Tuesday, February 9, 2010

Dripping

February weekend
Not a magical phrase. I've floated back up from a brief dip into the winter blues pulled down even deeper by foreclosure failure anxiety. Those phenomena are still here but I am not taking them so personally now. I am glad to be back. I haven't seen any snowdrops but I could see the buds at the ends of tree branches last week. That reminds me I should cut back the roses now. February will not last forever.

Good
It took all weekend to complete the preparatory steps (because not having the gumption to go to the grocery store is one of my depression indicators) but Sunday evening I finally roasted a chicken and potatoes. That bird was just as salty, golden, crispy and delicious as I was hoping. The potatoes were not as lemony as last time. Note: poke more holes in the protruding end of the lemon.

Bad *and* Ugly
Visited three rentals two of which smelled of mildew. The brisk dripping of water from the ceiling by the entrance explained that in the first house. Another house featured a washer and dryer that had somehow been wedged behind a toilet and sink making them 1) an eyesore 2) only partially usable as the front-opening dryer door couldn't open all the way and what, did they stand on the toilet to load the washer?? 3) not removable by civilians. Decided that my husband and I are too old to live in any of these places.

The search continues. We may get to see a property this weekend, depending on the availability of the landlords. I am tempted to pin all my hopes on this little house. Such a pig in a poke, I have no idea what its condition is and I am sternly trying to lecture the wild hope out of myself. But it's in such a good location... Back to work I go, winnowing the Craigslist ads.

Genie
Is it possible to put a bunkbed genie back into the bottle? By dint of determined whining and finally covert disassembly of the two beds, Katy convinced us to set up their beds as bunkbeds. This was over my faint objections. Because I am lazy and do not wish to do any climbing in order to change the occasionally wet sheets. What I did not expect was that I have not slept through the night since. Even if she wakes up in time to go to the bathroom, K calls out for an escort as she gets down the ladder. So it's *my* turn to whine. This is taking the edge off my parental scheming powers. How do I undo this? Would the children's howling if we rescind the bunkbeds be worse than interrupted sleep? I'm having a hard time weighing these evils with my diminished capacity.

Errata
Misread newspaper headline: Local bitterness report. That might be interesting to know. Is bitterness going up or down? Is the big city more bitter than the small city?

--Bunkbed update. I told Katy last night about how I hadn't slept well since the onset of bunkbeds and how I didn't know if it could last. I told her to try and get herself to the bathroom without calling me. And she did. Of course then Lexi woke me up to pull up the covers she had kicked off. So I haven't really enjoyed any unbroken sleep yet. But still, it's progress.

5 comments:

Twisted Susan said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
Twisted Susan said...

Here's what I intended to write:
I bet half of us are right there with you waiting on the sheriff.

Nimble said...

TS: Thanks. I do feel I have plenty of company. Not the only train wreck in town.

The Subtle Rudder said...

Oh, man...yeah. I have that same depression indicator and a walloping case of mortgage blues, as well. You will find a place that's airy and rambling and feels like home; and you'll deal with the bank shit, like so many of us recession pioneers (really, it'll be something we'll laugh about at dinner parties a decade from now); and spring will finally come, and we'll all feel more coltish and hopeful.

The Subtle Rudder said...

Oh, and I love that new banner photo!