Chaos, Pure and Simple

How to summarize the winding paths of life that have been trod since the last blog entry?
Not very easily, and not in short order.
When I say I will try to keep my English teacher verbosity down, I get even more verbose. I shall write what seems fitting, right and just. For those of you who prefer itemized bullets vs. prose or narrative, you should know by now that that’s never going to happen. Get cozy, this installment’s a doozy!

Two more weeks were lost when no block was being made due to cold overnight temps. An additional two were lost for no apparent reason. To ignore all the nasty details, suffice it to say I fired Rex and the crew this past Wednesday night. There was lots of acrimony on both sides. We still have some materials to settle up, like the custom-made kiva doors and the barn wood for the living room ceiling. I suspect he’s going to want me to go pick it up from his place. That can be arranged.

Meanwhile, as I sit and survey my dream crashing down around me that night, I made a few phone calls, send out an email or two and by the next day I have my peeps calling with suggestions, offers of help, and soothing words. I could never make it in this life without my friends; on that point I am very clear. My deeper than deepest thanks to each and every one of you who scrambled alongside me to patch together a solution! Not that the problem is solved, mind you, but I’m certainly not stressing about it. Mildly concerned? Yes. But those plummeting interest rates do a lot to keeping me smiling. I guess I should thank Dubya for that bit of help, eh? Naaaaaw. He still sucks.

So, the house is still incomplete as far as the walls go. The bank’s not thrilled, but neither am I. It’ll get done. I’ve been promised. And, I believe.

For Rex to come and get his equipment that was up here he had to deliver my five, twenty-foot long vigas that will be holding up the roof over the living room. They’re massive! They still need to be stripped fully, and have the knots where the limbs were cut off removed and be hefted, or craned, into place, but all in all I’m glad they’re up here now. I'll get to hone my chainsawing skills, if I ever get that pile of dirt sifted. I'm about halfway done with it, actually!

Another disappointment is that the Discovery Channel is not going to feature the house in an episode of its soon-to-be-made show Renovation Nation. Mostly ‘cause I fired my work crew. Oh well. I wasn’t too excited with the prospect of a bunch of the locals coming up here to oogle the place anyway. I wasn’t concerned about it THAT much since Direct TV, UPS and FedEx all have trouble finding the place, and they have directions! It would’ve been fun to have been on TV, though.

The last time I was promised a shot at being on TV is when I was playing rugby for Sonoran Women’s rugby team; the one I started after being kicked off the University of AZ’s women’s rugby team. (Yes, back in the Dark Ages of the late 1970’s. I was getting in trouble even back then.) We were asked by the Eleanor Rugby team from Pasadena to come play a game against them that was going to be shot for a show they had back then called Real People. We made the trip, played the game, got filmed, drank the first 35 pitchers of beer that, I think it was Jane Pauley actually, bought for us after the game, then drank some more and awaited the phone call telling us when the episode was going to air.

Women’s rugby teams around the nation were all waiting with beer-tainted breath to see us represent the whole motley lot of the rugby world. The week it was supposed to air it got cancelled due to a writers’ strike. We tried to get copies of the footage, but they couldn’t release it during the strike, which lasted FOREVER, and by the time it was over, it had been archived, never to be seen. Virginal video. Imagine! In Hollywood! And of women’s rugby no less. Talk about oxymoronics! ;)

Now that I’m done with that flashback, I surely thought that since this year’s writers’ strike was over that I would get my Warhol-rationed minutes of fame. Not meant to be. Guess I’ll keep on teaching.

The burrowing owls that live around here have been singing me to sleep this past week. The weather’s warming up nicely during the day and staying fairly warm for most of the night so all the hibernaters are making more frequent appearances. The coyote packs seem to have more voices singing to each other, so they’ve been procreating and happy up here in this no hunting zone. And one cow has been separated from the rest of the herd who were hauled out of here a couple of weeks ago for we-know-not-why. She’s been moo-ing in such a sad, lonely way for days now I really want to put her out of her misery. But that would constitute cattle rustling. Still a hanging offence in these parts. So, I leave her be and hope she finds the rest of the herd, or moves on and serenades someone else. And Baby Bun the bunny rabbit came out and said hi to me this morning at dawn.

It may be chaos here, but it’s MY chaos! Pure and simple. Pure and simple chaos—my life defined.

Expect another lag in postings as it may be another month before the rest of the work can begin. There will be a full crew of 4 honest, hard-working folks here doing it, so it should fly along. Realizing that we’re behind schedule five months now, and only had an effective four months of accumulated work really opened my eyes. This really HAS been like giving birth.

Yipes!
Many mananas from now…