A day in the life

Well, there’s good news and bad news…. All of us are fine, but….

It is a dark and stormy night. Don't you hate that? If it is night, it is obviously dark.  Anyway, it is both dark and stormy.  After days of drought, I admit that I am looking forward to the stormy part. But the wind has been quixotic for several hours, and though they are predicting one inch hail, so far there have been only a few drops...sort of like a sprinkler that someone forgot to turn off. There is thunder though. And I am looking forward to being in our house in a storm, and seeing how it rides the wind and rain. I actually pulled the car into the garage for the first time, just in case...

In any case, I started out the day with plans to write, as soon as I had finished paying some of mom's bills. I did the bills but couldn't find any envelopes, and I wanted to mail the checks when I went to town later in the day. So that led me upstairs to the office that has had no work on it since we moved. H set up the computer speakers and has been up there writing, but I have barely passed through, much less set about unpacking the books and the "priority" work boxes that I packed weeks ago.  It is the room I like the least in this house, thanks to its 60's vintage paneling and the Home Depot nasty doors. So I unpacked about 35 boxes and put books on the built in shelves. I filled two file drawers and put surplus office supplies in the little closet under the eaves. I opened several boxes of papers that went back downstairs and were stowed in the garage. Even with this big house, I don't want my 2009 tax files on the upper floor, adding to the weight on these old beams. It felt good to sweat and good to finally get acquainted with that room so that it feels less alien., but after 35 plus boxes I still hadn't found any envelopes and the writing plans had gone to hell, along with my plans to walk the property line, walk up the road, go to do some shopping in town, and to remove the molding around two of the 19th century window frames so that I can take the windows in for repair.

In order to do that though, I needed to buy or borrow a special tool that will split the "bead" on the molding, so that I can pry it away from its sash and pull the window free. So rather than spend money on a tool I will use infrequently, I decided to borrow the one Emmet had used to repair the window I broke before I left for NYC last week. 

Meanwhile, when I wasn't unpacking, I was sitting at the computer planning my friend's day. She is going to let someone in to Mom's apartment tomorrow so that they can evaluate the clothing that mom left behind. I also talked with the accountant, made plans for a change of dates to have someone review the art and furniture in mom's apartment, and spoke to the broker who is hoping to handle the sale of mom's beach house. 

Simon had been rubbing against me and trying to drink from my water glass, and eventually he jumped on the computer and jammed his  his head HARD into the bottom of the water glass I was drinking from, and luckily my teeth were protected by my now very sore lips. I thought he wanted water, but finally I realized he wanted his canned fish treat, so I got up and put it in two bowls and began looking for and calling Ed. He wasn’t in any of the closets. He wasn’t in the bedrooms upstairs, or the cedar closet or the area where there are shelves beside it.  He wasn’t in the closet below the stairs. The door to the garage was closed. As the panic began to grow, I remembered hearing a door slam earlier when the pre-storm wind began to pick up. I hadn’t found the door that had slammed but I had figured everything was ok so I had gone on emptying boxes in the office and corresponding on the computer, until fish face had started asking for his treat, at least an hour after the door slammed. Maybe more. 

I kept calling and calling and then went to open the door to the garage thinking MAYBE he had snuck in there when I was decanting boxes from the office. The door from the garage to the backyard was wide open.  I kept calling (panic rising) until Mr. Ed started crying from under the mud room windows ---OUTSIDE!!!!!! Oy. Thank god it was Ed who is a fraidy-cat and darts for home when scared...or at least he used to when he knew where home was. And thank god he likes to vocalize. If it had been Simon, he would have been long gone. 

In any case, Ed is now lying beside me, snoozing and Simon is on the cat mat cleaning himself.

Many years ago, after living in 325 square feet for 25 years, I said that I wanted a house where you could open and close the doors for no reason. Not because you needed privacy in the bathroom or were closing off the public hall. I wanted a house that had doors between rooms that you didn’t actually need.  

Sometimes there are too many doors. And it is still not raining.