I sit here in the little farmhouse amidst the renovations in the living room already finished. Beside my chair is the door that hides the furnace with it’s molding like the door, freshly painted glossy beige now topped with greasy smudges. Between the door’s molding and the small table that holds my iMac, a space approximately eight inches, sticks a tiny bug, one wing still attached. I squashed it last week. It has yet to fly or disappear. It remains not far from the smudges waiting for me to care.
This here is my resting place and my place of business away from the destruction, now reconstruction going on in the kitchen, its entry some twelve feet away. So here the smudges stay with the no longer flying bug beside them, and beside my refuge out into the world. They are an example of my efforts: those spinning wheels that struggle to move along.
We’re working on the kitchen putting up a ceiling and some new walls now that all of the plumbing and electric work is finally finished. We had to stop when the water did, that is the hot water to the shower, an unrelated issues, nonetheless one of those one step forward two steps back. Once fixed or should I say replaced with new fixtures we were back from the bathroom into the kitchen, that is until the septic started backing up in the yard.
So, I called the septic company and scheduled a pumping, I spent the afternoon digging to clear the cover, had it pumped, another unrelated issue, and then we got back to the kitchen. It was just another one of those ‘trying to take a step forward and ended up stepping in shit,’ pun intended.
Well, anyway, we’re supposed to be moving into Fred’s house, so, I’m getting this one ready to go on the market. You see he was good enough to buy a new dishwasher months ago first thing to be replaced in his house for me, but we’re not there and after waiting, and waiting, now eight years with dish pan hands, I had enough so, this week I bought a dishwasher for my little farmhouse.
I thought he’d be happy that I finally listened to him. For years he’s been saying I should buy a dishwasher. You see, I didn’t realize that would mean, now on our way out replacing the drain under the sink and wiring another electric line into the kitchen. It took a couple of days but we got it all worked out. Now, all I need to do is push a button. I no longer have to get angry at the fairy in the morning for not coming to wash those damn dishes in the night.
With there never being a dishwasher in old Janie’s farmhouse, she was just pleased to not have to go outside, simple woman, God bless her, we had to cut into the cabinets to slide in the dishwasher and cut holes for the lines, cover that darn mouse-hole with a piece of wood, no more draft, I know better that to say, “No more mice.” So, a few more days went by…
If you’re wondering about the garden… it was a spectacular crop now ended. I had some seedlings to plant but the heat got the best of me and I got discouraged. I have little left out there besides the weeds, some more carrots if I can find them, cilantro and basil planted on the edges and cucumbers that seem to be bigger than I’d ever seen, I turned into some lazy picker. But, as I planned I fed many families with my early crop and we have potatoes left for some while yet.
Its funny how when I write about the farm or this old house I become a different person, not the girl from Long Island, not the woman that earned those degree’s, sometimes I wonder who it is that I am, as time goes by, so far away.
Maybe tomorrow, I’ll clean those smudges and that bug stuck upon my wall. Maybe tomorrow I’ll get that job and say, “How did all that time go by?” and know it had, if only by all of those wrinkles in the mirror. But tonight Fred’s trying to find why the water in the bathroom sink is now only a mere dribble.
Whose to say what tomorrow will bring?