Count Down

 

The pod arrived on Friday, but not until after 4:30 pm. By then Ken was home and as I suspected he rushed out and was doing his "man of the house" routine. The woman who delivered the pod told me that the door to the pod could be placed to face either direction. But Ken jumped in with "put it here", mainly because he didn't want to have to move his van. As a result, the door to the pod is facing away from the gate and we have to walk up a small incline. Even though I spoke up and requested the door face the gate, no, she listened to Mr. Bossman. I have to work harder to keep from emasculating a guy. I remember it with every heavy box I have been carrying up that incline. I was so furious with my brother, and I let him know it. Then I went to my room, smoked almost a whole joint by myself and went to sleep without making him dinner. Having gone to bed at 5:30 pm, I woke up at 2:00 am. The headache that I had brewed the day before was still with me and I was grumpy with the frustration that I have been feeling.

Karen is the only one of us who has actually been inside the house. Her description of the floorplan is that you walk into the house and into the main hall. on either side of the hall are two of the bedrooms, the kitchen and the living room. In the middle of the hall is a small staircase that goes up to a landing where the bathroom is, then goes to the back of the house and staircase that leads to my area upstairs. The only problem is that looking at the pictures I have, there is just no way that is a three-story house. And it isn't the style that lends itself to being a split level. Anytime I show her the pictures and ask for an explanation of what I'm seeing, she says she can't explain it, and I will just have to wait and see. That too has been a source of irritation to me. It's not just that she can't tell me anything about the floor plan, but she says she didn't pay attention to things like closets and pantries. What she saw as the porch, and that is all she apparently needed to know.

I used my early morning hours looking at the few pictures I have trying to figure out what exactly I can expect. And to my amazement I did actually come up with a reasonable deduction of what is there. The revelation started with a picture of the back of the house. I noticed that the shades are up in the upper left window. And in that window is a can of some sort. I was able to locate that window from the pictures I have of my area inside. It is the window that you face as you come up the stairs to my landing. It accounts for one the dormer windows. There is a picture of the bathroom where that window is showing in the mirror above the vanity and sinks. The other two dormer windows are in my bedroom and bonus room.

Coming up the stairs to my area, there is a rather large landing. Karen says that it is large enough for a small seating area. The window that you see is the one that I noticed the can sitting in. For the window to be in the mirror in the bathroom it has to be the door opposite it, it's kind of hard to see. The door on the left with a window showing is the larger of my two rooms. Karen can't really give me an idea of how large it is. But it has it's own mini split. There is a second one in the landing. and all of the rooms have ceiling fans. There are also closets in both of my rooms and a large linen closet in the bathroom. But the bedroom closets seem like they may be on the small side. From what I can tell from the pictures I have; the smaller closet may be close to the size of the closet that I currently use. The other room, the closet may be the size that you see in a child's bedroom. It will be more storage space than I have had for a while. I'm really kind of excited about this now.

After being up several hours figuring all this out I decided to take a nap and get up Saturday morning ready to go fresh. I woke up around 9:30 am. Karen was sitting in the living room playing games on her cell phone. Ken was in his room watching YouTube. I went out to the pod to see what we had to work with. It is 16 feet long, which is way more than I can imagine that we will use as we do not plan to take a majority of our furniture. Inside the pod are handles that can be used to tie the boxes in place so they don't slip around the unit during transit. I hadn't thought about that, so as much as I didn't want to spend money and especially at the big box store that I went too. But I needed to get things so we can get this show on the road...literally. When I got home, Karen and Ken had not moved from the locations they were in when I left. My frustrations began to flourish again. 

They are coming on Friday to pick the pod up and ship it. I am more than willing to bet that it won't be 4:30 in the afternoon. Probably more like 8:00 am. So, we need to have it packed and ready to go by Thursday night. There is nothing that I can do to motivate Karen and Ken. They are making their own decisions here. I have decided that all I can do is make sure that my things are in the pod. Karen and I already had around 30 boxes packed and stacked up in the living room. I grabbed a travel dolly that I had taking up space in my bedroom and started hauling boxes out to the pod. My plan was to take the larger and heavier boxes first. Then add a layer of larger lightweight boxes and then stacking the smaller boxes on top of them, doing one row at a time so we don't have to reach over a row of boxes to stack the pod to the ceiling. We have space, but we won't if we waste it. Karen wouldn't even stop to listen to my plan. She had three rows deep before we were even stacked halfway up. I kept having to rearrange it. 

I was exhausted to the point of physically shaking by the time we got all the boxes in the pod. When we came back into the house, Ken was pulling on his shoes and asked if he could help us load. For the three and a half hours that we were loading and arranging the pod, he sat in his bedroom watching YouTube, and as soon as we were done, he decided he should be helping.

When I got up this morning, it was Ground Hog's Day all over again. Karen was sitting on the couch playing games on her cell phone and Ken was in his bedroom watching YouTube. The only difference was that Ken had gone out and brought me home two egg McMuffins. I looked around and decided that it's time to get down to the suitcase that I will be taking with me on the trip across the country. I had told myself that it would be fine to leave my bookcases intact. At first, I wasn't going to take them. They are cheap Ikea knockoffs. But when I was in the big box store, I noticed that they are more than what I paid for them three years ago when I bought them. And with the clown we have running the country, who knows how much more they will cost next week. 

Last night I thought leaving the shelves constructed would be fine. But why? Even with plenty of space, it will fill up fast if we all do things like that. So, I deconstructed them and my desk. Then I went through my clothes and packed everything I know for sure I won't be taking in my suitcase for the trip. I need to do laundry before I can finish this task. And I couldn't, because as soon as I started taking my furniture apart, Karen got up an started doing her laundry. I will do mine tomorrow and work out just what I plan on taking with me. Everything else will be packed and taken out to the pod. My hope is to be living out of my suitcase tomorrow night, and if not, at least by Tuesday night. 

Karen's last day at work is Tuesday. I honestly do not know if Ken has even put in notice that he's leaving. It's important that he contacts Social Security. But I dare not even broach the subject with him. He knows this, but he is being a dick about it. I'm going to do my thing and let him FAFO. It would be nice if we could sit down like adults and have a constructive discussion about what the timetables are and what needs to happen. But no, that can't happen when people turn stubborn and refuse to do their part. 

Realistically, the communication has not been stellar. Karen insisted that she has the planning under control. When I'd ask for information that I needed, like "What's the target move date?" and "When is the pod coming?" or "Do we have junkers coming to take refuse away?" I was more likely to get a "Don't worry about it, everything is taken care of." Only it isn't very well planned. Nora is coming to help us pack on Thursday night. The pod will be gone the next morning. 

My frustration at this point is boundless. All I can really do is make sure that I have done what I need for myself. I know that by this time next month, I will be complaining because I won't be able to find all my stuff and I wish I'd labeled the boxes better. I hope that we will all be settling into our new home.

Patiently Waiting...

It's morning. I'm not usually up in the morning. Being a lifelong night owl, I prefer to rise closer to noon, though I do actually like mornings. One of my favorite memories of my college years was sitting in the cafeteria having tea and watching the sun rise over the ocean. Even then, I was not a morning person. I would be there after working nights cleaning the floors at the hotels and country clubs of Miami. It's crazy how memory works, isn't it? I often forget why I walked into a room, if I seasoned the chicken before I put it into the oven, or if I turned the fireplace off before I left the house. But I can completely immerse myself into a memory that is 45 years old, even to the extent of feeling the calmness that the ocean caused in me, seeing the crumbs and half eaten muffin on the plate and tasting the warm sweetness of my morning tea. Even the mild pain the rising sun caused my eyes. But ask me where I put my hairbrush this morning, that is a trick question.

I am up this morning waiting for the moving pod to arrive. Boxes are piled high in the living room and my bedroom. We will have one week to fill the pod with all of our earthly treasure to be moved south, and it is late. We were told that it would arrive between 8:00 and 10:00, and if it had, Karen would be here to greet it. Instead, I am patiently waiting for it with the bank card, a gift from our other sister, Brenda. Time is slipping by, and I am getting less patient with the passing. 

I was hoping that it would in the least get here before Ken would arrive home from work. If he is here when it arrives, he will take over, and most likely have them place it in the most inconvenient place just for spite. 

 Ken is becoming a thorn in our side. We have been talking this move for more than a year and a half. In 2024 our slumlord raised our rent by a third. We saw the handwriting on the wall then. It is just too expensive to live here anymore. We held out, hoping for a better outcome for the election, and the possibility of a better economy for the working class. But then November 5 happened. Now it is urgent that we get ourselves to a place where we can live comfortably within meager means. 

While we discussed moving "home" as possibility, Ken was all for it. Often sitting and talking with us as we searched online sites for places we might rent. He helped set the budget for how much we feel comfortable spending on housing and making the wish list for things we fell are desirable in our new abode. We made a plan that he and Nora would fly across the country with the animals, and Karen and I would drive the one vehicle that will survive the trip. He was good with that. He's flown with animals before. But when Karen found the house and the move date became firm, he became downright passive aggressive regarding the whole thing. He hasn't packed. He is insisting that he take the animals across the country in his van, an idea that has so many obvious obstacles it makes me want to smack him upside his head and scream "Sure! What could possibly go wrong?" 

His van is in rough shape. It won't make it across the state, much less the country. The dog is a runner. If he escapes the van, he will run off and be gone. And we have no guarantee that we would be able to find him. The same for the cats. If they escape, we have done them a horrible disservice. He has not packed anything, though he is quick to declare that ALL of his tools must go with him. Karen and I are both sacrificing furniture and belongings that we would otherwise keep with us. But he feels fine insisting that he keeps all of his belongings. I suppose that Karen and I will have to pack for him. As far as I am concerned, if I have to pack his things, I decide what he takes and what gets left. If he wants a say in that, he'd better get busy because he has a week to pack. 

Karen has gone to a farewell lunch that we both were invited too. We were told that it was to be on Saturday, but last night Margaret called to inform us that it would be today. One of the other attendees has a conflict with Saturday, and her needs must be considered first. So, even though we have the arrival of the pod to attend too, we must change our plans. That is how it always is with this group. It's not that I feel the world should revolve around our plans, but the party is for us. Shouldn't our needs have been the deciding factor? Nevertheless, I am staying home to await the pod. I doubt it will even occur to them that maybe Katie should have changed her plans or just not come. 

The noon hour has come and gone. Ken will be home any minute and the pod is still not here. My frustration and annoyance have hit a peak. I would love to go walk it off, but I am here waiting for the pod. 

Minutiae

The tiny bits and pieces seem to be everywhere. They are in every drawer, every Knick knack dish. Just when I think I have it all, I find more. I could spend hours sorting through it or throw it all in a jar and take it with...better yet just toss it and likely never miss it. Is that battery any good? Do I really want to stick my hand into a jar of thumb tacks and tiny brads? 

Karen spent the day sitting on the couch and building boxes. She has a few that are half filled. She told me that she is nearly through with the kitchen. But the drawers and cabinets are still full. She says we aren't taking that with us. But we still need to pack it up to take it to the charity shop. We have three lined up to take it. What they don't want to take we will leave at Goodwill. 

Ken spent the day watching television in his room. It makes me wonder if he doesn't really want to move and is in denial. 

I cleared my closet and bookshelves today. My desk and chest of drawers are more than half done and will be finished tomorrow. I will be done with my part. I have offered my help to Karen, and she was enthusiastic about it. I find my room sad now. But I am looking forward to my new rooms. 

In the new house, there is a back staircase that leads to my area. I will have a large landing where a sitting room can be set up, my bedroom and a bonus room that I will use for crafts. Karen tells me that both rooms are small, but the area is spacious. I am donating or throwing away as much as I am packing. I am not worried about having enough space. 

We will be outside of town, and up on a mountain. The property is six acres, mostly wooded. My cousin has a house there and there is another house where a family lives. Besides them, There are no near neighbors. The town is about five miles away. It has Karen a little freaked out, but it is only a little farther than the distance I travelled to the grocery store in the community I lived in Georgia. She will get used to it quickly. Especially since there is very little traffic there.

I am looking forward to the quietness, and the darkness at night. It will be nice to be able to see the stars.

Countdown

We have three more weeks here. I have been saying a month for a while and it hit me today that time has passed. We have three weeks to pack up this house and move. I don't think Karen and Ken have given notice where they work. I am only half packed and I have considerably less than either of them. My goal is to finish my room this weekend and try to help them. I can at least pack while they sort, but they have to be here to sort.

I bought a map book and decided on our route across the country. Karen finally listened to me about it last night. We are in agreement. The most direct path also is one of the most scenic. 

Maybe this weekend will get everyone going. We are not young anymore. And we don't have the luxuary of time anymore. 

All I can do is get my part done and offer my help with theirs. 

What's the worst that could happen?

Potluck

A half bag of frozen hamburger patties, a couple of chicken breasts, a half bag of broccoli florets, a half bag of California mix, I'm using up the bits and pieces of food that we have tucked in the back of the freezers. Then there are the leftovers from the meals I made with the ingredients above. Dinner tonight looked like a potluck dinner and served on the leftover plates from Thanksgiving. 

I went through the bits and pieces drawer in my room. I packed what I'm keeping but won't need in the next little while. All that is left in the drawer are the things that I need in the next month. I did the same thing with my cosmetics drawer. Those were the two mental roadblocks to packing for me. I was hoping that would give me the umph that I need to start plowing through with the rest of it. I haven't even been here a full six years. I wonder how I accumulated so much stuff.

Karen has a lifetime of things to go through. Ken is in denial and hasn't even started packing yet. It feels like a Herculean feat for three old people to be undertaking. Moving at our age. 

Homeward Bound

 

It's been awhile...

I miss blogging...

I still think blog posts in my head, but they don't end up here...

Blogger doesn't make it easy to blog using an iPad. They don't seem to like Apple users...

And the internet around here is no better than a joke... We spend a lot of time buffering...

Reasons, or excuses? But it's all I have.

The year did not end well. We spent the spring and summer enjoying parties, concerts, ball games, graduations, and art shows. The fall was marked by loss, and sadness. The good loss was of the presence of Nora. After graduating in the spring, she is seeking her master's at the University of Hawaii, and she is loving it. We miss her but are so happy that she is finding her path.

Just before she left, her cat died. A month later Max left us. He'd been sick for a while. Still, his death sent a shock through everyone. His personality set the tone for the household. The loss of his presence is felt. 

Bad news comes in threes. So, a month later the worst loss happened. Our aunt died. Like Max, it was not unexpected but was a gut punch anyway.  She had been living with the early stages of dementia for years. Just before Thanksgiving she developed a kidney infection and died in her sleep while it was being treated. She was one of the YaYa sisterhood that formed our early lives. My mother, her two sisters and a sister-in-law were the village in which we were raised. Her loss leaves our Aunt Joan as the last living sibling in that family. As much as we are grieving, she is devastated. 

And then there was Nov. 5th....

Before the holidays could greet our sorrow and loss we got one more gut punch. Mollie called to tell me that George was at the end of his journey. He'd been a wonderful dog to her, more of a child than a pet. Like Max, the loss of his presence is felt in everything. She asked that I go to Chicago to spend Christmas with her. I could not say no. I went, but with all the sadness and loss it was a joyless holiday. 

It wasn't just Mollie and I who seemed sad and grieving. Everyone seemed to be dealing with loses of their own. Everybody was going through the motions, but nobody's heart seemed to be in it. 

I took the Empire Builder home on December 30th which had me traveling through the New Year. I was feeling a bit off when I got on the train. In the two days I was on it, I came down hard with the flu despite having gotten the shot. By the time I arrived in Seattle, I was in bad shape. I was down for the better part of January. 

The New Year did not start well...

I was pretty much still bed bound when one of our cousins called. Aunt Joan was doing poorly, and it was felt that she was giving up. Our cousin asked if we could come help out. Even though it meant being in Alabama on inauguration day, Karen went. I don't know if it was Karen's visit or just having the family circle around her cheered Aunt Joan up a bit. She has been doing well since then.

We have been talking about moving back to the south rather euphemistically for about two years. We need to help the cousins out with their aging parents...yada, yada, yada...But the truth is that the PNW has become too expensive to live in on Social Security and pensions. With one of our aunts passing away and another needing encouragement to continue, we are feeling the need all the more. But Karen and Ken have been finding excuses to stay. The truth is that choosing to retire is scary, especially when you don't have a nest egg to fall back on. And they don't even have viable pensions. While Karen was in Alabama she talked about our plans. Our cousins are apparently enthusiastic about them. One cousin, John has a house on his property that he needs to rent. It hits everything on our wish list for housing and more. Other cousins have offered cars and furniture to make our joining them more doable. It turns out that we are moving the middle of next month. Our rent will be $1500 less than it is here. Utilities are about a third of what we are paying, and groceries are substantially less. 

Hopefully this will be a turning point for us. In the least, Karen and Ken can afford to retire. As long as we are together, maybe we can weather the coming storm.

Oh, The Difference a Year Makes

Almost a year ago I wrote my last post. It was about Trump being indicted. I doubt that it was the first indictment, but it was one of them. At the time I felt like it was too little too late, and while I was glad that the DOJ was doing something, I didn't expect it to come to much. And most of his indictments still may not. But wowser! Unanimous verdict, guilty on all counts.

I didn't expect justice to be served on this case. For what we knew, the case was about DJT committing adultery, sleeping with a porn star. I actually don't really care who he sleeps with. And really, who didn't know that he was prone to cheating on his wives. Does anyone really believe that Melania was surprised by it? And why on earth would he do it? I talked to those MAGA housewives after Access Hollywood. Those good Christian women said that God forgave DJT, so I should too. They didn't want to hear that DJT was a scumbag. Of course I knew that Michael Cohen went to jail, but it was for tax evasion or something to do with the Mueller investigation, or any one of a million points of chaos that was part of the Trump administration. 

And now I am left with a disdainful anger at the whole situation. And to be realistic about it, my contempt does nothing. I'm angry because now I understand the depravity that stole the election from Hillary Clinton, and the underbelly of audacity it takes to turn around and accuse others of stealing even a vote from him. And he did it with a rape... Is that characterization of it too harsh? No, I don't think so. When you can't say no, you can't consent. 

Of course I'm aware that the actual conviction wasn't for sleeping with (or raping) a young woman who works in the sex trade. It was for the crimes he committed when he tried to cover it up. And why? The story wouldn't have changed the minds of those MAGA minions back in the day. I really don't care what the polls at the time said. I lived in Georgia at the time. I went to church and worked with those women. They were my family. I talked to them. Believe me. DJT really could have committed murder on 5th Ave. and they wouldn't care. And DJT knew it too, he said so himself. But for whatever reason he chose to falsify business, election and tax records.

Now he is a convicted felon and we are to be put through the spectacle of having an inmate run for the highest office in this country. And the bottom line on this debacle is that there are some very rich men who want nothing other than to drain the coffers of the United States of America. And it is all being exposed by the rape of a porn star. Tell me that God doesn't have a since of humor, or that Karma isn't a bitch...

Yesterday, A Political Rant

I saw this clip on YouTube yesterday. I am not at all endorsing Chris Christie. Honestly, I think that anything he says against the Trumps could just as easily be said about him. It didn't surprise me that they used to be friends. I doubt they still are. What surprises me is that he said it out loud, and in place where the MAGA crowd will be listening. I hope some of them will listen, and that some of them are my family. I wonder how many thousands of dollars my octogenarian aunts have wasted on these people. Not that it really is my concern, but it does make me angry that my aunt couldn't afford to have her air conditioner repaired because she sent a donation to build the wall. They live in Alabama. Air conditioning is essential.

I was going to write about this yesterday, but I wanted to run some errands and get out of the house for a but by the time I returned home the news had broken that Trump had been indicted. It's about time. 

So now we are going into another election cycle and it feels that we have been in one continually since 2015. Trump has been at the top of every news report since he floated down the fake gold escalator.

Wednesday

I found my old diary this week. I began blogging there in 1998, shortly after the platform opened. I poured my heart out there about my divorce, my son’s first deployment, and my cancer diagnosis. Then in a night, it was gone. Someone hacked the platform and my diary was deleted forever, or so I was told. I continued blogging there until I changed to Blogger. I have often been sad about the loss of those posts. But something strange has been happening. The old platform closed down for a long time, but then re-opened in 2018. When it reopened, I reclaimed my diary but did little with it. Some of the posts from 2004 have reappeared. I wonder if I ignore it for another 10 years if I won’t be able to recover all 6 years that were lost.

I have been questioning the validity of keeping the diary and the posts on this one. You see, I started the diaries as a place to express all of the things that were by necessity being swept under my rug. I could not express the emotions I was feeling about my divorce because I had children watching, I could not work through the emotions of a deployment and cancer treatments because of the same reasons. And everyone swallows their emotions at work, because its work and you can’t say what is on your mind there. The posts were a way of getting it all off my chest, and I did gripe quite a lot. The thought has come to me that getting it all off my chest may just be an excuse for cluttering the universe with things I should just let pass. All of the griping achieved little. I wonder if it was really as mentally healthy as I once imagined it to be. Something to contemplate as I continue to complain.

Just a thought, what do you think is the future of blogging in general? Do you feel that it is a platform that will still be available in the future? Just thinking.

It Is Finally Spring

 

We are finally getting spring in the valley. We wore hats and jackets through the end of April. It was more than just a little annoying. We would get a day or two that approached 70 F (21 C) and I would think it as safe to clean and put away all my jackets and woolens, and then the temps would drop again, and we’d be closing all the windows and bundling up to go outside again. Then we had a few days of the depths of deep summer where the temps were in the high 90’s (35 C) and it was only early May.  Karen was so upset by it she bought a window unit air conditioner. A couple of years ago we had a week of temperatures hovering around 115 F (46 C). It was during the Covid shutdown, so there were no cooling stations, the library and theaters were closed. And with no AC, it was hell, and took it’s toll on all of us. We all fear that happening again. But responding to that fear by getting AC, while it seems logical, only adds to the global warming that caused the problem in the first place. I warned both Karen and Ken that we shouldn’t use it unless the temps start wandering into the 90’s again, but they didn’t listen. They kept it on while the temps dropped into the 80’s (27 C) which resulted in a ginormous electric bill. Karen wasn’t happy that I refused to offer extra rent money to help cover it. But I did warn them and was over ruled when they made the decision to keep it on. If we are to have more extreme weather this summer, I will help, but temps in the 80’s can be dealt with using fans.

Summer is fast approaching, and we have a lot to look forward too. Karen is leaving on Monday to visit our other sister, Brenda. She just moved to a small town in South Carolina to be near her son. Karen and Nora will be there for a few days. Then at the end of July Karen and Ken will be camping with our friend Jeanine. I won’t be going with them because all three of my children, my grandson and my son-in-law will be here visiting me. We do not have the space in this house for everyone, but will rent an AirBnB to all stay together. I have decided on Tacoma as it will give us both the Mountains and the ocean to enjoy, as well as shops, museums, pubs and restaurants.  Then the first week of August, Karen and Nora will be visiting Atlanta. I could go with them, but I am declining to save my money to visit my oldest son, Tim in the fall. He hopes to be engaged to a woman named Emily by then. Of course, I have already cyber-stalked her and she seems like a lovely person. If the do marry, I will be gaining a new grandson. He is 12 years old, and his name is Nathan. Ken is planning a trip to Connecticut to visit with his daughters and grandkids in the fall too. I think that we will probably all end up back on the east coast sometime in the next couple of years, just maybe not all in the same house. Even though I love the PNW, I’d would go already if Karen and Ken weren’t dependent on the rent and food I provide to survive right now. I pay a third of the rent and buy well over half of the food. But living here is extraordinarily expensive. None of us can afford to live on our own here. But I would do alright by myself in the South. 

So much has happened since I last wrote in December. It is hard to think what I need to update. I feel bad about my inconsistency and neglect of this blog. It has it’s base in depression and anxiety. But it has also been hampered by computer access issues. My good computer died on me more than a year ago. I have an ACER laptop, but it is like all ACER’s I’ve owned, a piece of garbage. I’ve been trying to get by with a second hand IPad. I should just buy another computer, but I have been burned so many times. Even the name brand HP’s and Lenovo’s have disappointed. And the one MAC I’ve used was not much better.  I have found a keyboard and a set-up that is making the IPad work better for me now. I have every hope that it will make blogging much easier, and more consistent going forward. 

I hope you enjoy the pictures I am posting. I took all of them myself. The natural beauty of the PNW makes it so easy to get a beautiful picture. 

I need to go get dinner started now. Fried Chicken, salad and some garlic bread for tonight. I’m actually looking forward to cooking it.