Early Tuesday morning I slid from bed and trudged into the kitchen. Taking care of a few things there, I was aware that my eyes felt strange, so I moved down the hall and peered into the bathroom mirror. My top eyelids had disappeared and in their place were small, white tufts of flesh. The lines of my face pointed inward and down. I looked like an angry bull.
I splashed cold water on the mess and moved on. For the fifth time in as many days, I made the one-hour drive to my new property. I arrived at 9:30, fatigued but hopeful, expecting to see the same bustle of activity that had been there yesterday.
Yesterday, there was the well guy digging trenches,
connecting white plastic pipes to bring water from the well to the house-to-be,
and then out to the garden areas I’d designated.
There were also the three electrical guys, working hard to make the right connections to bring me power to the building and power to the well.
So, here I am. No hustle and bustle, no guys with electrical wiring or gray conduit pipes, no one with white PVC pipes that will eventually bring water to my kitchen sink, bathroom tub and out back to the garden.
Why am I the only one here?
I decide to savor the quiet, enjoy the fresh morning air, the dew on the ground, and push aside doubts about what is going on. I sip on a drink, have a snack, look at the newspaper I’ve brought from home. On one of the uppermost sprigs of a cedar tree sits a mockingbird. Well, at least I can snap a few pictures on this gorgeous morning. So I run back to my truck and grab my camera. (See the photo at the top of this post.)
That done, my spirits begin to slip under the covers, where I’m wishing my body had stayed back home. What’s happened? I know the guys said they’d be back today.
When in doubt, mow, I always say. So, I put a little gas into the tank of my old mower, push the button for the choke, or the throttle, or whatever that thing is on the front of the mower, and I pull the crank. Okay, this is more like it. Progress. When you mow down the grass, or in this case weeds and wildflowers, you can see what you’ve done. You’ve made tracks and for a type-A type of girl, you can’t see too many tracks.
Finally, it’s midday. Time to give in, go home, where there’s other work to be done. Besides, my body’s aching; my heart is heavy. My two princes—my electrician and well guy—have left me alone at the altar. It’s one thing for the guy who put in my septic tank not to come back to spread that last mound of dirt. And it’s another thing for Kermit the contractor not to show up on Sunday. (See my previous post.) But Randy and Kevin? What’s up with that?
On the way home, it is a disgruntled bull that gives me a lift, helps to turn my day around. You never know where a little light will shine. Please go here: http://dancetheriver.wordpress.com/2011/10/25/the-moo-and-the-growl/ for my bull story.
Once I drive several miles from my property I am able to get cell phone reception and call my two princes. It’s then I discover the reasons I was the only one to show up this morning.
More next time! I’ll be keeping you posted.
Please also see my writing at http://wrinkledintime.wordpress.com and www.elderwomenmusings.com.
8 comments
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October 28, 2011 at 10:38 am
ernestine lawson
Love the image.
I traveled this road with you in the past.
If I had been your age I would have done what
you are doing.
Would have built a very small cottage to use for many ideas that I now have.
But hitting my 70’s it seemed everything in my life is fast forward
So went with my small cottage (which I love and is just the right size for One Woman and family – when they show:)
I keep repeating myself and probably will continue – but so pleased I found you and can travel along with you.
My oldest daughter lives in Tampa – 2 years now with attorney husband. Some idea of where you are located. I have an email on my journal….
October 30, 2011 at 3:28 am
madwomandancing
Ernestine, thanks, again for your comments. My hope for this building is to, one day, have it as a studio for myself. I’d really like to build something small and cozy, or move another building on the site, that I can call my home. That may or may not come to pass, and I’ve decided it doesn’t matter. I’ll be fine if I continue to live in this converted classroom for ever on!
October 28, 2011 at 12:18 pm
E.C.
Well flitter, I can hardly wait to find out why they didn’t show up. You teaser. lol
Great photos and narrative of the work going on around your home-place.
Here’s wishing you a pleasant and productive weekend! 🙂
October 30, 2011 at 3:31 am
madwomandancing
E. C., thanks so much. Oh, dear, when I left the “cliffhanger” ending, I didn’t consider the fact that the reason the guys didn’t show up isn’t very exciting! Nonetheless, I’ll share the rest of the story very soon, and make it as interesting as possible. By the way, I love your expression: “well, flitter.” Makes me think of a butterfly! You have a way with words!
October 29, 2011 at 12:11 am
Linda Smith (creativelife)
Ellen,
Great pictures. You have my curiousity…..tell me quickly ……
October 30, 2011 at 3:33 am
madwomandancing
Thanks so much for following along, Linda. As I wrote in the above comment to E. C., I didn’t consider the fact, when I left that cliffhanger ending, that the reasons the guys didn’t show up was not very exciting. I’ll do what I can to weave a good story from some scrappy strands!
October 29, 2011 at 2:10 am
writingfeemail
It is such a nice opportunity to have your blog to track this progress. I remember building my house and taking pictures of these things, like the one when the well digger hit water and released a plume into the air like Old Faithful. Like your overseer too, perched up there in the tree.
October 30, 2011 at 3:35 am
madwomandancing
Oh, my. That must have been a sight to see. It is quite the endeavor to have a construction project. Wish I could sail along and enjoy the process without becoming as fretful as I do!