There's Something in a Sunday

I'm not sure I feel so all alone (a reference to a Kris Kristofferson song) since FFP and I have been interacting most of the morning and early afternoon. I do feel a little overwhelmed and sad, though. I think that's probably typical for someone a couple of weeks away from acquiring a new place to live that will then have to be decorated, redone, settled into, furnished and adjusted to. All the while, maintaining the old abode and getting it fixed up and things removed from it and somehow getting it sold. Adding to my list of things to fret about is a visit from a bunch of relatives. They are staying with Dad. They won't be here too many days and the hope is that they won't drive him crazy!

When we ask the people at the condo office to let us do something or get information, their standard response is "We know you are excited about moving in, but..." followed by some explanation about why we aren't seeing things clearly. Ha. Excited. No. Scared, weary, afraid I'm forgetting something, certain they are forgetting something. Yes.

So, yeah, we dug into some of our tasks today. We attacked the cabinets in our media room. What a graveyard of anachronistic media. Laser disks, VHS tapes, cassette audio tapes, CDs, LPs, DVDs. If we sell the house to the buyer of choice all the equipment will stay. (All these media have players in that cabinet!) Therefore we decided to leave the laser disks behind. Cassettes are going to thrift store or trash. A few VHS ones survived. I packed four boxes of CDs. Yikes. Perhaps more winnowing will occur at the other end? Yeah, right. We haven't addressed LPs or DVDs yet.

Lots of stooping and lifting. FFP made migas while I started on the job and then he did lots of getting up and down off the floor to get the lower shelves. Finally we lost the will to continue on this particular task and FFP went to get the cars washed. My car would never get washed if he didn't take it.

While I was eating my migas, I sat at the table in the big room (the media room) because our breakfast table only accommodates one person with newspapers spread out all over the place. (FFP said that soon we will have a table where we can both sit. Which is true because our table for the condo is bigger than the breakfast table in question. However, in this house we had two other tables steps away from this one in other rooms. One is gone now, but still. I think he has a point, though, but I'm sure we will be bumping into each other in the condo in more ways than this.) I looked out into the backyard I will soon abandon and watched a blue jay bedevil a junk iron sculpture of a bird. It's beautiful. But there is always something dying or something growing where it isn't wanted as in the vine shown above.

There is a funny feeling that you spent money on components and media and, really, when did you think you were going to sit down and listen or watch all this stuff? I turned the CD player on and we listened to a few CDs. I flipped on the cable first and discovered that all the premium channels were blocked. We haven't watched TV in that room for a while. I'd returned cable boxes from two other rooms and I figured they had messed something up. I called and, amazingly, I got a technician with a big brain. He found something in their "quirky" (his word) billing system that caused it. He checked a box and voilà...we were getting the service we were paying for in that room. I mean we probably won't watch in there again for a while (ever?) but I hate it when things are like that. I still haven't gotten anyone with the company that is providing TV and such for our new condo to discuss it with me. And we are buying new (flat screen) TVs. So it may be months before I have a DVR and stuff in the condo. Not watching TV for a while would probably be a good idea! We could listen to CDs! Watch DVDs! (Yeah, I have three Netflix titles sitting around in the bedroom.)

Meanwhile, the computer transition isn't going too swimmingly. I called the Apple Store on Tuesday and Thursday. Both times the part was going to be in 'the next day.' Thursday the genius said "and then we will fix it and call you when it's ready." Don't call us, we'll call you. This made my guru upset (he's the real genius, I think). He called and they said "the part is being shipped and it will be in tomorrow." Tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow. I'm spending too much time trying to tweak computer environments. I seem to be a master at crashing machines. I crashed the Windows XP in the VMware as well as getting the iMac in a state where it wouldn't restart without a boot to the head. It all came back, but I've got to admit: I'm getting a little gun shy! Not that I'm not backing up everything and not that it isn't fun to break things, but sometimes you just want your computer to work!

But for the moment, I'm going to go through some more stuff. Maybe shred some old receipts. Maybe try to find some more stuff to get rid of. Maybe catalog a few things.

Hubris and Me

Pride goeth before destruction, and an haughty spirit before a fall.
- Proverbs 16:18, King James Bible Translation

I don't usually quote the Christian Bible here, although it's infinitely quotable (well, that is an exaggeration, of course, that turn of phrase because, to my math-driven mind as the text is fixed and not being added to it is therefore countable with countably many ways to quote it). But as I have tried to deal with all the objects and real estate in my life, one word kept leaping to mind: hubris.

You even hear people talk about "house proud" as a vice. Anyway, my point is only that pretending you have the resources to maintain a large house and lots of objects, is only pride. I spent my earlier years not in want, but way short of all the things and the space that I imagined would be wonderful. Of course, I wanted to share these riches, to entertain, to have house guests, to have parties large and small. And there are people with the means to keep that dream alive. Perhaps if it was a driving force for me, I could remain in this lifestyle. But it is not my dream. My dream is to be freer, to have fewer things and to entertain in public spaces to avoid the cost of maintaining a home with large rooms only for entertaining.

FFP took the above picture for when we are marketing the house. It looks like a relaxing and lovely place to sit. At a home you'd be privileged to own. It is. But I see beyond that to the maintenance. The plants that need trimming, the annual cleaning of the lawn furniture.

I hope I can put aside the hubris and give up ownership of some real estate and objects and simplify my life.

Not Disappointed...Just Sad

When I was younger, everything was a disappointment. My expectations were so high and rarely met. Doesn't happen that way much any more. I don't expect much. I receive a lot.

This afternoon I came home to find that the yard guys had done the mowing. The maid came late, but I made her leave on time. I cooked or, rather, I heated up things I bought at Central Market, hiding the containers, trying to make it look special.

"Should we call?" FFP asked.

"Not until seven," I insisted.

It wasn't quite seven when he called, though.

Our would-be guests are stressed. So stressed by her illness that she'd actually forgotten. But from FFP's end of the conversation, she wasn't well enough for an outing in any case.

We ate the meal with the two vacant seats at the table in what we call 'the room.' It was good. Especially the dish FFP prepared 'from scratch.' We drank some wine. We looked outside at the backyard where our friends who should have been our guests this evening had gotten married nine years ago this month.

I wasn't disappointed. But I was sad.

We turned on the outside speakers and took a drink outside. In spite of spraying ourselves with some foul-smelling moquito repellant (that was allegedly 'natural') the mosquitoes did bite.

I wasn't surprised at the mosquitoes. Or disappointed. But I did feel a bit sad. We watched the dark but wonderful movie "Notes on a Scandal" and that increased my sadness.

So Many Things I Should be Doing

I am blogging when I should be shredding stuff, doing my taxes, cleaning out things.

This picture was taken in my back yard. Does that vine coming out of my neighbor's yard give anyone else pause?

Talked to a friend today about how, when you are cleaning things out, everything is even more messy because you pull stuff out of closets and sort it around on the floor and every available flat surface.

Today I needed to work on my taxes. But what I really did was everything else. I even put TxTags on our cars and took the dealer's license plates frames off of them because of this.

Whatever Works

Things are broken, confused, out of whack.

This used to be our blue reflecting ball. It still reflects (that's me in my black sweats reflected), but it's status as a ball was compromised by ice crashing out of trees during the ice storm. We should have thought to bring it in. We did that once when large hail threatened.

One of the toilets in our house had a breakdown I couldn't fix. The good news is that it didn't flood like the accident at my dad's house. But our toilet karma is bad of late. Dad's house (carpets, walls, etc.) is dry now, we hope. Lots of suction, giant fans and dehumidifiers later. The carpet was designed for a wheelchair user and, I think, had no pad. I have an insurance adjustor coming tomorrow to look at the furniture stains, etc. Then I have to get a plumber to look at the toilet that created the deluge. And our toilet.

That's life. It's so exciting.

Meanwhile I was planning a trip. I was putting printouts about reservations in this small notebook with transparent pages. It is a type of notebook that is great for organizing trips. The pages have lots of holes and the rings open and swing out to rearrange or add pages. They are light and easy to use. I also printed online TripTix from AAA for the driving portion of the trip. Some things work. Some things don't. I'm always trying to achieve victory with office supplies and trying different filing systems and filing supplies. A few work. Most don't. Mess ensues that is always needing reorg. We have achieved a system with our household budget that works and migrates all the paper through a process where it can be used to enter budget entries on the computer and then get stored so it can be located and, after a while, shredded. A few other filing ideas I've had over the years work well, too. When I get a birth, graduation or wedding invitation or announcement I stick it in a folder. Sorting through this folder, I can find answers to birthdays, anniversaries and even to questions like "who was x's first wife?" I usually don't look at the stuff again, but it's always there.

Some things in life work. But some days it seems, not much does. Especially toilets.

It's Always Something

People say "it's always something." My dad has a better saying. "There's always something to take the joy out of life."

I haven't taken a new picture lately. I'm lazy and, well, there have been those joy-sucking things.

This picture is from 2004. Austin has a art studio tour of the East Side. When we went in 2004 we visited the workshop of the guy who did our first found object musician sculpture in our backyard. (Barry George.) Inside and outside there were bits and pieces, he'd collected for his work. This pile of bits including a rusted out typewriter caught my eye.

Since last we spoke, I chased my Uncle's appetites. His surgery was canceled. He was admitted to the hospital to have an echo to look at what they suspected was a clot and was. This was disappointing because it made his surgery too dangerous. But the procedure would have been (to paraphrase the doctor) amazingly suitable to his heart problems. He had to return to his Dallas area home and try to work on a regimen to dissolve the clot. Before the gang left, though, they had to be fed. And restaurants were full of people going out before Valentine's Day. So I had to take my uncle of the appetites to the grocery store where deli fried chicken, ribs, fruit salad and ice cream were seleccted. The next day the relatives left. But within an hour or two there was a toilet flood at my dad's that soaked carpets and I got a call that my uncle left his hearing aids and they needed to be overnighted to him. I found them since I was standing there watching a water removal guy I hired suck water out of the carpet. I put them in a plastic Easter egg that was, for some reason, in my Dad's dining room with some napkin to cushion them and took them to my favorite mailing place, Beyond the Mailbox, to be overnighted.

I am thrilled for my uncle that he may get the clot dissolved, get back down here and get a procedure that will help his heart keep up with his appetite. But I'm not looking forward, honestly, to the time when they come back. I'm so selfish about my time. But as Dad says, there is always something to take the joy out of life, and it would be nice to have my uncle be able to exert himself without getting so breathless. I hope it works out. My aunt and uncle are very independent but they are getting older. And I worry about them. They maintain a home in Maine and an apartment in the Dallas area. It seems like more than they should do. And they don't have kids so it will be up to nieces and nephews to help. Which brings us to the situation FFP and I find ourselves in. We are childless. So we have to put ourselves in a situation where we can take care of ourselves or pay someone to do it. Our current dream is to spend our old age in a downtown condo where we can walk to stuff (you know if we can walk) and we don't have a yard and a roof to maintain and we have a concierge to bribe to do things. Meanwhile, though, we have these parental units in houses living independently (after a fashion). And other older relatives. I guess the good news is this: I don't have kids! If I did they would theoretically be grown and independent and helping me out. But with my luck they'd be the type who were moving home to 'find themselves' after consuming an expensive education.

Maybe I'm a cynic. I know I'm lucky. I'm retired. I have time for these things. But it is always. Something.

Heartbeat

This detail (from a junk sculpture of a sousaphone player in our backyard) seems to reveal an absence of a heart. Too bad the artist didn't think to add one.

I haven't blogged since Sunday. When my favorite bloggers don't blog daily, it irritates me. It isn't that I expect them to give their all and write a nice, well-crafted essay every day. It's just that once I've mentally invaded their lives on a circadian cycle I want to know that they are there. It's the difference between what I expect of my aunts (occasional calls and letters with updates) and my dad (speak with him every day). It's like the people who post (almost) every day are completing a welfare call with the world. After all, that's why I speak with my dad every day. If he weren't alone or had someone else I wouldn't do that. But most of these bloggers have someone else to be sure they wake up in the morning and haven't fallen (and can't get up).

One of the bloggers I like is John Bailey. He can be properly called a blogger since he's switched to a blogging site. For a few days he hasn't had the spirit for the well-crafted essay of the day and pictures. So he's simply posted what he calls 'bloglets.' He's just checking in. Just giving us a heart beat on the day.

So, yes, this is my heartbeat for my readers (about a thousand less than Mr. Bailey has). I'll be back and all the more clever. (Right.)

Scary

The city-hired construction workers digging...now that's scary. The mess may keep the Trick or Treaters away, too. We have mini-Tootsie roll pops. That was FFP's choice of fare for the ghouls. Actually Cap Metro is supposedly paying for this project (building sidewalks on Shoal Creek), but the City is doing the supervision. We are looking forward to the sidewalk but it always gives us pause when the city goes after our yard. It was sad to see all that good dirt and grass and irrigation pipe get dumped into a truck. I was too lazy to dig up sod and salvage it. We paid our irrigation guy to cut and cap the system back (hopefully) out of the way of the digging. The city claims they will fix the irrigation system, but we didn't believe they'd do a good job because of our experience when the water main made a mess of the yard.

But it's Halloween. I'm no longer into costumes and celebrations. We will open our door to any kids that get through the mess. But we won't decorate. Until a decade or so ago, Halloween wasn't big in the UK. The New York Times reports that it is quite a business now. Commercial interests encourage it, of course. In 1991 I was in London and went to Hamley's Toy Store. There was a display of Halloween stuff there...an about four-by-four table with a few plastic pumpkins and such. The display seemed to be a nod to having every kind of exotic plaything from all over the world. (Including made in China for the U.S. plastic Halloween paraphernalia.) There was a little wind-up chattering skull. A little girl picked it up, looked at her mother and said, "Look, Mum, Hamlet!" Cultural differences? I guess. Today, I'm betting there is a huge display of Halloween toys and costumes in Hamley's. And the kids know all about it. I checked on the Internet to see if Hamley's still existed. Seems so.

Soon one will be able to peramulate on Shoal Creek and, taking the new sidewalk down 45th, cross the creek and make a nice walk without risking life and limb to cars and bicycles. Cool. It will make going to Fonda San Miguel on foot less scary. It will make Trick or Treaters a lot safer eventually. And since our targeted condo project downtown has started to disappoint us, maybe we will be walking those sidewalks for a long time.