This week, Sunshine and I must tackle some of the messes around here.
Sadly, half of those messes were caused by Thing 1 and Thing 2. The laundry room has been turned upside down and inside out as a result of my (and Mollie’s) search for them after their first few days in hiding here. The kitchen and living room have also been thoroughly disturbed as a result of the search for these cats: furniture moved, piles of stuffs displaced, and walls ripped open. Those damned cats better start killing mice or loving me to pieces or playing with Mollie or something fucking constructive. They’ve certainly been enough of a pain in the ass thus far.
We also have to clean up the one bedroom that holds all of Sunshine’s overflow of stuff that would fit in the magic bus if we didn’t actually LIVE in here but since we have to have room to LIVE then his hunting gear and art supplies are crammed higgledy-piggledy into the one bedroom the Mr and Mrs B aren’t using. (For the record, Thing 1 and Thing 2 have been confined to a bedroom that had been handling some of the B family’s overflow that didn’t fit into the office/ bedroom, the solarium, and the kitchen/living room. Once they start unpacking those boxes, the stuff will surely expand, so we’ve gotta get those damned cats ready to move out of that bedroom. Fuck, the headaches never end with those two new cats.)
side note: the bedroom filled with Sunshine’s stuffs and things looks frighteningly like a room from one of those hoarder shows, minus the bags of garbage and heaps of animal shit. It is literally PILED with random stuff that has just been thrown and shoved through the door the best we can.
In anticipation of the need for organizational supplies, I’ve been collecting bushel crates made of thin wood from some of the farmers and growers that my boss works with to supply our produce stand. I’m going to need them. I swear on all that is holy, Sunshine has some serious stuff crammed into that bedroom. I can barely get the door open.
Side note: the bedroom in question has no fucking closet. Why? I do not fucking know. I have no clue why somebody would take a closet from a bedroom to put in a central heat&air unit and leave a closet in the kitchen. Who the fuck does some shit like that? I’ll tell you who does some shit like that–the contractors and DIYers that Mike Holmes has to come in and clean up after. (Unrelated: what must it be like to be Mike Holmes and constantly have people showing you nightmare renovations gone horribly awry and be asked “can you unfuck this”?)
While we are still the only ones living here in this “intentional community”, eventually the B family will show up and start unpacking their boxes. This means that we need to unfuck our messes (which are half the Things’ messes and half Sunshine’s messes) so that the family B has room to unpack their stuffs that have been moved into the house.
We could probably get away with leaving the closetless bedroom a heap of random hunting and art supplies except for the fact that we are expecting guests in the not-so-distant-future. Guests who will need a place to unpack their suitcases, and a place to sleep that doesn’t require wading over the hoard to do so.
All of this would be no problem if we didn’t have a list of complications thrown into the mix: Sunshine’s treatment leaves him with no endurance, my COPD leaves me with no endurance, the heat/humidity/pollen/dust all combine to make it hard for normal people to function much less two people with medical issues, there’s still the business of livng that has to be attended to in all this–laundry, housekeeping, yardwork, renovating the pink house… I could go on but I would just depress myself.
I knew that simple living wouldn’t be easy, but I never imagined it would be this hard and this lonely.