Grump Central: Weekly Posts Fall 2022

26 November 2022

And a good time was had by all.

19 November 2022

Now, that's a kitchen! Still plenty left to do, but I'm on track to hit the 90% mark by Thanksgiving. More details at the sub-site.

12 November 2022

Things are getting unexpectedly hectic around here: I'd planted some seeds, and they're all sprouting at once. The mini-split heat pump installation dropped into an opening the contractor had on Monday. Meanwhile, I showed my kitchen to the fellow who'd been hauling away my bulk trash, explaining that the whole lot (appliances, cabinets and countertops) was free to anyone he knew who'd pay for its removal. He found someone within a day (I'd expected it might happen after Thanksgiving). So, I immediately had to start ordering the new kitchen appliances and cabinets. And with Thanksgiving a mere two weeks away, I needed to to plan the renovation very quickly, carefully and efficiently. (Wrinkle: a flooring company wanted $255 to ship $78 worth of spare flooring to me [!!!], so I had to arrange for someone to go pick it up). Needless to say, I'll be in high gear for the next two weeks. At least it'll keep my depression at bay...

Oh, and today's image is a teeny bit of drama from a few days ago. While sitting at my computer, I heard a loud crash, and looked outside to see a front-end loader had fallen off of the carrier brought in to take it away. It wasn't a good day for somebody.

5 November 2022

It's a really good thing I decided to upgrade to a tankless water heater (or possibly not, depending on one's perspective). Despite assurances to the contrary from the former owner, the existing tank was not only woefully inadequate, but also a senior citizen in the water heater world. Worse, after removing it, I made a most unpleasant discovery: underneath the tank were the remains of untold generations of mice, including dozens of half-eaten acorns, large amounts of waste, and... a recently deceased resident. It all made for a gruesome and gross cleanup project, followed by the replacement of a chewed, rotted sub-floor.

But it didn't stop there... the process of uncovering the water heater nightmare also revealed other plumbing problems, such as two leaks in the main water supply line, as well as a multitude of electrical issues. I've been making daily Amazon orders to get the parts I've needed, and relying heavily on their next-day delivery promise. Needless to say it's not been a great week, although I did finish the bookcase.

29 October 2022

If I zoom in and carefully crop photos of my surroundings, things can look quite nice. So, I've been applying the same approach to my mental perception of my new life as well, and it does help make it more tolerable, at least a bit anyway. This "tunnel vision" does have its drawbacks, of course, as just the act of doing it draws attention to itself. But I have no options; it is what it is. The only things I can change are the surfaces of my immediate environment, which is what I've been doing since I got here.

I'm also feeling uneasily conventional: I have a sofa, and a dining room set, and many of the other trappings of an "ordinary" person. Strangely, it's a sensation I've not had since I was in my 30s, and it's an odd, curious feeling, to put it simply. Neither good nor bad, it's just there, like the sound of the garbage truck doings its rounds on Friday mornings, and other stuff I must get used to for the remainder of my days.

Curiously, some things remain the same, like my grocery delivery service, and truck drivers having trouble finding me because Google Maps sends them to the wrong side of the development. I've already gotten several calls: "I can't find you." I tell them, "Just turn around, stay on the road, and it will circle around past me." "Oh, there you are." Yup, there I be.

22 October 2022

I confess to having slipped into a seriously depressed state. Try as I might to create a new life from my new circumstances, I'm failing at every turn. All this place does is remind me of what I've lost, what I've given up, what I've traded for a dozen or so more months of so-called life. This isn't life for me; this is excruciatingly slow death. I'm wishing I'd died amongst the trees. What I'd give to be with them just a little while longer. It's why one of the first things I did to my new home was install an enormous (22-foot) woodland mural. Alas, no one makes one big enough for me, because I'd cover every square inch of wall with it. At least I've finally closed on the house—nearly a month after the originally planned date—so that's behind me now. But I still hear Bobby scratching at the door. That may take a while to go away.

15 October 2022

I'm attempting to return to some sense of a normal life, although the feeling yet eludes me. I've also noticed that, after his initial burst of curiosity about his new home, Zack appears to be slipping into a somewhat depressed state, and I cannot deny that it mirrors my own mood. Still, I press on with making this place "my own," as more than a few friends have advised. And so I've been updating the End of the Line sub-site with my progress, such as it is. Of note: I've still not closed on my house. The buyer has been beset by no end of bureaucracy from the county over some fine points regarding the driveway; they're essentially putting the entire burden of their incompetence on him. Which means, technically, I still own both properties. But hopefully not for long; I really need to get this all behind me ASAP.

11 October 2022

I have arrived on the other side. It was a long, grueling process that is detailed in a new sub-site, End of the Line.

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