Went to Best Buy and bought a desk for the studio. Spent about three hours assembling it, and fortunately finished before dark. The house is positioned at an angle so the front faces southwest; the light of the setting sun streams in through the little window in the front door and lights up the studio. Although it's a small house, the battery-powered lanterns do a poor job of lighting the interior at night.
The house sits at about a 45 degree angle compared to the property lines. The front broad side of the structure faces toward the southwest, because I had a strong geomancy sort of feeling about positioning it that way. I wanted the afternoon sun to shine into the bedrooms on cool winter afternoons; I wanted the narrow ends of the building to face into the directions from which storm winds usually come. Each of the four exterior walls gets direct sun at some point during the day; there is no north-facing wall to accumulate algae and mildew. And yes, it's a point of pride to live in a house that is oriented in harmony with the wind, sun and land rather than thoughtlessly placed parallel to the arbitrary property lines.
I bought a replacement cushion made for outdoor lounge chairs; I will use it as a temporary bed. (I have been sleeping on the floor, with a bedspread under me for extra padding.)
This evening I used the generator to power part of the house for an hour. Turned on the electric lights and watched the TV show Who Wants to be a Millionaire.
Freestone (our oldest cat) has been acting sickly; I moved her from the camper into the house and gave her some extra attention.
Electric power was connected today. The man who came to activate power and install the electric meter said to me, "Are you ready for me to juice you up?" He looked at me strangely after saying this, as if I were obligated to laugh at his mundane wordplay. I kept a blank facial expression and remained motionless. After a few more awkward milliseconds he shrugged and began checking the house circuit with an ohmmeter. He hurriedly went through the hook-up routine and then departed.
The water heater got hot, the refrigerator got cold. The central air conditioning system works well.
The house is no longer a part of the tranquility of the land. The windows have to be closed to keep the artificially cooled atmosphere indoors, so when we're inside we will no longer hear the wind whispering in the trees of Sink One or the quieter birdcalls and animal noises. The air conditioner and the refrigerator come on and go off frequently, making noise while they're working; soon (I expect) they will be joined by an undercurrent of radio and TV noise during almost all of our waking hours.
The electric bill is a monthly obligation that can never be paid in full. Unlike the mortgage, these payments don't result in the accumulation of equity. Unlike credit card payments, the checks sent to the electric company don't whittle down a debt that might eventually be paid off. Instead, the electric bill is an infinite sinkhole for money, a financial wound that will never stop bleeding.
So I'd say getting the electricity connected is a mixed blessing.
Frank (the owner of the land and house) bought a new TV and a satellite TV receiver. The flat-screen Sony televisions were very tempting but he ended up buying something more affordable.
Freestone is back to normal. I assume she was just acting ill in order to get attention.
The problem with the well water being milky and smelling oily has cleared up. The milky color was probably dissolved limestone that got into the water during the well-drilling process. We assume the oily smell had something to do with the new pump. The water is not perfect, however. When I fill a clear glass jar or a white plastic bucket with well water, it becomes apparent the liquid has a slight reddish tinge. I assume this is caused by what the locals call arn, known as iron in other parts of the English-speaking world. This arn has already formed a reddish film at the bottom of the toilet tanks and toilet bowls.
Planted four crape myrtles near the northern edge of the main part of the property. They are from Patty's Pampered Plants. Patty herself is back from vacation; when I described the texture of our soil to her, she suggested mixing a lot of potting soil and other amendments into the holes where the trees will be planted. In other words, the soil around here is crap, and there's no point trying to grow most plant species in it; you simply have to replace it.
An intense thunderstorm hovered over the house for an hour. I turned off the main circuit breakers to protect the wonderful new appliances from any potential lightning damage.
The daily summer thunderstorms seem a lot stronger in rural areas than in the city; I remember getting the same impression when I lived on my father's 5 acres in Osceola County when I was in high school. I wonder if the buildings in an urban environment serve as a windbreak and actually tone down a storm's effects, or is the idea that the storms are more powerful out in the country just an illusion?
We installed the satellite dish and DirecTV receiver and began receiving more channels of TV than ever before. Frank mainly wanted this system so he could watch a network called BBC America; he is a big fan of British comedy shows and certain types of mystery series. Due to our present lack of furniture, the TV is sitting on top of the cardboard box which holds the roto-tiller that we haven't unpacked yet.
I went to a local furniture store and bought a nice piece of furniture to put the TV in. Unfortunately the TV didn't quite fit, so I had to return the real furniture and go to K-Mart to buy one of those "home entertainment center" furniture kits made of particle board with wood-look veneer.
The kit in its box weighed about 90 pounds, and I had a hell of a time getting it down from the shelf, into a shopping cart and through the check-out line. The clueless staff made no effort to help. Out in the parking lot, I was stumped; I thought I would be able to dump the kit from the shopping cart into the back of the Explorer, but it turned out to be an uphill move, and I was not able to get the heavy elongated box into the car. I thrashed around clumsily for a couple of minutes. A stranger, a man in sweaty T-shirt and dirty jeans, saw my struggle as he was getting out of his pickup truck. He helped me push the box into the car.
When I got it home, I left the box in the car, opened it up and carried the kit into the house two or three pieces at a time. Spent a few hours assembling it and putting all the TV equipment in place.
Due to fatigue and lack of spare time, I have not kept notes of recent days' events.
Frank bought a used John Deere lawn tractor for $400. Not sure how old it is. It was the cheapest one he could find.
The Explorer is at a Ford dealership getting its electrical problem fixed; it finally got to the point where the vehicle would not start. Unfortunately this happened when Frank was in town late at night, having just parked his pick-up truck at a lube and tire shop and having just dropped his keys into their mail slot. He was expecting me to pick him up in the Explorer but it wouldn't start. He had to call a tow truck, ride it home to get his spare keys and have the Explorer towed into town; when he got back into town he got in his pick-up and drove it back home. The lube and tire joint put a new battery in the Explorer but its voltage meter continued to fluctuate crazily so we took it to a Ford dealer.
I gave up sleeping on the lounge chair cushion and obtained an extra-long twin size bed. I know inflatable "air mattress" beds are getting popular now because the user can adjust the firmness, but I just wanted a plain old bed.
I mowed for about 60 minutes this morning, using the little push mower because the John Deere lawn tractor is down for repairs. I considered the futility of trying to mow 8 acres with a mower that cuts a swath only about two feet wide and the futility of mowing in general. The weeds I cut down today will be growing back. Soon.
Most of this land is waiting for something to do. (The areas around the Sinks already have something to do; the trees provide shelter for birds and other wildlife, and the shade they cast creates a home for many interesting plants and mushrooms.) Apparently this was farmland, maybe for decades, but it has been neglected for the past few years. The previous owner planted pecan saplings on it, but that was just to get the agricultural exemption on his property taxes; I don't think he had any real interest in pecans.
As someone said on one of the gardening shows on TV, every piece of land has a garden on it just waiting to happen. As you begin to work the land, the garden will become evident. Similar to those scratch-off lottery tickets, I suppose. But I have a feeling this particular piece of land has already been scratched off and cashed in.
Podo the cat was breathing abnormally (rapid shallow breaths) so we rushed her to the nearest veterinarian's office. They studied her for an hour or so and then suggested we take her to a veterinary teaching hospital that was about 25 or 30 miles away. We did so.
After we spent about an hour there it was clear that they were not going to know what to do with Podo for another hour or two, so Frank decided to go to work and leave a blank check with me. We rode to Frank's place of employment in his pickup truck and then I had to drive it back to the animal hospital in order to finish up the paperwork and payment for Podo's care.
Driving the unfamiliar vehicle was made more difficult by being in unfamiliar territory in the height of rush hour and a powerful thunderstorm with opaque gray waves of rain that made it almost impossible to see the road through the windshield. I pushed on, through outbursts of rain mixed with hail, around stalled vehicles, and through intersections where the traffic lights had been disabled by power failures.
Podo spent the night there at the veterinary teaching hospital in the oxygen cage. Before I departed I was allowed to step into the back room to see her; she was sleeping inside the plexiglass oxygen chamber with a small blanket wrapped around her. I decided to let her sleep rather than waking her up just to say goodbye. A long, deep sleep can be a great healer. I'm overdue for a long uninterrupted sleep myself.
Rosko the cat seems to be wandering around the house trying to find Podo, looking into the various nooks where she usually takes naps. Freestone, on the other hand, is taking advantage of the quieter Podo-free environment to grab some extra sleep. In recent days Freestone has been sleeping on the lounge chair cushion that I had used as a temporary bed.
The Explorer is fixed; new alternator. The mechanics also unexpectedly did the recall work on the liftgate in the back of the vehicle, a task that other dealerships had declined to do because the previous owner's welded repairs made it look like it might be difficult.
I picked up Podo and brought her home late in the afternoon. She had been examined and discussed by the teachers and student veterinarians. X-rays from yesterday and today show that she had suffered another attack of pneumomediastinum, which is air and/or fluid inside the thorax making it difficult for the lungs to inflate fully when inhaling. However, after a night of sleep in the oxygen chamber, she has almost completely recovered. She was remarkably calm during the ride home, as if she knew the crisis was over.
When a similar incident happened last December, the vets at the emergency clinic had suggested bringing Podo to a vet school for a diagnosis by the best experts. Now she's been to a vet school and we still don't know the cause of her problem. They say her condition is unusual and her quick recovery is extraordinary.
At this point there is not much we can do. Finding the source of the possible leak in her respiratory system would require cramming a small camera down her throat and/or doing exploratory surgery. We are reluctant to put her through the additional trauma (and to absorb the expense of more medical procedures) when there is no guarantee that the vets could find or repair the flaw. We are considering trying to build some kind of oxygen chamber here at home, to have it ready if there is another incident in the future. To date Frank has spent more than a thousand dollars on crisis care for Podo and she's only about 2 years old.
I was awakened earlier than I wanted by the sound of rain hitting my window.
While walking around on the land today I again encountered a group of the unidentified butterflies that I've been wondering about. The upper surfaces of their wings, usually visible only when they are flying, have a yellowish orange color with a black border. The undersides of the wings, visible when they are standing still and their wings are folded up, is yellow with just a hint of greenish-yellow.
Judging by what I could find in the National Audubon Society Field Guide to North American Butterflies and in Butterflies through Binoculars: a Field, Finding, and Gardening Guide to Butterflies in Florida, the species is called sleepy orange (Eurema nicippe). They are widespread throughout the South, but I don't recall seeing any of them before the move. Their caterpillars feed on clovers or Cassia species.
Men working for the telephone company unexpectedly showed up today with trenching equipment and ran a phone cable from the house to the street. Perhaps we will have phone service soon, but it seems to be rare for businesses to do anything quickly around here, so I won't get my hopes up. We have a cellphone for urgent calls but it's expensive and does not work very well; we must be too far away from the nearest antenna tower to get a clear signal.
This morning workers from the manufactured home dealership came and picked up the camper they had lent us. Later in the afternoon they delivered, leveled and tied down the storage shed I've been eagerly awaiting. It doesn't look very level to me, but the ground around it is not perfectly flat so it's hard to judge "levelness" just by looking.
We went to a certain farm on a rural road in the area. Frank was hoping to buy some fresh vegetables but none were available; most of the farmland looked untended and the place seemed to have gone downhill since our springtime visit. Frank asked the farmer what they would be growing in the fall and I tried to overhear the response as I sat in the car, but the farmer's thick rural accent made his speech incomprehensible to me.
Also on the same bumpy road we followed a trail of hand-painted signs that said "bunnies, chickens and more". Frank was hoping to find a place where he could learn about raising chickens and perhaps buy a few in the future. But the driveway took us into a shabby run-down place strewn with kids' toys and junk cars rusting away. After a brief glance at this scene, Frank turned around and drove away as quickly as possible.
We moved the last of our belongings out of the rented storage facility this evening while a light rain fell. So, in a way, the move is complete. But we still don't have telephone service and the front porch has not been built, so the settling in is not really done yet, even after these long months.
©2000 R.K. Harrison.
back to Journal Table of Contents