The Dead Has Arisen

I just bet you thought I forgot about you, didn’t you?  I didn’t.  I just didn’t have time for you.

In truth, I haven’t had much time for anything.

The move is complete.  Well, sort of.  We live in our house, which is a good thing, but it looks a little like a refugee camp, which is a bad thing.  I’m sort of in house limbo right now, with some of my possessions here with me and some of them at The Grandparent’s house.  The disorganization is starting to mess with my mind.  I have things here that I didn’t know were here, and I am missing things I thought were here.  If you follow.

Anyway, it’s been a great experience, although I did have to get one really bad day out of my system.  Long story short, a box being carried by someone other than myself suddenly opened up on the bottom, and all three of my glass measuring cups that I’ve had most of my marriage shattered.  But that wasn’t the killer.  The killer was my coffee cup from Hawaii, which I have been drinking coffee out of for about ten years.  It died a horrific and violent death right on the threshold of the front door.  All of my uncertainty and all the pressure just sort of came to a head at that moment, and I went up to my sort of bedroom, sat in the floor, and had a good cry.  It was brief but very gusty, kind of like a tornado, and I felt much better afterward.

One thing I’ve discovered about myself is that I don’t much care for change.  I don’t know, maybe that’s not the right way of explaining it.  I like the end result of change, but the actual process of changing is somewhat upsetting.  I have always accused my daughter of being a slave to her routine, but in truth, she can’t hold a candle to me.  I must be just about the most anal retentive, control freak neurotic on the face of the earth.  Living out of bags and boxes literally drives me crazy.

Luckily, my family is very patient, and things are finally settling into a routine.  Life is starting to have a pattern again, which is good.  We are all adjusting well and catching on.

And I have stopped sneezing.

At first, I was greatly concerned, because I thought I was allergic to my house.  Really.  Then I thought I was just allergic to cleaning.  But it was the same old thing I’m always allergic to–cats. The previous owner had some cats in here, and I found cat hair everywhere.  It was on the ceiling fans for crying out loud!  On the walls, in the corners, on the window sills, everywhere.  It took me over a week to conquer it all and make the smell of cats be gone.  Either that, or I’ve just got used to it.  Whatever.  As long as I’m not sneezing.  Literally, my sides hurt because I sneezed so much.  I’m not making that up.

Also, I sort of forgot the pressure of home ownership.  It’s like you suddenly see ten thousand things that need to be done.  Then another.  Then another.  Then another.  Then……well, you get the idea.  For example, I’m fairly certain the windows in this house were installed by cave men a hundred thousand years ago.  When we looked at the house, I thought the wooden windows were charming.  Now, if you listen closely, you can actually hear the money fluttering out of my wallet and out those windows.  The are an energy nightmare.  Oh, but how charming.

There are also two hot water heaters, both hooked up and working and all tied together with approximately ten million miles of copper and plastic pipe.  They must have hired the plumber that did the work in that crazy Winchester house.  You know, the one where the lady keeps on building forever to satisfy the spirits or whatever?  Well, her plumber must have come here, and just kept adding pipes until the day he died.  Pipes everywhere.  Two hot water tanks?  I mean, it’s a biggish house, but not that big.  We managed a bigger house with more people at The Grandmother’s with only one tank. My spouse just walks down in the basement and looks at those pipes and shakes his head.  I said, “What do you need?”  His response?  “A plumber.” I started to tell him to make sure it wasn’t the Winchester one, but I wasn’t sure he’d know what I was talking about, and I was too tired to explain.

Well, I’m not going to keep you all day after staying away so long.  I should let you ease back in.  I have all kinds of things I could tell you, but I’ll save them for another day.

It’s good to talk to you again.  I promise it won’t be so long until next time.

Unless I start sneezing again.

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5 Comments on "The Dead Has Arisen"

  1. Suzanne
    16/10/2012 at 10:45 am Permalink

    Moving is a nightmare, but eventually things will settle down. We moved to Austin from No. CA 2.5 years ago. We had the requisite garage sale and purged things, and STILL brought too much stuff with us. Naturally we paid up the ying-yang to essentially bring a bunch of crap half way across the country, only to get rid of it here!

    That is the ONE (and only) good thing about moving. It really forces you to look at your “stuff” and decide if you really want to carry it across the threshold.

  2. Rachel
    17/10/2012 at 1:54 am Permalink

    Good to have you back!

  3. Janice
    17/10/2012 at 9:26 am Permalink

    Thanks, my friend. I have to get caught up on reading my favorite blogs, too.

  4. Rebekah C
    18/10/2012 at 2:38 pm Permalink

    Congratulations on the move! It’s weird how houses are just as needy and clingy as children. Every time you think you’ve got it all squared away and dealt with, something new comes up, crying and demanding attention. A leak, a crack, peeling paint, drafty windows…it never ends.

  5. Janice
    19/10/2012 at 6:40 am Permalink

    You sure said a mouth full! It’s crazy. I had to stop stressing over it and just take the stuff as it comes.

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