on the cob, also. It was all so yummy! The corn I tried in the microwave for the first time, since I'd run out of room on the stove. I simply put two ears, husks and all, in the microwave and blasted it for about 6 minutes. Then I removed them and wrapped them in a kitchen towel for about 4 minutes. Then I unwrapped them, and the husks and silk came right off. That's it--they were ready.
And so far I've managed at least 2 miles daily for my walk, and other days I do 3 or 4, depending on the time of day and how hot it is. It's August 9 already, and in many places school has started. My little granddaughter is not even 5 yet, won't be til next month, but she started kindergarten yesterday! She is definitely ready though-- she is very mature for her age if small, and ready for the small challenges of a classroom. And my other little grand starts pre-school next month, at age 3 1/2. Wow.
J and I are still debating on what to bring to Antiques Roadshow. I think we've decided to bring the mysterious Audubon engraving, and maybe the rocking chair. (They advise being prepared to stand in long lines, so the chair will be helpful if either of us needs to sit down for awhile. Plus we'll learn something of its background.) I also for sure will bring the silver bowl. That leaves space for one more thing. Hmmm.
Okay. Got to hit the road and walk, before it gets too hot. It's after 10 already.
I haven't heard from my other son for awhile either, but he recently posted on facebook that he was now "single" as opposed to being with Shannon. So apparently they have broken up. Other than that, I do not know. It's so strange to not be in the loop.
Yesterday there was a dream job advertised. With the main company here I want to work for, in research. I spent most of the morning re-working a cover letter, having J print out the application , and then asking my sister to help reformat my resume from wordpad to Word. I can't see much difference, but we'll see. (They had requested a resume be submitted in MS Word format.) Fortunately she was delighted to help, and even re-worked my resume so I now have two different versions to use, depending on the job.
It's hard not to get my hopes up---but this is the job I want. How many unemployed, highly experienced research coordinators can there be in this one small town?? Surely I'm one of a very select few to choose from...
Of course, since I'm on Unemployment, I have to be keeping up my job search and recording where I apply...so I had to find other jobs to apply to also. Found two, in addition to the DreamJob. Now I can relax for the rest of the week. I check the various job sites, companies, craigslist, etc daily, but some days there is just nothing listed at all, and other days, like yesterday, there were 3. But in my desired field of research, those are much much fewer and far between. Well, I've applied, and now I let it go.
J is still in pain. He has spent all week walking sideways when he is up, and otherwise lying down, trying various methods to treat the pain. He has a particular chiropractor he sees, but this man has no openings til next week-- J won't see anyone else, and has just been waiting it out. Makes me crazy to see him like this, and he keeps apologizing for being "such a wuss", which makes me even crazier. Poor guy. It's been a low key week, for sure.
Today he decided he would try re-working the existing chicken coop so it'll accommodate the new ladies eventually, rather than building an entire new coop. So he's out there slowly walking bent over, and I have to admire him. I also of course gently scold him for pushing himself, and possibly re-injuring himself in that process, but he is stubborn.
I've found yet another box of papers/envelopes etc of Gramma's; this one was from the mid 90s, and there were all her bank statements, checkbooks and registers, letters from all the charities and causes she supported, receipts for various things---and the biggie, an eight-inch-high stack of letters, from mom. Sigh. All from the mid 80s to late 90s, just before Gramma left FL to move to WA. I resigned myself to skimming through them, and that took a couple of huge chunks of time on Tuesday and yesterday afternoon.
I ended up keeping a couple out of that stack, because they were prime examples of mom. Not that I will forget her writing voice, but I find it amazing that for such a prolific writer, not much is worth saving. So much of the letters were just random stream-of-consciousness stuff, along with complaints about various people, or worry about money. Many pages of discussions about the various animals. (I guess that's what my blog is, too. But at least no one will be forced to go through this stuff when I go--my blog will disappear into cyberspace, somewhere. No one will be stuck keeping it in boxes, or deciding whether to toss or keep.)
I also found a small notebook of Gramma's which on first glance seemed to be just a memo kind of thing; doctor's app'ts, buy liquor, pick up dry cleaning, order such-and-such. Addresses, phone numbers, miscellaneous notes. Then, toward the back of it, was her hand-written notes documenting her first visit to mom's (after she'd moved there in June of 83). Gramma's visit was in August, staying through mid-Sept. The notebook ends before Gramma's visit did, so I don't know the end of the story, but I've learned a lot. I'll have to keep this. Poor Gramma. I might have to send this to my sister.
J and I went and bought 30 lbs of blueberries at the local U-pick place, and packaged and froze them all. So we are stocked up, also with strawberries. We have so much food in the fridge, and also in the freezers that we will be okay for a long time, and will just need to buy milk for J, and food for the animals. Our garden is beginning to produce: of course all the lettuces are gone (thanks to the chickens), but we have enjoyed all the artichokes, and J harvested about 20lbs of potatoes already. We have carrots, peppers, tomatoes, and one lonely stalk of corn out of all the stuff we planted. Weird. Oh, and peas, and all kinds of squashes and melons.
Being on WeightWatchers I am encouraged to focus on veggies and fruit, go easy on the carbs and fat, and have a small amount of protein, daily. So far this is working. I've lost 5 pounds this month, my first. I'm still able to have my small glass or two of wine, and really, nothing is off-limits--I just have to write it down.
Last night I made shrimp curry on a bed of rice, and we had corn on the cob, also. It was all so yummy! The corn I tried in the microwave for the first time, since I'd run out of room on the stove. I simply put two ears, husks and all, in the microwave and blasted it for about 6 minutes. Then I removed them and wrapped them in a kitchen towel for about 4 minutes. Then I unwrapped them, and the husks and silk came right off. That's it--they were ready.
And so far I've managed at least 2 miles daily for my walk, and other days I do 3 or 4, depending on the time of day and how hot it is. It's August 9 already, and in many places school has started. My little granddaughter is not even 5 yet, won't be til next month, but she started kindergarten yesterday! She is definitely ready though-- she is very mature for her age if small, and ready for the small challenges of a classroom. And my other little grand starts pre-school next month, at age 3 1/2. Wow.
J and I are still debating on what to bring to Antiques Roadshow. I think we've decided to bring the mysterious Audubon engraving, and maybe the rocking chair. (They advise being prepared to stand in long lines, so the chair will be helpful if either of us needs to sit down for awhile. Plus we'll learn something of its background.) I also for sure will bring the silver bowl. That leaves space for one more thing. Hmmm.
Okay. Got to hit the road and walk, before it gets too hot. It's after 10 already.
Sunday, August 5, 2012
Sunday
This is going to be a day of rest. I can't remember when I've ever been so utterly drained. Every single day since last Wednesday has been difficult; I've cried more in those 4 days than I have for months.
Wednesday the endodontist appt went just fine--except that the tooth nerve is dead as I feared, and so another root canal is needed after all. It's currently scheduled for a week from Wednesday. I have a prescription for antibiotics, and am to be on them til The Day. I won't even go into how much this will cost me. If there's a cancellation for this Wednesday they'll call me, and off we go to P'land.
Then we left and got back on route 84 to head east and north to mom's arriving about 11:30 that night. I was afraid to face the dark house, but Debbie and Alan left the interior lights on in the hallway and in the kitchen, and the outside flood lights. How sensitive of them...
And MY GOD: what a huge job they did. The house was almost completely empty--no bookshelves, just a few chairs, no books. Everything we left that last Wednesday was in 14 boxes stacked on the shelves in the front hall-- 6 electric heaters, the microwave, towels, pictures, kitchen items, and I don't know what else; then 40 boxes of books alone are at their house. (S went through them Friday and came back home with just a few.)
Alan had also completely mowed and weed-eated; carted away all the trash, tools, pine cones, wood (all that wood is gone-- every bit), from the driveway going around the house to the back and up to the barns. The place looks just amazing. For the first time ever, with the emptiness and the neatness and the simplicity, I could see why mom loved it. It was so peaceful, so clear, so pretty.
We walked around just gaping. The horrendous pall of cigarette smoke was unfortunately still there. The smell about knocked me over. There was food in the fridge and freezer thank god, so we just unloaded our personal items, and fell into the beds which were still made up, thank god again.
J was up at around 6am Thursday, getting the painting ready, and (after returning from meeting the lawyer and picking up the truck) we did that all day; painted living room, kitchen, and front hallway, and discovered it would need two coats. So after the first coat we kind of had time to sit, and then A&D came over and helped until 5:30. We removed all the rugs and carpeting except what was in the living room, and that did help with the smell.
We'd had to rent a truck again because in a flurry of last minute emails the day we left home I learned that Gramma's blue furniture set was definitely wanted by some cousins. So we agreed to bring it down to our house, and from there the cousins will have to arrange to have it picked up and shipped. I'm glad it'll stay in the family.
I got directions to the lawyer's office (which were unnecessarily convoluted thanks to mapquest), and it put us within 5 blocks of where we picked up the van, same as last time. TYG again.
The lawyer didn't charge us, just reviewed our case, the notice of the lien, and gave us our options, and spent about 20 minutes with us all together. He's available in case we do need him, but he doesn't think we'll need his services. Nice guy. I'm relieved to know this'll be a fairly simple process, selling the house and land.
We then picked up the van, and we were back at the house by 11:30, starting in with the painting. S had already started, and had even seen a bear!! Not far from the house, it was munching in mom's neglected garden. Sigh. I've always wanted to see bears in the wild...
We had frozen tv dinners for dinner--not bad-- we were hungry and tired and didn't care what we ate. Then we painted again til about 8, when it was too dark to see clearly. . Each of us was sore and achy, and S and I had been in tears off and on all day. We were drained. Even so, S and I walked the dog down to the neighbor's where the setters are kenneled, and back. Saw lots of chipmunks. We'd seen a fox the night before, along with an owl, sitting in the road. We were both hoping to see the bear again. We fell into bed after showers, and slept fitfully.
J was up again at the crack of dawn Friday morning, working on painting that second coat. I joined him around 7, and we got it all done with S's help around noon, at which point we began cleaning up for the realtor. S drove over to Debbie's to look over the books, and then also to the Ford store to tell Janet about the ashes-scattering.
Michael B (the realtor) was a bit late, but we liked him; he carefully explained how and what he'd be doing, we signed the papers, and then J and he toured the house and land so Michael could take up-to-date photos. He was just stunned by the changes made in the place since he'd last been there with Alan. His impression of the place jumped quite a bit. He was very impressed with how much we'd gotten done just since we'd been there, and also how much Alan had done. (Alan later presented the bill for his hours to us, and holy cow I don't know how we will do this.)
He left around 4. Then we had to sit and recover and discuss. It was so hot, and we were sweaty, and tired, and yet we also needed to start loading the truck. J and I and S moved all the blue furniture, Gramma's blue rocker, and most of the boxes into the van. We had just sat down out back in the shade, with some wine for me, and there was a shout out from the front of the house.
Ken came in; he was one of mom's dearest friends, and the one I hadn't ever met. Then Alan and Debbie arrived. Then a man named Michael (another Michael!). This one was the person who Alan had recommended to mom for when he, Alan, couldn't get to mom's to help with the goats and chores. J had met him before, but I hadn't. And finally Janet arrived.
Slowly we made our way up to the spot near the cabin where mom had wanted the ashes scattered. People walked in twos and threes, J carrying the box with the ashes. It was hot, windy, sunny, quiet. J placed the box on the flattened rock, and we all stood around it in a circle. I'd been in tears since the walk began, and had barely enough ability to say that I really didn't know what to say. I asked everyone to take a handful and say a few words, and then scatter them. And that's exactly what happened.
One by one each person would share a few memories and then take a handful out of the bag, and slowly walk to the side of the flat rock, opening their hands to let the ashes fly. I think Janet touched me the most: she was also weeping, and walked up to the bag, picked up a handful and started speaking a most beautiful language. They were Native American words, and just flowed from her lips as she wept, tossing the ashes up in the wind; throwing her head up to the sky, her voice rising and falling. I understood the name Helena a few times, and nothing else. Then she came back to the circle, and bowed her head. Each person in turn did the same. I have no memory of what I said, other than wanting to acknowledge and respect that there were many people right now thinking of us, and of her, and sharing this time with us.
When we were all done, we stood there in silence. J looked at me, and I nodded. He took the rest of the bag, walked to the open area and slowly sprinkled the rest handful by handful in the wind, turning as he lifted his hand, and saying prayers. I think I also heard him say, "You never wanted to leave this hill, and now you don't have to..."
When the bag was empty, we all gave each other hugs, and I thanked each person for being there. We filed back to the driveway in front of the house and broke into little groups talking and remembering. I was surprised no one wanted to come inside and see the house one more time, but maybe it was because it so clearly was empty of mom's spirit.
People left, and finally it was just Alan and Debbie. Earlier, something strange had happened. We had been outside in the back waiting for the others to arrive, and Debbie reached over and placed a small ring box in my hand, hurriedly saying she'd found this among the books as she was packing them, and thought I might like to have it. I opened it, and there was a ring I'd remembered seeing a few months ago, but honestly hadn't missed it in our division of jewelry. But now, seeing it, I very clearly remembered it, because it was not at all mom's taste, and I'd wondered where she gotten it. She wasn't able to remember, so it'll always be a mystery. It's gold, in a kind of modern setting, with tiny opals, and tiny diamonds. Debbie kept talking about it, and saying over and over, I thought you might like it, I knew you'd appreciate having something of your mom's. Especially on this day, I knew you'd like it.
I put it on, and was so overcome with memories and sadness that I couldn't think clearly. Of course I thanked her, profusely.
But later, I had to wonder. That ring was not at all in the bookcase, ever. Where did she really "find it", I wonder. And I had to wonder if that was a guilty conscience I heard. It's an awful feeling to wonder if someone hasn't been as trustworthy as you thought they were.
And sadly, it makes me wonder if this explains the mystery of the missing aquamarines.
For whatever reason, I'm glad she returned it. I'm glad to have it.
Well. After everyone had left for the last time, J opened the champagne and we toasted mom, and a very hardworking group--us. S made us a yummy dinner of the last of the frozen ravioli, and the rest of the Lima beans. We had no plates, so we all sat outside and ate out of the big frying pan, and shared the beans straight from the pot they'd been cooked in. We had fruit for dessert, and S had bought popsicles for she and J to share. S didn't care for the champagne, and so I think I actually drank most of the bottle before we went to bed. (I like champagne, but it gives me a bad dry mouth. No hangover or headache, but wow, was I thirsty.)
I went for a brief walk again after cleaning up, and once more found myself weeping for about the 80th time that day. I felt good about what we'd done, and proud of how well this had all gone. I was ready to go home, and also sad. We slept that last night in mom's house, in the blue beds, and it felt final.
None of us slept well, oddly. S felt nauseated and coughed a lot; J was restless with bad dreams and frequent nighttime rising; and I had some of the weirdest and frightening nightmares I've ever had.
Saturday morning S packed up the food in the fridge and freezer, and J and I loaded the truck with the beds and the wagon wheels, and somehow he twisted his back. He is even now, Sunday afternoon, walking bent over with pain. But we got through the day of driving home. We got home around 6:30. We unloaded just our personal things, and then S stayed to have some pizza with us before she left.
We walked around the place to check on things. J's youngest son had stayed here for a few nights and everything looked pretty good. But it had been 95 degrees that day, and the water bowls outside were dry, and the chickens had found a way into the garden and eaten all the lettuces. Argggh!!
Still, all animals and chickens are okay. J got a hot hot tub bath to soak his pain in, and we both checked our emails and facebook before crashing.
This morning Sunday, early, we unloaded the van, and returned it; picked up my antibiotics prescription and some groceries. I walked the dog despite the heat, and when I got back J gave him a bath. I've cleaned house and done laundry, while J sits in a chair and tries not to complain. Poor guy...
I still have to figure finances, and check on bank balances, and later this week I'll start sorting through the boxes we brought back. We need to get some cash coming in, so I think we'll also look at some of the paintings and artwork we brought back, to see what we can sell. This trip just put us at our limit-- we cannot spend any more, as we've reached those cc limits. I'm going through my usual post-travel finance freak-out, so part of me knows I'll relax soon, and the other part of me is panicking anyway. Sigh.
I'm also remembering that ForSale sign at the entrance to mom's place. S took a photo of it for me. For posterity. It's sad, as I know I won't be going up again. I'm relieved, but let's face it, that was a huge and complicated part of my life. It'll take me a long time to process this trip.
I'm so glad to be home.
Wednesday the endodontist appt went just fine--except that the tooth nerve is dead as I feared, and so another root canal is needed after all. It's currently scheduled for a week from Wednesday. I have a prescription for antibiotics, and am to be on them til The Day. I won't even go into how much this will cost me. If there's a cancellation for this Wednesday they'll call me, and off we go to P'land.
Then we left and got back on route 84 to head east and north to mom's arriving about 11:30 that night. I was afraid to face the dark house, but Debbie and Alan left the interior lights on in the hallway and in the kitchen, and the outside flood lights. How sensitive of them...
And MY GOD: what a huge job they did. The house was almost completely empty--no bookshelves, just a few chairs, no books. Everything we left that last Wednesday was in 14 boxes stacked on the shelves in the front hall-- 6 electric heaters, the microwave, towels, pictures, kitchen items, and I don't know what else; then 40 boxes of books alone are at their house. (S went through them Friday and came back home with just a few.)
Alan had also completely mowed and weed-eated; carted away all the trash, tools, pine cones, wood (all that wood is gone-- every bit), from the driveway going around the house to the back and up to the barns. The place looks just amazing. For the first time ever, with the emptiness and the neatness and the simplicity, I could see why mom loved it. It was so peaceful, so clear, so pretty.
We walked around just gaping. The horrendous pall of cigarette smoke was unfortunately still there. The smell about knocked me over. There was food in the fridge and freezer thank god, so we just unloaded our personal items, and fell into the beds which were still made up, thank god again.
J was up at around 6am Thursday, getting the painting ready, and (after returning from meeting the lawyer and picking up the truck) we did that all day; painted living room, kitchen, and front hallway, and discovered it would need two coats. So after the first coat we kind of had time to sit, and then A&D came over and helped until 5:30. We removed all the rugs and carpeting except what was in the living room, and that did help with the smell.
We'd had to rent a truck again because in a flurry of last minute emails the day we left home I learned that Gramma's blue furniture set was definitely wanted by some cousins. So we agreed to bring it down to our house, and from there the cousins will have to arrange to have it picked up and shipped. I'm glad it'll stay in the family.
I got directions to the lawyer's office (which were unnecessarily convoluted thanks to mapquest), and it put us within 5 blocks of where we picked up the van, same as last time. TYG again.
The lawyer didn't charge us, just reviewed our case, the notice of the lien, and gave us our options, and spent about 20 minutes with us all together. He's available in case we do need him, but he doesn't think we'll need his services. Nice guy. I'm relieved to know this'll be a fairly simple process, selling the house and land.
We then picked up the van, and we were back at the house by 11:30, starting in with the painting. S had already started, and had even seen a bear!! Not far from the house, it was munching in mom's neglected garden. Sigh. I've always wanted to see bears in the wild...
We had frozen tv dinners for dinner--not bad-- we were hungry and tired and didn't care what we ate. Then we painted again til about 8, when it was too dark to see clearly. . Each of us was sore and achy, and S and I had been in tears off and on all day. We were drained. Even so, S and I walked the dog down to the neighbor's where the setters are kenneled, and back. Saw lots of chipmunks. We'd seen a fox the night before, along with an owl, sitting in the road. We were both hoping to see the bear again. We fell into bed after showers, and slept fitfully.
J was up again at the crack of dawn Friday morning, working on painting that second coat. I joined him around 7, and we got it all done with S's help around noon, at which point we began cleaning up for the realtor. S drove over to Debbie's to look over the books, and then also to the Ford store to tell Janet about the ashes-scattering.
Michael B (the realtor) was a bit late, but we liked him; he carefully explained how and what he'd be doing, we signed the papers, and then J and he toured the house and land so Michael could take up-to-date photos. He was just stunned by the changes made in the place since he'd last been there with Alan. His impression of the place jumped quite a bit. He was very impressed with how much we'd gotten done just since we'd been there, and also how much Alan had done. (Alan later presented the bill for his hours to us, and holy cow I don't know how we will do this.)
He left around 4. Then we had to sit and recover and discuss. It was so hot, and we were sweaty, and tired, and yet we also needed to start loading the truck. J and I and S moved all the blue furniture, Gramma's blue rocker, and most of the boxes into the van. We had just sat down out back in the shade, with some wine for me, and there was a shout out from the front of the house.
Ken came in; he was one of mom's dearest friends, and the one I hadn't ever met. Then Alan and Debbie arrived. Then a man named Michael (another Michael!). This one was the person who Alan had recommended to mom for when he, Alan, couldn't get to mom's to help with the goats and chores. J had met him before, but I hadn't. And finally Janet arrived.
Slowly we made our way up to the spot near the cabin where mom had wanted the ashes scattered. People walked in twos and threes, J carrying the box with the ashes. It was hot, windy, sunny, quiet. J placed the box on the flattened rock, and we all stood around it in a circle. I'd been in tears since the walk began, and had barely enough ability to say that I really didn't know what to say. I asked everyone to take a handful and say a few words, and then scatter them. And that's exactly what happened.
One by one each person would share a few memories and then take a handful out of the bag, and slowly walk to the side of the flat rock, opening their hands to let the ashes fly. I think Janet touched me the most: she was also weeping, and walked up to the bag, picked up a handful and started speaking a most beautiful language. They were Native American words, and just flowed from her lips as she wept, tossing the ashes up in the wind; throwing her head up to the sky, her voice rising and falling. I understood the name Helena a few times, and nothing else. Then she came back to the circle, and bowed her head. Each person in turn did the same. I have no memory of what I said, other than wanting to acknowledge and respect that there were many people right now thinking of us, and of her, and sharing this time with us.
When we were all done, we stood there in silence. J looked at me, and I nodded. He took the rest of the bag, walked to the open area and slowly sprinkled the rest handful by handful in the wind, turning as he lifted his hand, and saying prayers. I think I also heard him say, "You never wanted to leave this hill, and now you don't have to..."
When the bag was empty, we all gave each other hugs, and I thanked each person for being there. We filed back to the driveway in front of the house and broke into little groups talking and remembering. I was surprised no one wanted to come inside and see the house one more time, but maybe it was because it so clearly was empty of mom's spirit.
People left, and finally it was just Alan and Debbie. Earlier, something strange had happened. We had been outside in the back waiting for the others to arrive, and Debbie reached over and placed a small ring box in my hand, hurriedly saying she'd found this among the books as she was packing them, and thought I might like to have it. I opened it, and there was a ring I'd remembered seeing a few months ago, but honestly hadn't missed it in our division of jewelry. But now, seeing it, I very clearly remembered it, because it was not at all mom's taste, and I'd wondered where she gotten it. She wasn't able to remember, so it'll always be a mystery. It's gold, in a kind of modern setting, with tiny opals, and tiny diamonds. Debbie kept talking about it, and saying over and over, I thought you might like it, I knew you'd appreciate having something of your mom's. Especially on this day, I knew you'd like it.
I put it on, and was so overcome with memories and sadness that I couldn't think clearly. Of course I thanked her, profusely.
But later, I had to wonder. That ring was not at all in the bookcase, ever. Where did she really "find it", I wonder. And I had to wonder if that was a guilty conscience I heard. It's an awful feeling to wonder if someone hasn't been as trustworthy as you thought they were.
And sadly, it makes me wonder if this explains the mystery of the missing aquamarines.
For whatever reason, I'm glad she returned it. I'm glad to have it.
Well. After everyone had left for the last time, J opened the champagne and we toasted mom, and a very hardworking group--us. S made us a yummy dinner of the last of the frozen ravioli, and the rest of the Lima beans. We had no plates, so we all sat outside and ate out of the big frying pan, and shared the beans straight from the pot they'd been cooked in. We had fruit for dessert, and S had bought popsicles for she and J to share. S didn't care for the champagne, and so I think I actually drank most of the bottle before we went to bed. (I like champagne, but it gives me a bad dry mouth. No hangover or headache, but wow, was I thirsty.)
I went for a brief walk again after cleaning up, and once more found myself weeping for about the 80th time that day. I felt good about what we'd done, and proud of how well this had all gone. I was ready to go home, and also sad. We slept that last night in mom's house, in the blue beds, and it felt final.
None of us slept well, oddly. S felt nauseated and coughed a lot; J was restless with bad dreams and frequent nighttime rising; and I had some of the weirdest and frightening nightmares I've ever had.
Saturday morning S packed up the food in the fridge and freezer, and J and I loaded the truck with the beds and the wagon wheels, and somehow he twisted his back. He is even now, Sunday afternoon, walking bent over with pain. But we got through the day of driving home. We got home around 6:30. We unloaded just our personal things, and then S stayed to have some pizza with us before she left.
We walked around the place to check on things. J's youngest son had stayed here for a few nights and everything looked pretty good. But it had been 95 degrees that day, and the water bowls outside were dry, and the chickens had found a way into the garden and eaten all the lettuces. Argggh!!
Still, all animals and chickens are okay. J got a hot hot tub bath to soak his pain in, and we both checked our emails and facebook before crashing.
This morning Sunday, early, we unloaded the van, and returned it; picked up my antibiotics prescription and some groceries. I walked the dog despite the heat, and when I got back J gave him a bath. I've cleaned house and done laundry, while J sits in a chair and tries not to complain. Poor guy...
I still have to figure finances, and check on bank balances, and later this week I'll start sorting through the boxes we brought back. We need to get some cash coming in, so I think we'll also look at some of the paintings and artwork we brought back, to see what we can sell. This trip just put us at our limit-- we cannot spend any more, as we've reached those cc limits. I'm going through my usual post-travel finance freak-out, so part of me knows I'll relax soon, and the other part of me is panicking anyway. Sigh.
I'm also remembering that ForSale sign at the entrance to mom's place. S took a photo of it for me. For posterity. It's sad, as I know I won't be going up again. I'm relieved, but let's face it, that was a huge and complicated part of my life. It'll take me a long time to process this trip.
I'm so glad to be home.
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