Right?

Well, mea culpa. Mea Frickin' culpa. I should have read the news before I posted my blog. Seems I have my priorities a little screwy, what with my twitching, heroin-addict acting jonesing for my computer.

I didn't know there had been a hurricane. I didn't know there had been a hurricane the kind of which wreaks utter destruction and brings out the total savageness of certain kinds of people. And then Irish (who has never been to Block Island, or probably Maine for that matter, but who knows the Warbler longer than any of y'all) kindly but firmly reminded me as well that it could be worse: I could be standing on my roof. I could have been with 30,000 poor souls in the Superdome - my heart aches for those folks. Except for those extreme bastards who used this heinous situation to prey on the souls and bodies of others simply because lawlessness suits their nature. Hey, it wouldn't surprise me if some of those perps are later found floating face down as well.

Anyway, my situation's bad. But it's not a total loss of life, limb, property and loved ones. Right? Right?

And then...

And then. My husband informs me that the older section of our life-savings purchased house (quite possibly part of the newer, as well) doesn't have insulation. Allow me to rephrase. Our house - the entire NORTH wall (that's right BI'ers who are incredibly in tune with the weather and heating fuel costs) of our lovely, drafty, tilted old house, has no insulation. Our house in Maine. One of the colder states in the union. No insulation. And the chimney's in poor condition so we're not to use the small Jotul (wood) stove. I have commanded (but not like Everett commands - he's had practice, I can tell) the man to whom I am legally bound to place holes in the wall of the house so I may tell if there is insulation anywhere in any of the rooms in which my children do or will reside - temporarily or in perpetuity. It's not like he can't fix 'em, right?

Some folks have suggested we sue. Did you know that suing people actually takes money up front? That's why we're not. Suing, I mean. We can't. We also can't rip the house apart to insulate because we don't have enough green to put it back together.

But at least I'm not standing on a roof.

Friends, I'm a bit beaten down. And it hurts. So many of you don't know the kind of fighter I once was. But, like any fighter, you can only go so long before those punches start to slow you down. Even worse, I seem to be losing my song. I stare at the keyboard and think "I really need to get that up. Playing will make me feel more myself, it always does"..but then I think "Why bother? I can't play it when the baby's awake and I certainly can't play when he's asleep." And then I think "I'm bored with the same old songs." And then I realize that I haven't been able to write any news ones for a while now. It feeds itself, really.

But instead of feeling sorry for myself, I'm going to try and imagine how, if I were in a situation like those poor folks in New Orleans, I'd probably give anything to be dealing with my problems here and not theirs there.

And if gas went from $2.17 here on Wednesday to $3.49 today, I shudder to think what kind of gouging prices are happening on BI.

And, Sam, as soon as the price of oil gets a little lower, I will call that furnace guy to come test the furnace. And, hell, a six pack is always a good idea. I have to heat this place whether I can afford it or not, my babies deserve that. But if you do come up this way, please let me know, I'd love to offer you a cup of coffee. It'd probably have to be somewhere like Mae's Cafe, but I could still offer. (grin) Heck, I could probably get all my friends still in cities to come out for a visit and they'd eat up how rustic it all is.

Ah well...a little more of this merlot and I'll start singing "Everything Is Beautiful". In it's own way, right?

Nightmare On Edwards Street

Why, exactly, does God hate me?

There are really, truly, agonizingly hideous people on the face of this earth who are walking around without lightening striking them down (smoting is always welcome, Big Guy), but instead He's pickin' on me? This is just not fair.

So. I'm here. In Bath. A lovely town, I suppose. The house is in even far worse shape than I have described before. The floor of the old section of the house (you know, where my daughter's bedroom and the living and dining room are) slopes toward the middle - there's a lolly column holding it up underneath crossing an old 4 x 8 supporting the even older floor beam. One out of four outlets in the living room worked. Half of one other, which I shortly (no pun intended) learned is a bad thing. The dining room has no working outlets whatsoever and the kitchen...well, you just wait until I put pictures of the kitchen on my website and THEN you'll know what I'm talking about. I don't know how people can live in an environment like this and be so (bad language alert) God-damned disgusting. I would be ashamed to have strangers see that I think this is "leaving the house broom clean". For four months - off and on - people have been cleaning this house and it is Disgusting. I found the paint in the kitchen is actually half a shade lighter than originally thought (still baby shit green, but a lighter baby shit green) and there are food stains in places that...well, I don't know how they got there. The kitchen is huge and the work space takes up approximately 1/8 of the entire area. What with the dish drainer (yep, I'm the dishwasher), the baby bottle rack and the Brita pitcher (geez, do I miss my BI well water or what?) that is the total extent of counter space. I stopped cooking when I found that the range hood dripped ooey brown goo onto the stove - more so when it got warm. Finally hubby #2 (cuz I'm seriously considering options the way I'm feeling these days) rips the damn thing out of the wall, stuffs the hole with paper towels and I like it a heck of a lot better. We finally gave up on the refrigerator (the mold could not be removed from the freezer) and bought a new one - but getting it in the house was an interesting experience. The massive amounts of biblical rains that happened here last week taught me all about sump pumps. Specifically: a) what they are (cuz I didn't have the slightest clue what it was or why I needed it) and b)what one does when the on/off switch of a sump pump doesn't work and your basement needs to be drained once an hour (once a half hour for the first day of my new education) - by the way, I don't own rain boots and the first morning showed 11 to 12 inches of sewage and lime infested water. How happy go lucky am I now, huh? Cosmetic work needed my ass.

Last week-end, for my husbands weekly visitation, he went downstairs (for lack of a better term) to get the cable ready for the cable guy (who is from...wait for it...MISSOURI!) and starts cutting dead wire out of his way, etc. Two small electrocutions later...he did manage to get the living room lights and outlets restored. Apparently the electrician did 3/4 of the job. I'm hoping the upstairs hall light (it's on Colleen's side, not like she actually uses it) and dining room light will be restored this week-end.

The baby (who climbs stairs now, if you can believe it, and he's not yet eleven months - she bragged) is having a very, very, very difficult time adjusting. Every Monday when Daddy leaves, his behavior and sleep patterns get more and more distraught. Last night he slept six hours (Mom got three and two of those were in and out cuz I heard unfamiliar noises and was wondering whether I should draw the sword kept by the bed) with three hours of nap today that I forced him into and he still didn't want to sleep tonight (he should be sleeping about 14). The outgoing ped's office said that everyone he's known and seen (he saw his father on a daily basis and throughout the course of the day as well) has suddenly disappeared - this week he's alone in the house with me (don't even go there about the teen-ager, I'm WAY over that, too) and he has no guarantee that if he goes to sleep, Mommy won't be gone and never come back, too. Well, if that doesn't get 'cha, then you're one cold hearted bas**rd.

On a positive note...

...

...there's a frog in the "pond" in my front yard. And there's a train not terribly far from here that let's out it's whistle at night and makes me feel like I'm back home where I grew up. It's lonely and adventurous and so very comforting. It also makes me hum "Blues in the Night" under my breath so the baby (who has to share my room, unfortunately) doesn't wake up...but at least I still play to an audience.

I miss life as I knew it - in all it's forms. And I very much miss the Scarecrow, the Tin Man and the Cowardly Lion. Even Toto only comes for visits. (Jinx and Boobala, however, love the new house and wish never to leave.)

I've been without TV, radio and computer for almost a month, so give me a few days to learn what's been happening in the world. I also have a great deal to tell you about the kids here!

At least we're safe and the roof doesn't leak. But I never say "come hell or high water" anymore as I live in both right now.