What the Wind Blew In

April 9, 2021 — Pat Bertram

I had a lovely surprise today. I went outside as usual to check the weather, though I really didn’t have to — I could hear the strong winds and knew they would be pushing mountain air our way — but I wanted to see what if anything the wind blew into my yard. What I discovered was . . . workers!

I didn’t expect them today. The one worker who lives nearby comes on the weekend if he comes at all, and with the wind, I was sure they’d find a different job rather than battling with the weed blocker fabric that needs to go under the ornamental rock around the house and the breeze pathways.

And yet, here they are!

Apparently, it’s too windy to do any of their other work, especially putting on siding and trimming trees, so they came here to get caught up a bit. One is working outside and the other — lucky fellow! — is working in the basement out of the wind. I’m especially delighted with the work being done on the basement. It’s an old project that was never finished. The cement floor was put in, which I was most concerned about since the old crumbled concrete floor seemed so dangerous and gave the basement a dungeony feel. I haven’t really been concerned about the cracks in the walls being fixed since they are superficial, and more importantly from my standpoint, I won’t be using the basement for storage. If I do need it for storage, I have a much bigger problem than an unfinished project because I should be getting rid of things rather than accumulating more stuff.

I am concerned, though, about having the sump pump put in, which I reminded them about today. The water table here is high, and when there are copious rains, as there occasionally have been, basements get flooded. It’s sort of silly to be concerned about it during a time of great drought, but in my experience, droughts tend to end with huge rainfalls.

Still, whether necessary or not, it would be good to have one project completely finished.

We also talked about what to get to hang my tools, and once those racks are up, the inside of the garage should be completely finished. The gutters would then be the only extant garage project, but installing them is not a project for a windy day.

I am truly delighted with the paths that are going in. Not only will they add to my safety, they will define the yard as well as fill in a lot of the space I would otherwise have to care for. Right now, caring for the yard is not a problem. To be honest, it’s not a problem because I haven’t been doing anything to care for the lawn, but when I do need to start taking better care of my yard, a couple of patches of grass will be about all I can handle. And I do want some grass since it adds to the curb appeal. Besides, what’s the point of having a lawn mower if you never use it?

The paths aren’t far enough along to show in a photo — mostly all you’d see is the gray fabric, so here are photos of the hen and chicks I planted last year. They are doing surprisingly well considering the harsh winter we had.

As you can see, the dandelions are also doing well.

***

What if God decided S/He didn’t like how the world turned out, and turned it over to a development company from the planet Xerxes for re-creation? Would you survive? Could you survive?

A fun book for not-so-fun times.

Click here to buy Bob, The Right Hand of God.

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Waiting

April 5, 2021 — Pat Bertram

Today has been a day of waiting. My car was supposed to have finally been made road ready by this evening, but even after a day of waiting — another day of waiting — the car still isn’t finished. It started several weeks ago when I took the car in because it kept bucking and stalling. It turns out that the spark plugs had burned out way too fast because of a leaky carburetor. (Too much air in the gas makes the engine run hot.) He ordered a carburetor, which took a couple of weeks. When it came in, I made an appointment for my day off. He likes having the car all day, and he leaves in the evening before I get off work, which pretty much limits his ability to work on my car.

When I showed up for the appointment, he couldn’t work on it. He was backed up, and because of the heavy rain, I didn’t mind waiting another week.

So the next week when I took it in, he changed out the carburetor, but didn’t have time to adjust the valves, and without that adjustment, the car runs like an old rusted out truck that hadn’t been maintained for decades. So, another appointment for today.

And I’m still waiting.

Luckily, he was able to put the car in a bay for the night, which not only protects the car but makes sure it’s at the head of the line for tomorrow. Keeping my fingers crossed!

I don’t know why a day spent waiting feels any different from any other day. I mean, I did the same things — read, play a game on the computer, take a short walk, wander around my yard, talk to neighbors. Oh, and I took photos of my tulips!

I guess it’s more that I don’t have my normal sense of untimeliness when I’m waiting because waiting for something almost by definition indicates a timeline.

I should be used to waiting by now, considering how sporadically anyone comes to do work on the house. I’ve figured out the problem — the same problem a lot of people around here have. The jobs are too small for a contractor to use a full crew, and many workers can’t work without supervision, so it’s hard to split crews into smaller groups. Or something like that.

Not that it matters. If I weren’t waiting for any of these jobs to be done, I’d be waiting for others since there always seems to be something that needs to be fixed.

Meanwhile, there are tulips.

***

What if God decided S/He didn’t like how the world turned out, and turned it over to a development company from the planet Xerxes for re-creation? Would you survive? Could you survive?

A fun book for not-so-fun times.

Click here to buy Bob, The Right Hand of God.

Posted in gardening, house, life. Tags: , , , , , . Leave a Comment »

Uninspired

March 23, 2021 — Pat Bertram

Without any great traumas, or even small ones, without any new flowers popping up or more work being done on the house or travels, there’s not much to write about. I hadn’t realized how many different things I used to do simply to have something to say, such as hikes or get togethers, and now that I have no place to hike and the impetus to get out among people has faded because of the social restrictions of the past year, the lack of stimulus is taking its toll. It’s not a problem for me, personally, you understand. I’m quite content on my own, but a quiet life without a lot of input for contemplation and deep thoughts isn’t very inspiring. In fact, the thoughts that do roam around my head are probably the opposite of inspiring, though the most recent spate of uninspiring thoughts might actually inspire me to do some work.

The workers who have been sporadically laying down rock around my garage and house have been keeping their wheelbarrow in my garage so it’s available when they need it. It wasn’t a problem in the winter because I was so seldom in the garage, but now that the weather is warming up, I might want to get to my tools and potting table and I can’t because that wheelbarrow is parked in the way.

I’d saved half the storage area in my garage for the workers to use, but that part of the garage has been filled up with various supplies and pieces of leftover wood. I really should go out there and try to rearrange the stuff to make a parking spot for the wheelbarrow because at the rate they work, this project could last for many more months, and I would like the wheelbarrow out of my way. Or maybe, the next time someone shows up, I should have them do the rearranging.

Eventually, perhaps, all the work will be done and I won’t have to worry about extraneous stuff in the garage. Well, actually, I don’t have to worry about it now. I don’t have to worry about anything. I just do. Besides, the wheelbarrow is really not a problem. It’s just that an empty mind often gets filled up with frustrations; at least mine does.

Luckily, there are plenty of bulbs coming up to give me something more energizing to think of, and it appears as if the lilacs are greening up. I even see a tinge of purple on some of the baby bushes, though I would have thought they were too small and too new to have blossoms. But who knows — most of what happens in my yard surprises me, whether it’s workers showing up or flowers blooming or weeds plotting to take over.

Luckily, there are always books to keep my mind occupied so I don’t fill my head with unproductive thoughts, but most books don’t provide fodder for blog posts.

Come to think of it, I should be glad I don’t have anything to write about it. It means there’s nothing I need to get off my chest or out of my head. It means my life going smoothly. And though a smooth life might not be inspiring, it’s a good thing.

***

What if God decided S/He didn’t like how the world turned out, and turned it over to a development company from the planet Xerxes for re-creation? Would you survive? Could you survive?

A fun book for not-so-fun times.

Click here to buy Bob, The Right Hand of God.

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Fixing the Foundation

March 10, 2021 — Pat Bertram

We’re having a spate of warm spring-like weather (complete with high winds!) in between the winter storms, so the people working on and around my house took the opportunity to fix the foundation — fill in the cracks and seal the concrete.

The foundation was white, and now it’s not. Like the original Model-T’s, I could have any color I wanted as long as it’s black. That’s the only color available for the sealer, an asphalt emulsion similar to that used to seal parking lots and roads. I wasn’t sure I’d like the dark foundation, but it really seems to define the house.

It will really look great once the ornamental rock is in place around the house. Not only will the rock be attractive, but it will further protect the foundation.

As usual, though, there is a weird problem. Nothing anyone has done around here has been easy; even a simple job turns out to be an arduous task, such as having to build a garage from scratch, rather than simply being able to fix the foundation of the old garage. (The ground under the garage was too wet to pour a foundation, in even the middle of a drought summer. We never did figure out where the moisture came from, though we did surmise the garage had been built over an old septic system.)

The current problem isn’t as drastic, but it is as mystifying. In one place on the foundation, something ate through the newly applied sealer. It looked like it could have been some sort of alkali, which would be no surprise, since the soil around here is extremely alkaline. On closer inspection, it seemed to resemble a mold. They’re going to try to putty over the mold with the same substance they’ve been using to fill in the cracks and hope that seals off whatever it is that’s eating the asphalt. It wouldn’t matter so much except that the weird spot is in the front rather than on a side where it wouldn’t be noticeable, but if it can’t be fixed, I’ll get used to it. It’s not as if this is a brand-new house (it was built in 1928), or as if the discoloration would bring down the value of the property (and if does, it’s not an issue I will have to deal with because I intend to stay here until my end if at all possible.)

It’s just nice seeing things take shape again, nice seeing work being done. And if it snows or rains later this week, well, that will be nice, too.

***

What if God decided S/He didn’t like how the world turned out, and turned it over to a development company from the planet Xerxes for re-creation? Would you survive? Could you survive?

A fun book for not-so-fun times.

Click here to buy Bob, The Right Hand of God. 

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Workers!

March 8, 2021 — Pat Bertram

I had a lovely surprise today. I heard scrabbling noises around my house, and when I went out to see what was going on, I found a worker preparing the cracks in the foundation so he could fill them in. He’ll have to let the filler harden, and then he’ll come back and paint the foundation with a sealer. The sealer is black, which I’m not sure I’ll like. If not, I can paint over it with a lighter color. Or I could wait until I got used to it.

But that’s an issue for another day. Today, I am delighted to see progress being made.

It’s funny how so often, one job depends upon another, sort of like a reverse of the nursery rhyme “The House that Jack Built.” The workers have rock to put around the house, but they can’t do that until the they put down the weed barrier, and they can’t put down the weed barrier until they build up the dirt around the house, and they can’t build up the dirt around the house until they seal the foundation, and they can’t seal the foundation until they fill in the cracks, and they can’t fill in the cracks until they dig out the dirt that’s around the foundation.

Luckily, I’m not the one having to do all this, and the person who is doing it doesn’t seem to mind the work.

Even luckier, the weather should hold for a few days until the filler has cured. It’s one of those projects that can’t be done in cold weather because the concrete filler would disintegrate, and all that work would go for naught.

[An interesting aside; interesting to me, anyway. Seeing the word “naught” made me wonder how it was related to the word naughty, since the two words don’t have much in common, and it turns out that “naughty” does come from “naught.” Apparently, in the fourteenth century, naughty referred to a person lacking in wealth, and over the years, came to mean someone lacking in morals. Does that mean back then that the poor were considered bad, perhaps poor because they were bad, as people so often surmise even today?]

But, neither naught or naughty have anything to do with the matter at hand, which is . . . workers (at least one, anyway) are here working!

***

What if God decided S/He didn’t like how the world turned out, and turned it over to a development company from the planet Xerxes for re-creation? Would you survive? Could you survive?

A fun book for not-so-fun times.

Click here to buy Bob, The Right Hand of God. 

Posted in house, life. Tags: , , , , . 4 Comments »

Happy House Anniversary to Me!

March 7, 2021 — Pat Bertram

Today is the second anniversary of my being a home owner. The anniversary of when I first saw the house won’t be for another couple of days and will require yet another celebration. Today, though, is about the house.

I bought the house sight unseen, though I had viewed photos online. Oddly, I didn’t particularly care one way or the other about the outside of the house, though people who saw the photos all told me how cute it was and how it looked like me. I was more interested in the new kitchen, the walk-in shower with hand bars, the plethora of windows. Despite that, I have been eminently pleased with the house itself — the spooky basement and the now defunct garage not so much, but both those disappointments have been turned into . . . whatever the opposite of disappointment is. It should be “appointment,” shouldn’t it? Since it’s not, I’ll have to go with “satisfaction.”

Though the basement still needs some work, mostly cosmetic, such as paint, it’s not the spooky place it was at the beginning. If I had known I would only go down those stairs a few times a year to replace the furnace filter, I might not have gone to the expense, but it still makes me feel good to know it’s just a basement, not a horror show.

And the new garage, of course, is wonderful, functional, and attractive. It certainly adds to the joy of home ownership.

I never wanted to own a house. It seemed too much of a responsibility. The first time I ever saw the possibilities in owning a place was when I visited my sister a few years ago. Her house is a delight, with art and artifacts and artful displays wherever I would look. But even so, I didn’t want to own, which was good since there was no way I could ever have afforded to buy a place. At least, not then. The years passed and, as luck would have it, a house showed up in my life.

It has all worked out so much better than I could ever have imagined. Not only do I love my house, I love owning it. It makes me feel good, as if I were wearing a warm cloak on a cold day.

Adding to the luck, the town that came with the house has been a good place for me, complete with a nearby library . . . and friends.

There were several very long years where I thought I would never be happy again. There were other times I knew something wonderful would be in my future — since the universe is balance, I figured only something really special could offset the pain of losing Jeff and the horror of grief.

In twenty days, it will be eleven years that he’s been gone, and not only did I find happiness again, I found the “something wonderful.”

Last year, on the first anniversary, a friend wrote, “Happy house anniversary, Pat. And happy Pat anniversary, house. You make a great couple! Perfect together.” And we are perfect together. Other people sometimes suffer a bout of buyer’s remorse, but not me. I knew this was my house from the first time I saw photos of the place on the real estate site.

So today, I celebrate me and the house. Together.

***

Pat Bertram is the author of Grief: The Inside Story – A Guide to Surviving the Loss of a Loved One. “Grief: The Inside Story is perfect and that is not hyperbole! It is exactly what folk who are grieving need to read.” –Leesa Healy, RN, GDAS GDAT, Emotional/Mental Health Therapist & Educator

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Taking Life As It Comes

February 17, 2021 — Pat Bertram

In a group text conversation, several women I know mentioned how they could hardly wait for spring, and it struck me as odd. The sentiment, of course, isn’t odd; in fact, it’s understandable, considering the heavy snows and arctic temperatures we’ve been served this winter. What is odd is that I am so out of the habit of longing for things to be different that I had forgotten other people were still in the habit.

Oh, don’t get me wrong. I’m glad the weather is clearing, even temporarily (more snow on the way!), and I am glad that we’re returning to more normal temperatures for this time and place, but it never occurred to me to want something different. This is what I have, so this is what I have to deal with. Admittedly, these arctic times are worrying; I have an old car, a battery that’s past its prime (though technically, it still has a couple years of use left), and an old house. I won’t know if there’s any problems with the car until I try starting it when it warms up a bit more, but a frozen water pipe was my only problem with the house, and even that wasn’t a problem. It was defrosted quickly, and it gave the workers a chance to insulate the pipe and to see a crack in the foundation that needs to be fixed. (The crack would have been fixed if the weather had cooperated; they’d bought the necessary supplies right before the snows came.)

What also is odd about my reaction to that conversation is that I hadn’t realized how much I really do live for the day. I make plans, of course, and worry way too much (though I am trying not to), but longing for things — even something as minor as weather — to be different died somewhere during my decade of deaths. (During a ten-year span, not only did Jeff die, but so did both my parents and the two brothers closest to me in age — one a year older, one a year younger.)

No amount of longing, wishing, hoping, changed one iota of those deaths or my grief. Nor did it change any of their lives. My parents lived long and happy lives, but Jeff and my brothers all died relatively young, and at least one of them had a miserable life. And I could not go back and change a single thing about any of it.

So a long, hard winter? Child’s play compared to all that. Besides, as I have learned, things change. Spring will come, bringing its own problems (wind!!), and then summer, and before we know it, we’ll be back in the midst of winter. There’s no real point in wishing my life away, in longing for something that’s either laid to rest in the past or is yet to be unearthed in the future.

Of course, this is today. By tomorrow, I might be longing for spring as much as everyone else, but for now, for today, I’m taking life — and the weather — as it comes.

***

Pat Bertram is the author of Grief: The Inside Story – A Guide to Surviving the Loss of a Loved One. “Grief: The Inside Story is perfect and that is not hyperbole! It is exactly what folk who are grieving need to read.” –Leesa Healy, RN, GDAS GDAT, Emotional/Mental Health Therapist & Educator

Posted in grief, house, life. Tags: , , , , , . 3 Comments »

Freeze!

February 15, 2021 — Pat Bertram

The temperature last night was twenty-three degrees below zero (Farenheit). Is that even a real temperature? Adding in the wind chill factor brought the temperature down to thirty-five below.

I’ve been warm. Although part of the county lost power last night, this area didn’t. What I did lose was the cold water in my kitchen. It was amazing how quickly the pipe froze. I made myself a cup of tea, using the cold water from the faucet, and then, an hour later, I decided to leave the spigot open slightly to keep the pipe from freezing, and there was no cold water. Almost an instant freeze!

I knew from the previous owner that the cold-water pipe in the kitchen had a tendency to freeze, but an insulation cap on the outside faucet was supposed to take care of the problem. And I thought the had solved the problem because the pipe hadn’t been an issue until last night. I just figured it was the immensely cold temperatures (more than forty degrees below average for this area). I put a space heater down in the basement near that particular pipe, but it didn’t help.

So I called my contractor. That’s not the sort of job they normally do, but he’d invited me to call him whenever there is a problem with the house. A little later he showed up with a couple of his workers. One shoveled the sidewalk from the house to the garage (a lovely surprise!) while the other located the frozen water pipe. No wonder the space heater didn’t solve the problem — it was a different pipe than I thought it was, so the insulation cap was doing its job. The frozen pipe ran along the inside wall by one of the cracks in the foundation (cracks that were being fixed before all the storms hit). So, the men unfroze the pipe and insulated it.

No damage was done, which sort of surprised me because the pipes, although not more than a decade old, are brittle and need to be replaced. That job is on the contractor’s to-do list, but it hasn’t been a priority, and I didn’t want to make it a priority until some of the started jobs are finished. So, whew! I don’t have to worry about replacing the pipes for now.

The town has been talking about trying to get more retirees to the area, thinking it’s an ideal location for older people since houses are relatively cheap (though the prices are going up a bit), and it’s touted as a mild four-season climate. I wonder how these temperatures will affect those plans? Not that I care except as a matter of curiosity.

What I do care about is staying warm and keeping my pipes from freezing. Luckily, we’re in a heat wave — it’s up to zero degrees right now, and the low tonight will be only minus four.

I know one thing — until it warms up to a decent temperature and all danger of pipes freezing is past, I’m just going to let the kitchen faucet drip.

***

What if God decided S/He didn’t like how the world turned out, and turned it over to a development company from the planet Xerxes for re-creation? Would you survive? Could you survive?

Click here to buy Bob, The Right Hand of God. 

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Alone Again . . . Naturally

February 6, 2021 — Pat Bertram

Because of a change in the situation of the woman I have been working for, I am on a hiatus from work. Whether this is a permanent furlough or just temporary, I don’t know, but for now, I’m back to being fairly isolated. I’m hoping the weather cooperates so the workers can come and finish some of the jobs they’ve started, such as digging the dirt away from the house and repairing the cracks in the foundation, because having them around the place makes me feel less isolated.

Even though it’s getting cold again, I am trying to take a walk every day, bundling up against the chill winds, so at least that helps me feel more a part of the world. I can also make an appointment to get more books from the library, and if I get desperate, I can watch the few hand-me-down DVDs I’ve collected. All those things make me feel less isolated, though they don’t really do anything to actually make me less isolated. I don’t suppose it matters, though, and won’t for a while longer. I do well on my own since I have hermit tendencies, though I’m not sure how healthy such isolation is in the long run.

After Jeff died, I made sure to keep active, to make friends, to be involved in various groups and to do new things because I was afraid of becoming stagnant. I redoubled those efforts once I moved because I knew what a challenge it would be making new friends, but all that effort went by the wayside with The Bob restrictions, so I have a hunch I am now at the stagnant stage. It’s possible that spending so much time alone is skewing my perceptions and that I have not yet become torpid, but it’s hard to tell because . . . well, because I am alone so much.

I suppose I could do what so many people are doing — get involved in activities with a small group of friends, but unfortunately, just because people have received the vaccine, it doesn’t mean they won’t still spread The Bob. After all, the vaccine is only 90% effective (and less so when it comes to new variants) while isolation is 100% effective.

And truly, does it really matter if I’ve become stagnant, especially if I don’t know the truth of the matter? And so what if I become the crazy cat lady sans cats? If I’m the only one around, who will know?

***

Pat Bertram is the author of Grief: The Inside Story – A Guide to Surviving the Loss of a Loved One. “Grief: The Inside Story is perfect and that is not hyperbole! It is exactly what folk who are grieving need to read.” –Leesa Healy, RN, GDAS GDAT, Emotional/Mental Health Therapist & Educator

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Feeling Vulnerable

January 23, 2021 — Pat Bertram

I’ve been doing a good job the past year or so trying to keep focused on the day rather than what might happen in the future, especially when it comes to my precarious financial situation and my advancing years, but the exorbitant increase in house insurance shocked me out of my complacency, and I’ve been feeling unsettled and vulnerable.

Knowing so many people who are getting The Bob adds to the feeling of things being out of kilter. It certainly doesn’t help that one of the library books I got was about electric grid of the entire United States being destroyed, which reminds me how vulnerable we really are. If the electricity goes out, so will heat, plumbing, communication, and transportation. Which means after a few weeks, people will be dying en masse of dehydration and disease and starvation since water won’t be coming into the house, wastes won’t be going out, and food won’t be distributed to the stores. Just what I do not need to be reading when I am feeling vulnerable to begin with!

I’m not sure how I would handle such a calamity as the book portrays, but I did buy some bottled water today to have just in case. I have camping equipment, including a little stove that works with twigs and other readily available bio-fuel, and a solar powered charger, so I could charge a phone, assuming there would be anyone to call. I have learned from camping that one can keep a whole lot warmer at night if you sleep in a tiny tent inside a larger tent, and I could set up the double tents inside the house, so my tiny sleeping area would be warmed by whatever body heat I could engender.

I also have solar lights outside my house, which, if necessary, could be brought inside.

It seems surprising that a book written in the past year or so didn’t mention the ubiquitous nature of such lights. The author just talked about it being totally dark at night. Around here, when the electricity goes out, there are still quite a few lights on because of solar lighting. But then, this is a relatively sunny area; maybe other areas aren’t as accessible to solar power.

For my own peace of mind, I’ll have to ignore the vulnerable feelings of the past few days and go back to believing (all evidence to the contrary) that I will be fine. Even if it’s an illusion, it’s still important for me to act as if everything will work out. Because who knows — things could continue working out for me, and it’s possible (at least according to some theories) the belief itself will make things come true.

And if all else fails, there are all those origami cranes I am folding to ensure my good fortune.

***

What if God decided S/He didn’t like how the world turned out, and turned it over to a development company from the planet Xerxes for re-creation? Would you survive? Could you survive?

Click here to buy Bob, The Right Hand of God. 

Posted in books, house, life. Tags: , , , , , . 15 Comments »
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