I may be getting closer to the shore despite the waves that occasionally toss me back to sea. I may have mentioned the thoughts and feelings that compelled me, nay, drove me, to seek something more all these months but have recently waned and been replaced with bewilderment and the thought that "they pay me for this?". This is both good and bad, obviously, because it means the day to day is kid-stuff, but also that I'm ultimately short-changing myself. The redemption is that success is difficult unless there's drive, so schedules and dates mean little without motivation; I'd short-change myself either way at the moment.
I think this has to do with the recent move. Before, the apt had been "settled" by living there. Often a mess, it was temporary and home and required little advance planning or work to be done. Meanwhile, the Lodge didn't necessarily need to be neat, orderly and 100% correct; it was a side project moving forward like other side projects. With the apartment out of the picture, the only thing running at 100% is the day job. That means everything else is ultimately chaos. I'm beginning to realize a lot of people must live their life this way.
But what a weekend! Slaved away the better part of the break but took the day off on Monday. Got off "early" on Friday (which meant 10 hours) and ran errands- dropping things off at the parents then to the lodge to putter and clean. Attempted to run the tractor and discovered I was out of fuel. Back into town for gas, extension cords and a case of oil I had at the parents. Ben came out later that eve and landed a hand on some projector trials out in the DI lot; I was beat as was he and he took off in short order. Managed a decent night's sleep.
Saturday was my big fix-up day. That's actually what I called it. The big fix-up day. I started with the tractor: first an oil change, then the filter..that turned into a fiasco. I'm thinking it had been a few years based on the remains of the metal cartridge I removed. Cara went off to run errands and I moved on to changing the oil in Blazer. Next was dragging two different lengths of aluminum ladders to each telegraph pole along the tracks. One, lightweight but only long enough to reach the lower crossarms, the other heavy as all sin, especially when being drug through waist-high weeds, avoiding holes and mounds from hidden, rotting ties. If you're looking for an exhilarating experience, try clinging to the top of a ladder perched in a thicket of sumac on un-even ground, leaning against a 100-year old creosote pole full of holes, with cross arms attached by luck and perseverance. I managed to get the old galvanized hardware to cinch-up after years of wind and storms had worked the nuts loose several inches(!). Obviously the crossarms were mostly swiss-cheese but they're no longer at risk of failing due to loose hardware.
Heat-stroke nearly set in on this little task, but the job is done. After a break I moved detritus from the side yard out to the fenceline, cursed at the mole and wired up a low-voltage control box in the pumphouse. Next, time to mow. I got the Farmall going and tackled mowing up at the road and started on the parcel south of the lodge. Cara took over the push mower and worked the west side. By twilight we had most of it done and settled down for burgers on the grill. A perfect evening, too. Cara's friends came out later that night for a tour but I was bushed.
Sunday, more of the same. A late breakfast also brought an unknown comedy- "The Last Time I Saw Archie", starring Robert Mitchum and Jack Webb. It was going to be a hot-one so I took the opportunity to make a no-bake Oreo dessert for later.
Cara ran the mower and we cleared the side yard entirely. I augured a hole for the clothesline post, filled it with peagravel then mixed up cement. With Cara's aid we plumbed the post and let it set up for the day. I moved on to raking down the hill-o-dirt in the septic area and then fought the dry ground, burying the horseshoe pit frames and filling with 70lb tube sand. I put together a patio table I had on hand and found a shaded niche for it under one of our few large trees, out near the pits.
Ben, Cam and Katherine showed up shortly after the work was done and we settled down for a mediocre game of bocce-ball followed up with a series of practice rounds of horseshoes. The weather was more fitting for conversation than a test of skill but nobody was interested in making a big night of it. Just as well, we were whooped. The next day was set for leisure. After organizing the upstairs, Cara got laundry going while I tackled ironing. I pushed the Kirby around while she scrubbed the bathroom. We packed cold chicken, the picnic blanket, the AM radio and some high life's and hit the road.
The Parkersburg recovery is nothing short of astounding. Eerie, actually, being that _everything_ is new. Two years ago the tornado came through and we had driven the same route 24 hours before. This time, we picked up snacks, lemonade and pasta salad at the new grocery store, Brother's Market. Excellent prices for a small town affair. The afternoon was terrific for a picnic at Pine Lake and 1330 came in crystal clear. After traipsing around the countryside we made it home around 7:30 with enough evening light to sit outside and take in the cleared yard and lazy sunset. I wish the sleep that night were as relaxing but a whole lot of bumps-in-the-night and an over-zealous bat made it a rough one.
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