My weekend started out on a better note than I had anticipated. Friday, meeting with my attorney at his request, I was pleasantly surprised to hear that he was filing two of the motions I had requested he file. The first was a motion for reconsideration of the Pendente Lite order, and the second, a motion to SHOW CAUSE, for the telephone threat received 5/5/10. I don't know why he changed his mind from two weeks ago when last we met, and at which meeting he indicated these motions were not how things were done in this court.
Nevertheless, whether this court shoots me down or not, at least I am trying to get justice from those who, at least I had always believed, are sworn to administer such. We shall see. One thing is certain. My attorney's decision to file these motions, later than I would have preferred but filed nonetheless, gave me a much better outlook for the weekend.
The weather here was HOT both Saturday and Sunday, with temperatures rising into the 90's and humidity thick enough to cut with a knife, but I was out in it, cutting the lawn at the "marital" residence, trimming shrubs, transplanting flowers, planting sunflowers, repairing septic system at the old farmhouse, packing boxes and boxes and more boxes, bringing carloads of these boxes from the "marital" residence to the old farmhouse. And each afternoon, just as I thought I would surely melt into a puddle, the big dark clouds boiled up above, the winds picked up and the thunderstorms cooled the air.
The "marital" residence is about to burst forth it flowers. Two weeks from now, I am certain, the garden will be nothing but a mass of yellow flowers. It truly is a beautiful place, and it is sad that it is just sitting there, not being enjoyed by anyone. I do hope the court allows me to list it for sale soon. I'd like to let some family enjoy the summer there, on the pond, in the woods, surrounded by nature. But for now, I am spending about four hours a day there, keeping everything up, and getting all of my "stuff" moved out.
And, at the end of the weekend now, I can look back and see I did get a lot accomplished. I have a LOT more to get done, of course, but it was a really good weekend, and for that, I am grateful.
My niece, not yet 25 years old, has completed her coursework, internships and all else that culminate in her being awarded that degree she has earned. She is officially, a Doctor of Physical Therapy.
I will miss the graduation party her parents are throwing for her, but I know all who attend will have a blast. Friends and family are traveling from near and far to share time, stories and congratulations for the guest of honor. The party will be next Saturday in Pennsylvania. Since I will not be there, I think it only appropriate to give my congratulations ahead of time.
To be honest, it is hard for me to even imagine she is nearly 25, much less, completed seven years of post high school education. In my mind, she is still that adorable little girl with blonde curls. One of my fondest photos of my brother Ted, who passed away nearly 23 years ago, is of him holding the bundle of joy, his niece Heather.
And the photo of Heather and her cousin Richard, oh, probably two years old or so, walking, buck naked in the backyard, oblivious to the world, the photo that still graces the hallway in my Dad's house, is another favorite. That absolute innocence of youth that, once lost, can simply never again be regained, is captured in that photo.
Over the years I watched Heather as she grew into the beautiful young woman she is today. Always industrious, I was not surprised when, once she decided she wanted to work in this field, she stayed the course and reached her goal.
I had to laugh this afternoon when I read her Facebook entry of yesterday, and I quote,
"At the news of my being single, my grandfather asked me if I have given any consideration to becoming a nun in the catholic church... This is after I've had three coronas by the pool and two glasses of wine with dinner. And then he told me I finally look healthy after getting a mild burn from laying out... Never a dull moment..."
No, Heather may not yet be married, but a nun??? I just don't see THAT!
Congratulations Heather! You have made your aunt proud!
Yesterday, as I was driving into the long drive that leads to my old farmhouse, I spied my neighbors in their yard. Since life has been particularly hectic of late, it had been easily two weeks since last I stopped by to say, "hi." So I stopped and we chatted. Eventually, we ended up inside the house, and they asked if I had read the paper. Well, no, I had not, but they pointed to the local paper, sitting on the kitchen table. I wasn't sure why I was going to look at the paper, but it was clear they wanted me to.
So I obliged them and started skimming through the paper, on a hunt for I knew not what. After a few minutes I did find it. A small blurb, in the "local arrests" section. There, I read, that my neighbor, Jim, had been arrested on a grand larceny charge, a felony. Well, I wasn't exactly sure how to react to reading this news, standing in Jim's kitchen, with Debbie and Jim looking on. I asked what it was all about, and, of course, they told me.
Jim is a 67 year old, retired welder, retired military, and, at least as far as I have been able to determine in the four months or so I have known him, a guy who will always bend over backwards to help others... anyone. So, this little article seemed a stretch to me. The tale is a little convoluted, but as they told it, I was convinced they were telling the true course of events.
It all started, they say, with a loan Debbie made to a long-time friend of Jim's. He was down on his luck and she lent him $2500. She also sold him a nice, used truck -- he was to make monthly payments on the truck. Jim also allowed this 77 year old friend to store a pole barn and lots of tools and equipment on his property, rent-free. That was six months ago.
In the early spring, Jim worked very hard to help another friend, this an 86 year old, regain his commercial crabbing license, and Jim then worked with this elderly fellow to build crab traps to complement the crab traps the old man already had. Jim was leaving before daybreak, and returning home, exhausted, well after dark, spending his time helping the old guy with the crabbing.
After a few weeks, it became apparent, the crabbing idea, while a dream the old man had wanted to relive, was really more than he could sustain. Jim and the old guy decided to call it quits on the crabbing operation. Jim, the 86 year old and the 88 year old brother, moved the crab traps for storage purposes, onto Jim's land. There was a group of six older traps that they had not used in their crabbing this year, but were stacked on the old man's property. When they were moving the crab traps to the storage on Jim's land, Jim inquired as to whether the six older traps also belonged to his friend. Being told they were, in fact, the 86 year old's, Jim and the two elderly brothers picked the old crab traps up and tractored them to the storage on Jim's land.
MEANWHILE, Debbie and Jim have decided that six months is long enough to wait for even a single payment on either the truck or the $2500 loan, and they decide to recover the truck from the 77 year old friend. He was not happy with them for taking the truck, and he let them know it. That didn't phase Jim, and he continued allowing this guy (Hunt) to store his pole barn, building materials and equipment on Jim's property, free of charge.
Hunt indicated to Jim that the six older crab traps belonged to Hunt. Jim told Hunt that if he wanted the traps, he was welcome to come and get them. Instead, this week, Hunt filed a complaint with the local Sheriff's Department. Hunt insisted on charging Jim with a felony, and, according to the newspaper blurb, the Sheriff did not swear out the warrant... Hunt did. In the Commonwealth of Virginia, $200 or more theft qualifies as grand larceny.... Hunt valued the crab traps at $200.
Now, the case is a little goofy sounding to me. I mean, I had this idea that when men get older, they mellow and are more responsible, but this incident would challenge that idea. According to Jim and Debbie, Hunt is mad because they took the truck back... the truck he'd been driving for free for six months.
Well, the attorney Jim had to retain, thinks it's a ridiculous case, as does the Sheriff, and the Magistrate. Nevertheless, the COST of the case has already started biting Jim, to the tune of $1000 in attorney's fees... and that is ONLY if the case gets dismissed at the first hearing.
I have no idea what will come of this case, but it seems very sad to me that a guy would do something like this to an long-time friend. Jim is upset about the charges, but I think his feelings are really hurt by this friend's betrayal of the friendship. In fact, his accuser STILL has his pole barn and equipment stored on Jim's property...for free...
I used to work with a guy who always told me, "no good deed shall go unpunished." These days, I am really beginning to think he was right. And we wonder why our youth struggle with decency and respect for their elders... perhaps there IS something to living a life that EARNS that respect rather that simply DEMANDS the respect. Nevertheless, I will take a lesson from this.... before I move any crab traps, or allow any old friend to store his crab traps on my land, I will make certain he PROVES he owns them.... Better yet, I think I will just not let friends store crab traps on my land... JUST SAY NO TO CRAB TRAPS!!
May 19, 1957 was the day. Jeannie had no idea what lay ahead for her. She was to be the eldest of six children and the built-in babysitter for her younger siblings. She had the spotlight for only one year before the first of these siblings arrived... that first sibling was me. Jeannie and I shared a room until the day she graduated high school and left for Florida to attend university, leaving me (finally) with "my own room."
I won't pretend Jeannie and I saw eye to eye on things growing up. Quite the contrary. Jeannie was "the boss" and I was the kid who could not keep her mouth shut...simply HAD to correct the story... no matter whether it was my younger brother or my father telling the tale. Correcting my brother was, of course, expected, but correcting my mother, or speaking back to my father was not the wisest move on earth. I can attest to getting my fair share of "correcting" from him over the years. And as I continued in my outspoken ways, Jeannie wondered why I always had to buck so hard... why I didn't just shut up and avoid the punishment. So, in my view of the world in those days, Jeannie was the goody-two-shoes and I was, well, the one who got into trouble... not with the law or anything, just with my parents.
Our room was small compared to the standards of kids' rooms today, but it was better than sharing a room like my brothers did...they were four boys in a single room sporting two sets of bunk beds. Jeannie and I shared a double bed in our early years. Now that "sharing" was the source of many a battle, and I remember how WONDERFUL it was when we moved to England, and Jeannie and I swapped the double bed for bunk beds. I slept up on top and that was just fine with me! No more battles over the sharing of that double bed.
When I think back on those things that seemed such BIG deals when I was a youngster, I am truly amazed. How narrow was my view of the world back then.
After college, after we were both completely on our own, my sister and I actually became friends. There were no more battles over the bedroom, my side the pig-sty, her side the better-homes-and-garden-on-a -nickel-budget side. There were no more battles over purple walls and matching bedspreads. In fact, in our adulthood, we found more in common with each other than I could ever have imagined as a child.
Last week I was in Maryland taking required training for work. The second night there Jeannie called and we talked on the phone for nearly an hour. We don't do a lot of phone calling, neither of us being particularly crazy about that mode of communication. Still, since we only get together a couple of times a year, it really was nice talking with her. After we spoke, I thought about the conversation, a conversation in which she prefaced several of her sentences with, "I'm not trying to sound like your mother," LOL. I had to laugh. I am all grown up, in fact, well over the hill now, and my sister is worried about giving me advice, worried that I might think she is trying to be my mother!
Well, the truth is, all of those words, all of that advice, are just well intentioned concerns about what is happening in my life. I cannot find fault with someone who cares about me and is comfortable enough to talk about tough subjects with me. Does it mean I will always heed the advice offered? Ummmmm.... well, let's just say that I haven't lost my will and determination in my adulthood. I still have an idea of what I think is right and what is right for me, so, probably, I'll just be very thankful I have my sister, and that she is willing to tell me what she thinks. I like the honesty.
But that brings me to the point of my post tonight. Today Jeannie turned another year older and I didn't even get out to send her a card! Shame on me.... In the next few days, I will get the card in the mail to her and I imagine she will understand that I didn't forget her on her birthday...
OK Jeannie, HAPPY BIRTHDAY. Go ahead and get older... I'm right behind you!
I recall as a youngster never really being too worried about exams. Now this is not to imply I was sure I would do well on them or that I was some sort of genius or other -- quite the contrary. No, I just was never too hung up on the concept of cramming a lot of information into my head for the purpose of regurgitation onto paper as the goal of an education. If the knowledge I was gaining wasn't sufficient, and my understanding thereof wasn't accurate, no pressure of the exam would change those facts. No, I always imagined exams were tools to allow ME to determine my actual level of knowledge, or at least my alignment with the teacher's understanding of the material.
So, against the recommendations of parents, teachers and such, I would not "cram" before an exam. I either knew the material, or I didn't. And even if I WERE successful in cramming all of those notes into my brain for the necessary time required to allow leakage onto the exam paper, once that flow started it almost always left my brain entirely. So, cramming was pretty much a guarantee I would not retain the information.
My preferred method was to listen, take notes, ask questions and verify my understanding as I went along. Before the exam, a simple read-through of the material to be covered helped me define boundaries, and, if there WAS still something I wanted clarification on, I could research the answer. That was "back in the day..." Back then the research of such last minute tidbits was constrained by the availability of resources...pretty much, if the answer wasn't in the required textbook, I had the option of consulting the Britannica Encyclopedia, or asking my parents.... Since asking my parents a question on subject matter the night before a big exam would typically bring on lectures of being better prepared, I generally opted for Britannica....
Things are quite different today. Armed with my BA and MS degrees and many years of absence from the classrooms, I find myself, over 50 and trying to learn as if I were still 15. I am frustrated by the presentation of the materials in the classes offered and required for becoming "certified" in technical areas, and yet these certifications are critical to my employment stability.
Hence, I dutifully attend the classes, take my notes, and, with 4 long days of class and equally long nights of completing the assignments, I am faced this morning with the exam. Now, under NO circumstances would I consider anyone who has just been introduced to this subject matter to be competent on the material four days later. It would seem the goal is to effectively cram the information into my head, successfully regurgitate it on paper within the 2-hour time constraint, and then, MAYBE, revisit the material in the weeks to come, allowing myself the opportunity to actually LEARN the material.
The upside down approach to learning, I have discovered, leaves me with something I simply do not recall from my youth... test anxiety. Well, so I also discover the more I cram, the more anxiety I experience... there is just something that nature mandates in these situations.... you simply cannot teach an old dog new tricks.
So this morning, after spending the first waking hours trying to cram this stuff into my resistant brain, I decided the better approach was to simply put it away. The exam will start whether I am prepared or not. I will take the exam whether I am prepared or not. And I will either pass or fail. None of these things change the fact that my competent UNDERSTANDING of the material will occur, oh, I dunno, maybe a month or two down the road....
And with that, I suppose I should pack up my belongings, check out of the hotel and head over to the pre-exam "Q&A" session to be held during the 30 minutes immediately prior to the exam..... I'm sure I can confuse myself just a little further if I can add someone else's confusion to my own....
In my more than 50 years on this planet, I have not, until a few weeks ago, had the opportunity to experience that simple pleasure of an allergic reaction to poison ivy. I presume that is, indeed, what this was/is, though I could not bring myself to pay for a medical opinion. What I do know is this. It started as a little tiny spot on my leg that was pretty itchy... but I mean it was TINY, like no bigger than a pinhead. I have already plucked off several ticks this season and presumed this was just another tick bite or spider bite or, well, you get it.
By the next morning, my little spot was much bigger and much itchier and I began to suspect this was something new and different. There were blisters appearing in the brilliant red patches and what had been confined to one inner thigh (don't EVEN ask me how, since I was wearing double layers with overalls while working in the yard and woods) was now taking over both thighs... I had another spot on my forehead and one in my eyebrow and down to the edge of the eye... and several on my arms.... By this time, I was pretty certain I was suffering from the poison ivy rash and decided the typical over-the-counter remedies would be my best bet.
I cannot say the concoctions I purchased were particularly helpful. The rash kept spreading was REALLY unsightly.... I'm not exactly a vain person, but even I was glad it wasn't shorts weather yet! The one thing that seemed to really be effective for me in the ability to tolerate this new affliction was benedryl. One tablet worked pretty well to control the itching and hence the scratching....
I was thrown back nearly twenty years to the time when my children were young and my daughter, then about eight years old, developed some little spot, which itched and spread and which, before long, covered a good portion of her body. By the time we attended a 4th of July get together with family friends, Jenn was really quite a sight! My friend, a nurse, told me it looked as if Jenn had started out with poison ivy, but had what looked to her like a case of impetigo... not having a clue, but heeding her advice, I took Jenn to the doctor the next day. There, the condition was confirmed and medications prescribed.
For the next week or so, several times a day, the ointments had to be applied to the infected areas of Jenn's face, arms, legs and less convenient and embarrassing locations... her father and I took turns applying the ointment, as Jenn protested indignantly. On one evening, as James was applying the ointment to her face, Jenn shared with him, "this hurts worse than childbirth..." I wonder if she will hold to that when, in fact she does experience THAT!
At any rate, I am now, I believe, rid of the poison ivy. The skin has a "new" look to it, but is surprisingly, still itchy. Not nearly as bad as it was, but itchy, nonetheless. I sincerely hope this is something that will, eventually ease up! I guess life is always full of new experiences, and I should count my lucky stars I lived nearly 52 years before falling victim to the leaves of three, but, well....
Still, I won't let a little poison ivy deter me from enjoying the great outdoors, the goats and the TONS of work still ahead of me in taming the old farmhouse and ten acres upon which she sits!
I'm traveling again -- taking a required training for work and having a pretty good time. I know everyone in the class and, since many of us are mainly telecommuters, we don't get a chance to see each other very often. The class is lively, with excellent discussions and a whole lot of learning going on. I'm not sure the instructors are always fully appreciative of our particular brand of humor, but, nonetheless, they tolerate us.
The drive up Sunday was a glorious one, weather-wise. Before leaving town I met my son and daughter-in-law for Mother's Day Lunch in Yorktown. I think it had been three months or more since we'd shared a meal and we had a good time catching up. Some of the topics were not the normal fare for a Mother's Day lunch, but they didn't dampen the occasion.
When I returned home, just long enough to pack for the trip out of town, I discovered my daughter had called, so, on my way here we chatted. I have to admit, I truly enjoy talking with my grown children. I cannot imagine having youngsters anymore, and one day I look forward to having grandchildren, but for now, I am completely good with having adult, responsible, intelligent children with whom to converse.
I was trying to determine if there was a moment that I discovered their transition from the teen/young 20's to what I would classify as truly "adult" and I simply cannot identify such a moment. I suppose it is just one of those "ahha" moments when I realize I am no longer explaining and giving advise, and trying to help them with their latest catastrophe on every call... that moment when I realize I am gaining as much insight from their observations as I have always tried to share with mine... and it is one of the best Mother's Day gifts a mother could ask for.
The drive was a long one. Virginia was fine, with little to no traffic on the back road route I had selected, but once I crossed the bridge into Maryland, it was a different story. Bumper to bumper traffic the rest of the way was the name of the game. At least we were moving. My cohorts who traveled up I-95 were stuck in non-moving gridlock for hours....
I was happy to pull into the hotel, shortly after dark and was checked into my room a few minutes later. That night I went to bed early (for me) just after midnight, and awakened at 2:33 am, completely at a loss as to where I was. I did not recognize a thing and it took me what seemed like minutes in that half-awake state to figure out I was in a hotel room! Too much stress, I suppose. It takes its toll.
Monday was a long day, and chilly outside, so being stuck inside, even though the sun was shining gloriously, did not bother me at all. Today, on the other hand, it started raining here around noon and they say we should expect this rainy weather the rest of the week. Well, I don't much mind. I have a lot of studying to do and such, so being distracted by lovely weather would not serve me well. My spirits today are a little better than yesterday when I discovered the latest volley from Conflicted Counsel awaiting me in my Incoming Mail online... today I had no such correspondences, but neither did I have any positive ones from my own attorney... I am afraid he is just not the "go-getter" I need....
So tonight, I will spend my time studying, enjoying the drizzle outside the window.... and looking forward to the days when this whole divorce thing is behind me.
The old farmhouse project has been an interesting one so far. I can assure you, everything costs at least double what I think it should cost, and every tradesman I have perform some work for me, leaves me with more work to do. There is a law of the universe in there somewhere, but the precise wording of that law eludes me just now. Suffice to say, it is akin to Murphy's Law -- if it can go wrong, so it shall.
I have hired all kinds of folks to help me get to a point where I can live in the apartment over the garage and work on the old farmhouse in my leisure. I have tried to "go local" helping sustain the local economy. So far I have had:
1. about a dozen loads of "road dirt" and gravel delivered to the property in an attempt to create driveable roads on the property -- good guy, friendly, personable... had to pull his dump truck out of the mud twice, forgot to raise his trailer jack stand when he was leaving, after using his tractor to create my roads, and dug a nice deep groove down the center of my approximately 500 foot long driveway....oh well, what's one more rut?
2. gutters installed on the old farmhouse and the modern garage to help divert the water away from the foundations and route it out to what will, one day, be the pond....nice enough guy, clearly NOT a long-term gutter installation guy, despite his truck advertising that promotes his talents...put the ends on backwards, and had one corner, a very critical corner of the guttering, that leaked badly....came back twice to repair it without luck...and told me, "Judy, you will need to raise the house two inches to get the gutter corner to not leak..." Yes, yes, of course I thought he was kidding... he was not...he was quite serious! Well, I might well be raising the house to repair the failing floor joists, but I seriously doubt I will be raising the house to correct a gutter installation.....
3. a water softening system installed -- got a pretty good deal on Craigslist, and the guy installed it while I was at church one Sunday...bartered with him, getting a discount on the system and installation in return for selling him the swingset that was on the property....when I got to the site to see the work he'd done, it was pretty good...OK, one of the pipe connections leaked, but other than that, AND the fact that he took the old water softener without asking (I had him return it to me) AND the fact that he left my poor wet yard with two MORE gigantic, ugly ditches from where HIS truck sank trying to get the swingset out....well, maybe NOT such a good deal on Craigslist, after all....
4. an office trailer I bought for my eBay operation from a guy on Craigslist, moved to the property ....got a decent deal, my new neighbors offered to move it to my property, and the seller promised to have everything in working order so it could be towed...again, I was at church when the actual move occurred...and the seller had NOT fixed the trailer jack stand so it could be adjusted...so, it was more work for the guys moving it, AND yet another thing to fix....not high priority, so it will settle to the bottom of the to-do list...
5. a new pressure tank installed -- mine gave out about two weeks after I started living here...the plumber was very good and reasonably priced and did clean up after himself...but he took the head from my old water softener...he DID ask later, if it was OK that he took it, but really... what is with these people?
6. hughesnet high speed satellite service moved from my old house to this property....installer declared the dish already mounted on the chimney here would not work... needed to install a new pole....OK...$125 for a $20 pole...seriously... AND he ran the cable right across one of my open tranches I had dug for water diversion...now I get to either creatively go under the cable, or find a way to lengthen the cable... UGH... job cost me twice what was quoted, the guy put the pole in a different location from what I authorized....
7. carport installed next to the garage....12 X 31 lean-to style....after waiting more than six weeks from the date of ordering, last Tuesday was my big installation day...three industrious men arrived and I showed them where I wanted it...they asked if they could start the front, about 20 inches forward from where I had marked, and I deferred to their expertise....I left for my 3-hour meeting with my divorce attorney and returned to find a lovely carport....with one of the legs positioned DIRECTLY in the middle of the walk-through door to the garage...UMMMMM.....I really could not believe my eyes, but it was so, and the three industrious men were long gone.... I wrote a letter of complaint to Carolina Carports, including photos of the clever installation, and today, having received no response from the company, pulled up the 2 1/2 foot pegs and had a friend with a winch move the whole building back 20 inches...
And...just BECAUSE mine is a Murphy's Law kind of life, Friday, at the P/L hearing for my divorce, the judge would not hear any "fault" arguments (that has to wait for the "equitable distribution hearing")...and did NOT look at the sheet I was required to complete that specified all of my monthly income and bills...all he cared about was my salary, John's salary, mortgage payments and car payments... and with that, he ruled that I have to pay John, the man who NEVER would work during our marriage, $2200 per month in spousal support, retroactive to February 15, 2010...and maintain his health insurance for him at my expense....UMMMM...where exactly am I supposed to come up with this money, I wonder??? Well, OK, I suppose I will be able to write more blog entries from a jail cell when they incarcerate me for non-payment of "spousal support." GEEZ!
Well, but today was another day...I got the opportunity to work myself ragged to afford to maintain John's lifestyle, while I try to make livable the old farmhouse....so I can MAYBE sell the other house....so I can lessen my financial burden....while John sits on his butt, doing nothing, as he has for more than 10 years now...claiming, "I cannot leave my comfort zone" as his latest excuse for not being able to work...
I dunno, maybe it's just me, but this is one wacko world....tradesmen that charge thousands for work that is pathetically performed, attorney's who want to settle so badly, they allow crazy awards to deadbeat leaches, and deadbeat leaches who SERIOUSLY act as if they are OWED something because they managed to be abusive, drunks who refused to contribute to the acquisition of the assets they now CLAIM as 50% theirs, and the Commonwealth of Virginia, who stipulates that "the award of spousal support is not to punish the spouse paying the support, but to lessen the financial impact of divorce on the spouse with the lower salary.".....UMMMMM... well, OK, but Really, isn't this sort of like the guy who wants me to raise the house to fix his poorly installed gutters?
But, I am sure, one day I will look back on all of this and have a good laugh....
Nevertheless, I am enjoying the old farmhouse and the couple of goats that are WAY more trouble than I am sure they are worth!
I decided to get some kids to help with the yard work. I looked on-line, on Craigslist to see who was selling some and found several. Only one was truly local, so I contacted her to get the details. That was Friday.
On Saturday we worked on building small enclosures for the kids to hang out in, you know, to get out of the rain and such. As seems to be the norm, nightfall interrupted our progress, and the remainder of the construction had to be put off.
Today, was the day we were to meet the kids for the first time. We arrived early afternoon and I was impressed with the set-up. The parents were on-site and mingled with the kids. Everyone looked happy and healthy. The folks selling the kids were very nice and we spent more than an hour there, learning about the basics of raising kids. When we left, it was with the assurance they would help us any way they can... all we need do is call.
Back at the farmhouse, excited to see the kids frolicking about, I hooked leads around trees and hooked each kid's collar to the lead. The male screamed indignantly at this collar on his neck and the constraint of the lead, and he wasn't crazy about the fact his mother wasn't there, either! He bucked and squawked and cried in his loud voice.
Next was his sister. Smaller than her brother, but every bit as indignant, the female fought the collar and lead, but with more success than her brother. In less than a minute, she had escaped her collar and bolted from the "safe ground" where I had determined they should start their familiarization with their new home. Horrified, I grabbed some of the feed and headed over to try to coax her back. My friend suggested we just leave the two alone, and go about our business. His thought was the two would stick together, even though one was completely free to run off.
As it turned out, my friend was right (of course) and as we built a temporary fence to corral them for the night, they stuck together, enthusiastically munching the undergrowth of the woods...doing the work for which I had purchased them. An hour or so later, the fence was up and we led the male inside. As anticipated, the female took only about two minutes to run into the open "gate" to be with her brother. And with that, we had them both corralled.
Tonight is their first night in the new place and we'll see how they do. When I left them, they were getting comfortable on the straw. Their temporary shelters are there, in case it should rain, but when I pulled out, they were sleeping under the tree on the straw.
And so begins the adventure.... the farm has its first two farm animals....
And even though I spent 20 years raising children, I'm only now entering the brave new world of raising kids..... no kidding.
The past few weeks have been busy. The old farmhouse, charming as she is, or at least, as she will be after a lot of work, is still a very old structure, sitting on some very wet ground. It is clear to me that her former inhabitants did not experience the record-breaking rainfalls we have experienced in these past few months. What with all of the snow and rain, the tasks we had to undertake prior to even getting to the house renovation, included many, many truckloads of road dirt and gravel, installing rain gutters on the main structure and the detached garage, emergency septic system repairs, and over 500 feet of trenching, dug with shovels, to divert the excessive water away from the structures and the overwhelmed septic system.
Now, understand, all of this work had to be performed after my regular job working hours. Suffice to say, digging trenches in the dark, working on septic tanks and drain fields in the dark, became the norm. Add to this schedule, the hours and hours of time spent in the divorce process, and I can honestly say, I was burning the candle at at least three ends!
April 1 was my first court date. I was attempting to have my husband's attorney removed on the grounds that by representing my husband, having previously represented me in my first divorce, as well as in several real estate transactions, and in dealings regarding my current home, this attorney was operating under a clear conflict of interest. As it turned out, there was only one witness in the motion to dismiss hearing (me) and both my current attorney and this attorney whom I had employed variously over a 12 year, questioned me. The judge asked me some questions and then asked both counsel to join him in chambers. When he returned, he did what I knew he'd do, the minute he entered the court that day. He declined to remove this attorney as my husband's counsel.
While this might sound a little odd to the casual observer, I mean, no fewer than three qualified attorneys had provided me opinions that this attorney SHOULD have declined to accept the case, what is not as obvious is the local, small town, good old boy environment. What I do know is there was no court reporter in the room, nor any mechanical recording being performed. Though I was sworn in and was testifying under oath, there is no transcript of either my words or those of the attorneys or the judge...... I'm still trying to wrap my brain around this whole process that results in a judge's decision, without any official record of what was said...under oath, or otherwise. At any rate, I will be appealing etc........
In early March, my husband had called begging me to work out a settlement agreement with him, which, again, I spent MANY hours trying to do. In the end, and even though the settlement agreement was EXACTLY what he'd said he wanted, he did not follow through...in fact, 10 days after he called, requesting the settlement, he abruptly stopped his correspondence. I suppose his greed simply overtook him and he is certain he will be awarded better terms by the courts. We'll just have to wait and see. Nevertheless, I did NOT appreciate the additional waste of time this little exercise afforded me.
Still, I kept working toward getting into my old farmhouse, and kept my eye on the treasures being offered up on Craigslist -- treasures that would be useful at the old farmhouse. Last Saturday included a trip to a nearby town where my friend and I secured some tools from one such Craigslist seller. We hit it off with this seller, Hank, and made plans to get together again this past Saturday to play some music and share a pizza.
Before I knew it, we were in Holy Week and choir practice and church services took over. Still, Saturday we made the time to enjoy a beautiful afternoon of music and shared meal with Hank and his wife at their home. The weather was finally delightful, the rain taking a well-earned vacation for a few days.
We left Hank's and headed to the old farmhouse to drop off our latest Craigslist "finds". My new neighbor was in his yard as we drove up and he and his wife invited us to eat some supper with them. I still had a little time before I had to leave for Easter Vigil service, so, though not hungry, we accepted the invitation and shared a second meal in a single day with new friends. Technically, we did not get a lot of work done on Saturday, but the day of rest was very welcome.
Easter Day dawned another beauty and, after the morning service, it was yet another trip to another Craigslist "find." This time, the seller had some hinges that could be used in some of the old farmhouse projects. When he was selling us the hinges, the seller, Charlie, asked, "If you don't mind my asking, what are you going to do with all of these hinges." We explained about the old farmhouse I had recently purchased and which my friend is helping me renovate, and Charlie got real excited. He told us the story of the old farmhouse in which he'd been raised, the farm owned by his grandparents, and on which is now a huge mall. He described his sadness at the old farmhouse being torn down and told us of his father's determination to keep and reuse everything that was able to be salvaged. Charlie then produced a box full of beautiful, century old door handles with porcelain knobs, and locks from the doors in that old farmhouse. This little box of treasures he GAVE to me to use in the renovation.
Back at the my old farmhouse that Easter afternoon, we installed the gate I'd purchased nearly a month ago, but which had sat patiently awaiting installation -- taking its turn behind all of the "water related tasks." And after the gate installation, it was on to the task that had us intrigued from the very beginning. The tearing up of the sagging floor of the old farmhouse. The task is not an easy one. Others have performed "updating" over the years, and their updating, though presumably intended to improve the home, actually only succeeded in covering up some problems that should have been addressed. We intend to address them.
The filthy carpet and underlying padding were removed first, exposing OSB board, likely installed in the 1980's or 1990's. Under the OSB was another layer of carpet, this a VERY colorful pattern of reds and oranges and probably from the late 70's or early 80's. Below this layer of colorful carpet we found the original floorboards.....in VERY bad repair, showing damage from both water and termites/insects. Of course we already knew we'd find the damaged floor joists, and that is why we decided to expose the beams and joists by removing all of the first story flooring..... We managed to pull up 2 1/2 sections out of a total of 14 sections in the living room.... The going was much slower than speculated, and I think it will be VERY likely I will STILL be writing about this floor repair a month from now...
At the end of the day, as I crawled into bed and reflected on my Easter, I decided it was a good one indeed. No, it did not include the traditional Easter dinner at Dad's with the rest of the family. But the morale boost of FINALLY being able to install the gate, and start the floor removal in the old farmhouse, was long overdue. The meals and music shared Saturday helped make my Easter weekend a truly lovely one.
