Thinking ahead

Last night, I found some really super cool pendant light fixtures on a flash sale site. I showed them to Sunshine, and he agreed that they were, indeed, very cool. He even thought the price was reasonable, and told me if I wanted them to order them.

I didn’t order them. I’m thinking ahead to cabinets and appliances. Those appliances are the battles I’m choosing to fight. Those appliance are the hills I will die on if I must. The functionality of my kitchen is important to me, and I am willing to compromise somewhat on the aesthetics now to better appliamcererefford the functionality when it comes time to buy cabinets and appliances. 

This morning, I woke up thinking ahead to the move from magic bus to little house.

Side note: I also woke up with a radically different mood this morning that makes me think that straight depression might not be what’s wrong with me; it might be bipolar. That’s a post for a future time, though. 

Black to thinking ahead…

I realized that I’m going to have to pack up all our shit in the multitude of locations we have it stored in (magic bus, storage sheds, cargo container, my truck) and move it into the little house. It will be a great opportunity to purge. 

Honestly, it’s a frightening task. Sunshine is going to be far less willing to part with some things than I will be. It’s also frightening because it makes me realize that I should probably make some hard decisions about my clothes and things. Because why should I spend the energy to move shit I ain’t gonna use? We made that mistake when we moved into the magic bus. 

I’ll probably take you guys on the journey with me. If you can help me laugh at myself, or if I can just get your honesty about some of this stuff; well, than that will be a very good thing indeed. I’ve come to count on seeing your faces surrounding me as I walk this path, and you’ve become very fine companions. I’m grateful for that. It makes me want to shout to the world that “IT’S NEVER JUST THE INTERNET!”, you know?


Been busy

I haven’t posted in a few days. I’ve been a bit busy. I overestimated my spoons yesterday, and wound up spending my day pickling okra and canning tomatoes.

We’ve had two of Sunshine’s granddaughters here with us for the weekend while their dad attends a seminar in the metroplex. If you’re ever low on spoons, don’t try and care for little kids. They have so much energy, and I really struggled to keep up with the flow of conversation emanating from their minds😄 They’re beautiful little kids, well behaved and sweet; the just have way more energy than my wrong-side-of-forty ass can hope to muster.

I have work today, but tomorrow I hope to be back to post my response to the blogger tag I was nominated for. Then I’ll be filling y’all in on all the stuffs and things that have been happening around here. (Hint: there’s been progress on the house, lots of food has been preserved, and more food to preserve is coming).

I hope everyone had a wonderful weekend, filled with enough: enough laughter to chase away the tears, enough years to appreciate the laughter; enough fellowship with friends to fill your heart with love, and enough solitude to find your center again after the companionship; enough sustenance to drive away the hunger, enough hunger to help you appreciate good food; I hope you had enough.

New faces

We have a new face out here in the middle of buttfuck nowhere. Actually, there are a few new faces. A couple of them are visiting from the Pacific Northwest. One of them is a part-timer who works for Sunshine; we call him Pancho. I’m not sure how he got that nickname, but he says it was a childhood nickname. I’m not sure how he & Sunshine found each other, but I’m glad they did. He works his ass off, he’s polite; and he isn’t a weirdo that won’t eat squash and cantaloupe like Biff is.

side note: what the fuck is that even about, anyway? Who the fuck lives in the south and doesn’t eat squash or cantaloupe? I suppose I’ll give Biff a pass, since he does understand that peanut butter is a food group.

I’m glad Pancho is here. He likes to garden, so I’m hoping that he’ll be able to help me with the workload. He might be able to, if Sunshine will give the guys enough of a break from working on our little house.

It’s nice to see progress starting on the house again. Now, I just hope that the weather will cooperate and it won’t rain on us and shut down work.

I definitely need help

I might have finally gotten some. 

Mrs B likes organizing. I like organized things. I am tired of playing the never ending game of Tetris that all this food preservation causes. So, Mrs B is going to take charge of the community pantry and store and organize it all. She’s also volunteered to take charge of procurement of supplies for preserving food and inventory management of all of the above.

Side note: she also said she’s willing to help pick beans and shit as she can, but she will have a full time job most of the year because that’s how it works for teachers.

Thank heaven! I can’t do all the things alone. She likes organizing, please organize this stuff! She gets out and about far more often than I do, so she has far more opportunities to drop by a grocer or Costco or whatever and grab a gallon of vinegar or whatnot when needed for canning. She also has friends and family in the region that she’s going to ask for donations of jars because that’s the ultimate in frugality and eco-friendly consumption–reuse Mason jars! 

We’re kicking the guys out of the laundry room. They have to get their shit (tools and nuts and bolts and screws and random pieces of what the fuck ever those metal things are) out of there. Mrs B donated a bunch of rolling shelving units to the cause, and Mr B has already said he’d pay for jars since I provide the labor so it’s perfect that she’s taking on procurement for us since she can access him easier for funds (she does live with him, after all).

Once we get a system in place I won’t have to worry about keeping track of how much vinegar and jars and lids and shit I have and I can concentrate on processing the food. The guys have said that they’ll help harvest stuff, she will help when available, I’ll gladly shell peas and snap beans and freeze/can/dehydrate shit all day long, and then I can hand it to her and let her organize and store it for us all. 

Side note: I find a great comfort in the repetition involved in all this processing. I understand the appeal of Catholicism, what with all the repetition of the rosary and all.

It will be nice to have someone else taking on part of the headaches (and TBH it sounds like it won’t be a headache for her once the guys clear their shit out of the laundry room since she likes organizing). It will allow me to concentrate on the processing parts of the equation with the garden (and backdoor fruit from work). 

Thank you, Mrs B, for taking on inventory management and procurement of supplies! It’s nice to have help!

New Friends

So I’ve connected with a bunch of people on twitter lately. They’re a great bunch that I met through the Bloggess.

Recently, one of them tweeted out a call for anybody interested in snail mail pen pals. A whole fucking bunch of people signed up. I’ve been writing letters and sending cards to these folks and I’m loving it.

It gets at the heart of why I am trying to live more simply. Connection. I long to feel connected. Connected to people, connected to the earth, connected to my food, connected to the universe.

Pen pals is one way to do that. And in this digital age, it’s really nice to open the mailbox and see something besides the bill for my phone or internet service.

In with the new

I think we’ve officially added a new member of the community. Sunshine’s employee Biff has started buying plates and things for the RV he stays in out here. He finally basically admitted this is home now.

I think Biff is a great addition to the community. He participates, he helps us take care of Miss Mollie, he’s friendly, and he basically survives on Doritos and Nutty Buddy bars. Biff also works his ass off, which keeps the Doritos and Nutty Buddy bars from making him as big as a house.

side note: anybody that likes Nutty Buddy bars is OK in my book. Chocolate and peanut butter is the food of the gods and goddesses. Also? Anybody that helps us look after my Miss Mollie is welcome, because that little one is a handful–she doesn’t realize how little she is LOL

We definitely need more people in our community. We have more work than we few can handle. I know that Mr B has had many people express an interest in joining us out here, but I think many of them are looking for a community that is already established and running like a well-oiled machine. Established and well-oiled are a couple of things we ain’t. There are still a lot of growing pains and hiccups.

Biff is also more than just a hodtender (masonry trade terminology for mason’s helper). He’s done iron work and he’s been a carpenter. Biff seems willing to help us stain and seal our exterior doors, and help us build our bookshelf/entertainment center units; and that is a very welcome help to have when building a house.

It’s nice to have a new addition to the community. Diversity is our strength.

I am my mother’s child…

So anxiety has been kicking my ass lately. It’s so bad that Sunshine pretty much ordered me to seek professional help. I have an appointment with my primary (for allergies) on Thursday, and the receptionist told me to mention the anxiety to the doctor so that I could get a referral to the mental health care provider. I’m pretty sure that the meds I was taking for the back pain plus the steroid nose spray for allergies contributed to the explosion in anxiety. All that shit is slowly flushing out of my system, so the anxiety is lessening incrementally. I’m still going to get that referral, because Sunshine is right. There are proven methods of dealing with this, and it’s time I tried letting a professional help me.

Today, the anxiety wasn’t too bad until I wandered outside. I got hit by some nasty humidity and now my COPD is showing its ass and that’s causing the anxiety to ratchet back up. Time out for more fun.

In spite of all of the COPD and allergy woes, in spite of the anxiety, I actually feel like cleaning house today. It needs it desperately, and I actually seem to have the spoons for it.

This is where the part about being my mother’s child comes into play. Mom was more than a little bit OCD about keeping a clean house when I was a kid.

side note: I get it, actually. Sometimes, life is just so fucking much, and a clean house is something I can absolutely control. Well, maybe I can’t control Sunshine’s efforts to keep it from being clean, but I can absolutely control how long it stays borked after he borks it. There’s a weird sort of comfort in cleaning my house.

I often rebel against all that OCD cleaning I lived through. I notice dust on the entertainment center, and I want to clean it but I force myself to ignore it. However, that only goes on for so long before I can’t stop myself and I start cleaning. Today is that moment for me.

Yesterday sucked ass. Storms, fatigue, back ache, Sunshine out of town for the day… So I sat here and played around on the internet and texted with my bestest best friend ever. I also bought two pairs of slip-on sneakers, because I have resolved that slip-on sneakers are my new stilettos and I intend to own many many pairs of beautiful slip-on sneakers.

side note: I got a hell of a deal on them. I had the cash to spare, and they will actually get a lot of use. I’ve finally let go of the me I used to be with my sky-high heels and embraced something that works for my life as it is today.

I think I’m digressing, which is apparently a problem today. I have made it my mission to clean my house, and I have tweeted out a call to #thebloggesstribe to hold me accountable. They offered immediate support and some helpful suggestions about doing it in small, easily digestible bites with frequent breaks. Which was brilliant advice that I needed to hear.

I made it through making the bed and putting on not-PJs and then I got distracted by progress at our little house build site. I was down there snapping pics until my phone died. I brought my phone back to the magic bus to charge and promptly forgot to return and use Sunshine’s phone to take more pics because I started cleaning the kitchen because I am my mother’s child and am twitching over how dirty some parts of my house are after a weekend of guests and yesterday’s rain.

Of course, every trip outside is causing the humidity to send my lungs into fits, which starts ratcheting up the anxiety, which causes me to seek distractions, which leads me down rabbit holes on twitter and my favorite shoe shopping site. Hence this post.

Ultimately, I’ll get up and finish cleaning the house. Because it really is gross by my mom’s standards, and I am my mother’s child.

final note: I am actually proud of being my mother’s child. I am oddly comforted by all the quirks I see in myself that I know came from mom and nobody else but mom. Some of those quirks are annoying as fuck, and I don’t care. I am my mother’s child, and I’m fucking grateful beyond words for that.