Everything is Just a Little Overwhelming

Whelp. As someone who has read through the Bible more than once in her life, I feel like it's currently some very interesting times. Of course, whenever I get too wrapped up in that, I think of my mom telling me (I believe around the time the first Gulf War started and I was a senior in high school) that this happens and will keep happening. She then went on to tell me of the mania about Revelation when Israel was reestablished in the 50s.

It's a good grain of salt.

And I know, ultimately, God's in control whether or not this is the big end or just another series of steps in the gradual slide thereto.

But I can't say there haven't been some prolonged periods of reminding myself of that lately.

It doesn't help that eldest is a senior, and as we creep closer to the end of his school year (he has only 5 weeks left in his final classes) I want to pull him on my lap and pretend he's the three year old who loved to snuggle. (He is neither three (obviously) nor does he like to snuggle any more. In fact, if I can coerce him into allowing me to hug him once a week, I consider it a win.) (I don't coerce. I ask. Sometimes he says yes.) He's headed to what will be prom for him this weekend (a local Christian group that does dances) and just...all the feels. But I am excited about what lies ahead for him. So there's that, too.

Throw in that Dad is now firmly settled here and his old house is empty, buffed and polished, and officially on the market and it's all just a lot of change.

Change is fun? Or something.

But right now, I'm calling that the reason for the dearth of posts. Lots going on. Not a lot of time to ponder and process any of it, let alone blog about it. (Plus, I question if it's interesting to anyone other than me. Which, to be fair, hasn't stopped me in the past. But sometimes I think I should care more about that than I do.)

Saturday Sundries

With apologies to Robbo, because I believe he originated the title.

Today's exciting undertaking is the taxes. Whee. Mostly this involves me sitting in the same room as hubs while he swears and then occasionally giving him a number from one of my various writing income or expense sources. Then I stick around while he does the actual income and occasionally throw chocolate at him.

It's good times.

After we finish that, since it's shaping up to be a lovely day, I think we may start doing some of the landscaping that needs doing after all the construction for Dad's addon. (Right now, we have huge swaths of mud. We would like to have something other than mud there but prefer something that doesn't need mowing. So we bought some wildflower and low-grow ground cover seed and will see what we see.

Beyond that, we need to organize in the basement under the addon to find the things Dad's missing. And I'd like youngest to clean his room, which I think is actually going to need a full reset wherein we drag everything but his bed and dresser OUT of the room, go through it and get rid of probably 90% of it, and then carefully load back in only what he's actually currently interested in. ADHD man. I'm reasonably convinced that the show Hoarders is really only people with severe unmedicated ADHD who also don't have family members to help them before it's an issue.

And this is the level of fun and excitement that's usual around here, which is why the dearth of blogging.

And Papa Makes Five

Today marks the end of the "make it so Dad can live here" extravaganza. He is O-fficially moved in. (Well, there's a bit more stuff to bring from his other house tomorrow, but he's staying here tonight and his bedroom and living area are set up, so even he considers that he lives here now.)

And now, we begin the joy of getting the house prepped for sale and then, please Jesus, selling it quickly. (Not that we're in a rush, mind you, but selling a house has never been a fun or easy process in our family so I approach it with great gobs of dread. And also strange optimism that maybe this time it won't be worse than ...whatever the most horrible thing you can imagine is.)

In the last week, we have have filled 3 30-yard dumpsters with various and sundry crap from the basement. Donated at least 3, probably 4, minivan (with no middle row seats in) stuffed to the gunnels, and still the basement of the addition is going to be basically full. The long-term project will be to whittle that down to less overwhelming, but at least he fits in the space we built for him, which he obviously would not have if we hadn't done the winnowing.

Stress is the name of the game right now.

So tomorrow is the last bit of movers moving things.

Thursday we meet with the realtor in the morning and the flooring guy in the afternoon.

Friday the cleaners come to do the move out deep clean.

I have a call in with a handyman company that does painting as well as deck repairs (both needed), we need to schedule a power wash of the outside, get new faux shutters for the outside, get the gutters cleaned...all that jazz.

Good times. Good times.

I am, however, glad that at I am not the one moving this time. And honestly, Dad's rolling with it pretty well. So good on him. The boys are elated to have him here, as are the dogs. So all's well that ends.

Sometimes I'm am certain I have lost my mind.

We have our two sleepy pups, both miniature schnauzers, which is in my opinion about the perfect size of dog.

Of course, youngest boy is...exuberant. So occasionally the pups are not as thrilled with him because he has big love for small dogs and they want none of it. So occasionally, hubby and I discuss the idea of a slightly larger dog more specifically for younger boy - possibly even having one trained to be an autism support dog, because he definitely could benefit from such a thing.

But it was always one of those, "Maybe we should consider" conversations. It wasn't something either of us had the cycles to really sit down and evaluate because our lives are insane enough right now. (Too insane, honestly. I'm ready for something to give and hopeful that it won't be my complete nervous system.)

Enter my father-in-law who, for no discernable reason, got himself a standard poodle puppy 14 months ago.

You see where this is going, right?

In a shocking turn of events to no one, he and his new wife are just not equipped to handle the exuberance and exercise needs of a poodle puppy.

And hubby, bless him, suggested that this was perfect for youngest.

I'm not saying he's wrong. I'm not saying that this isn't exactly who and what we need.

I am saying that while we're in the throes of finishing up the addition for my dad to move into and then working to move Dad from his basically 5000 square foot home into 1000 square feet (we have an additional 1000 square feet in the basement for storage but I'd really like to not have alllllll of the crap coming) and juggling a senior in high school who, oh yes, has realized that he really does need his meds because he spiraled into OCD madness for two weeks and so I'm working to get that all back on board and new therapy and who ends up doing all the heavy lifting for these things?

Me.

But hey. Let's throw in a 14 month old enormous dog (because I swear he's larger than standard poodles are supposed to be, because why wouldn't he be?) for me to train, more correctly housebreak, and find and arrange an evaluation for service dog training. Sure. I can handle that.

No worries.

(Narrator: There are plenty of worries. So, so many worries.)

It's fine. 

I'm fine.

Various Sundries

I see the SAVE Act is out there in the news again (or so it seems from the ranting I was assaulted with when, against my better judgement, I opened up Faceplant to try to check a group.) I am pro-voter id - seems like a non-brainer to me. I'm also pro-people having a passport. Which would solve the problem. And our passports are not really any more (or less) expensive than the other countries in the world. (A quick google says there is basically nowhere that you can get a passport for free.) (And honestly I spent very little time on this because I just don't think my opinions on things in politics matter anymore. I live where the elected people of any ilk are all fundamentally on the other side to a huge extreme, so even calling/writing them is pissing in the wind. I do it. But that's more out of obstinacy than thinking it actually matters.)

I recall in one of my books, the heroine commented that she didn't even have a passport and my Kiwi editor remarked in the margin "How very American."

If the majority of the world requires its citizens to have a passport, why is that considered an undue requirement here?

Anyway, moving on.

We're in the throes of college registration details for the eldest and it causes a rather significant, and somewhat painful, clutch just under my heart. How did we get here?

I'm excited for him to spread those wings and fly, but I think it's not untoward that I'm also worried and nervous and just...a little melancholy. I'm gonna miss him. Even though I know he won't miss us - and he shouldn't. Just the times they are a-changin'.

Speaking of changin' - the extension for Dad is basically finished (final inspection done, tweaks thereafter have been made (still to code, just avoiding bureaucracy b/c changing midstream is hard)) and we're meeting with a moving company on Monday for an estimate to get him over here. It's getting real.

Betwixt the two, is it any wonder that the school days nightmares have started up again? No. No it is not.

Yay, stress. Or something.

Anyway, twill all be good in the end and I'm focusing on that rather than on the impending 2 year anniversary of losing my sister. I don't want to be that person who, in a very maudlin fashion, memorializes the death of her loved ones. But the fact is, two seems harder than one (I feel like maybe that was true with Mom, too) and I hate it. 

Grief. She is a b*.

Let it...sleet?

We got a lot of inches of...something Saturday night and all day Sunday. I think it might have started as snow, but by the time I was up around 6:30, it was already pinging as it fell. Our little electric snowblower, that I bought on a whim for $99 back when Woot was a fun website with interesting daily deals rather than yet another entry in the Bezos-sphere, still managed to do a reasonable job of clearing the driveway.

Of course, the poor thing was much more suited to our driveway in suburbia than the tenth of a mile we now have out here in the forest. But I much prefer the living out here, so there's that.

Regardless, we were able to get it clear, ish. Of course, it then continued to sleet or freezing rain or whatever thereafter. So we woke up this morning to an additional inch or so of impenetrable coverage on the driveway. So that's fun.

The boys and I were able to dig us out up at the street (amusingly, it was easier to get rid of the part we weren't able to clear with the blower because we didn't have an extension cord long enough than the part that we cleared yesterday. That part's still got the covering. And will until it thaws, I guess, because we're not sure how to get rid of it without a chisel.) So, should we need to get out, we can.

Every time this happens, I think we need to invest in a better snow removal option than we have. Then I remember this really only happens every five or so years, so it's not as though we're seriously inconvenienced every winter. Dunno. Since the primary clearing seems to always fall on me to assist and organize, and I'm not getting younger, I might push the issue a tad harder.

And of course, they're eyeing another storm for this coming weekend and throwing around words like "blizzard."

Snowpocalypse Watch

Whelp. It looks as alllll the weather prognosticators agree that we'll be seeing 6-10 this weekend, possibly more.

Hubs is still betting on nothing. And, to be fair, he has a point. So often around here they scream that the sky is falling and then, in fact, nothing at all falls out of the sky.

Even so, I did my grocery shopping early this week (they started the doom and gloom on Tuesday, I think, so I went to the store Wednesday. Seems like it was a good plan, since I just saw photos over on Faceplant of the line to get in Costco wrapping around the building.) (I wonder if people will actually find anything on the shelves when they get to the front of the line.)

If we DO get the 6-10 (or more), then everything will be shut down for at least a week. Possibly 2. Especially as, at least right now, I'm seeing more snow predicted for the middle of next week. 

We'll see what we see.

I'd be happy with snow. I'll be less happy if it turns to sleet after the 6-10, which is what they're saying might happen. That's no fun for anyone. Except, I guess, Vanilla Ice, since he'll rake in royalties again for everyone deciding they need to play Ice, Ice, Baby like they're the only people who thought of it.