abby « Robin Writes

We’ve been working more on the house remodel than anything else lately, especially due to the heat. Every day, of course, there are chores like composting and burning trash, weeding and checking over the garden, and tracking the progress on the old house.

Which, I’m thrilled to say, now resembles a one-story A-frame. They pushed it over Monday afternoon, and by next week, it should all have disappeared! Fencing and a second gate will go up across the front to fill in the gaps.

So, the remodel. Well, I’m not going to move in and THEN try to re-do everything, so we’re removing plywood (??) and replacing almost all of it with drywall. I say “almost,” because the front of the living room and soon-to-be office are also plywood, with lots of windows. What a pain. Besides, those pieces don’t look as bad as the rest of it did. I can live with it.

Then there’s the closet. The seller didn’t like walls, apparently, but when he built them, he went all-out. The three closet walls—it’s built into the center, load-bearing wall—are all super-reinforced. Since it’s just on one side (keep in mind that the entire house is 30X30), we finally decided it must be a safe room, for tornados and such. Down it comes. Husband has been moving electric, taking out some outlets and moving switches.

Next week, we’ll be adding some half-walls to divide things up a bit. Also, I need more wall space. Interesting how so much furniture is designed to be set against a wall.

After that, we’ll de-popcorn the ceiling, replace 2-3 of the fans, and start painting. Then we’ll have just the kitchen to work on: adding a double wall oven and extra cabinets and counters, removing the dishwasher, and replacing the existing counters.

Move-in date is still ten and a half months away, but—and this is a big but—we’re rapidly closing in on the start of school, which means we can only come down on weekends, for two days at a time. So that gives us a total of about three months.

However, I’m happy to report that the garage is almost empty! All the storable stuff, kids’ things and memorabilia, etc., has been moved. Next up, getting rid of this giant garage sale pile—coming in October. I think. I hate doing these, but we’ll see. Maybe I’ll just call a charity and have them pick up the whole lot!

Last week, the top of my shoulder was tender to the touch. Nothing else, particularly, that I could recall, but apparently I was having a fibro flare-up. It doesn’t do it often, in fact, so seldom that I rarely connect the dots. But, as occasionally happens, I read an article on fibromyalgia just yesterday.

And I did connect the dots. Again.

I was diagnosed, oh, eight years ago, I think. Obviously, I don’t take meds for it—my German ancestry says, “Suck it up, cupcake!” And I do, or at least I ignore the pain, most of the time. Until, that is, it knocks me out for a few days.

Another part of the problem—see title—is that, ever since I was a child, I’ve had this bad habit of holding my breath when I’m concentrating on something, physical work, writing, whatever. That makes for quicker exhaustion.

Heat doesn’t help, either. Back in the day, I rarely perspired; not from heat exhaustion or anything, just not much sweating in spite of temperatures or workload. Now, sheesh. I drip constantly!

Anyway, the pain part stinks. At night, I wake up a lot. From a tiny noise to a wrinkle in the sheets, or sweating, to pain in my hips from lying in one spot too long. And it really hurts. And when I do physical work, I tend to not only hold my breath but also work full speed ahead for 30 minutes or so before taking a break. Doesn’t help that I hate to leave a chore unfinished…

This week, down on the Farm, my husband is moving walls and electric stuff; I’m little help with this, although I’m learning. A little. Oh, I can hand him tools or search for screws, but that’s about it.

So I do other things—clean up, cook, wash dishes, pick up stuff, bag trash (always a lot that we’re still finding), run the weedeater, and work in the garden. I did all those things, from 8:00 a.m. until 11:00, and then I was done. Not sleepy, just exhausted. Heat index was 86, so there’s that.

You tell me—am I just being a big wuss and making excuses? Sometimes I feel like it…