Fan Friday—I Suck


At deadlines. Of course, they’re self-imposed, so I guess I could be flexible, right?

Quick story: once upon a time, I used to be very anal about cleaning my house. I did certain chores on certain days and if I ran out of time or skipped it for any reason, I’d get all discombobulated. Someone asked me, “What’s the big deal?” Well, the big deal was that I liked having a schedule and getting things accomplished—the problem, however, was my state of mind if it wasn’t done. So I changed. If I didn’t, say, dust the house on Tuesday, or on Wednesday playing catch-up, I’d give myself a pass.

It was a struggle.

Now, I know you’re waiting for this next book—quite frankly, I’m touched and honored and a host of other positive things—but as I said a while back, it’s a little different than the first three. So I’m struggling with that.

All I can do is apologize, again, for being late.

I know how it is—especially with a series. I’m a reader, too, after all.

Would you feel better if I said my publisher had delayed the release? Oh, wait . . .

Or I could give a list of excuses like I do when I have a doctor’s visit and he asks why my blood pressure is still up or why I refused to get on the scale . . .

OR—I could just set this post to go live and get the heck offline here and get crackin’.

 

Prep Monday—The Farm


Well. Ahem. There was, um, a LOT OF STUFF left at the new place. The listing agent had said that the seller “just moved out” the first of February. Maybe we forgot to ask which year?

Picture this (and you can see for yourself, although the pics for this week’s episode were taken shortly after we started; so just imagine even MORE STUFF):

A 900 square foot house, two rooms. We’re not counting the half-assed lean-to attached to the back that served as a utility room. That sucker is coming down, as soon as we can manage. There are three decks; the one to the left we’ll call the “kitchen deck,” because the door leading inside is right next to the pantry. The front deck is, of course, on the front, with a door leading inside to the open living area, and the side deck is off the bedroom/bath—but it’s connected to the front deck. All are covered, mostly, and the kitchen deck has a ramp instead of stairs.

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All three decks were covered with plastic planters, as well as few clay ones, and large plastic buckets. Also plastic gallon ice cream containers. Also No. 10 cans, empty. Well, empty of their original contents. Most were now filled with rocks. Not good rocks. Not interesting rocks. Just rocks. Some planters had rocks, most had dirt. One had empty root beer cans and dirt. Hmmm.

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Also discovered on the decks were an aquarium, a restaurant corner book AND table, boxes, rags, trash, plastic chairs, dog dishes (plural, several times over), and a few other assorted odd things. Crap, that is.

I’m happy to report that, while the booth and table are still there—we’re actually just wondering if it’s an illusion—the rest has made its happy way to the barn or the dumpster or the junk pile.

We have a BIG junk pile . . .

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Now, let’s step inside. It’s okay. You can come in. We have latex gloves and dust masks and lots of bleach. Lots.

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In the living area, there are two falling-apart recliners, an electric organ, an entertainment center. Also a VHS player, complete with tapes, a ton of Jehovah’s Witness material, cassettes, a CRT monitor, a practically new printer, keyboard, mouse. Also evidence of other mice. Quite a bit, but also a lot of mouse poison. And traps. Empty, thankfully. Oh, and ton of wadded-up newspaper, and dust, and trash. A lot of trash.

Good thing we bought a huge box of contractor trash bags.

The cabinets were full of junk, old dishes, home-canned items, spices, and cake mixes. Yes, you read that right. Also a lot of dog meds, wormers, etc. And some people meds. Nothing in the fridge, which surprisingly did NOT smell, but the freezer . . . Blech.

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Slip through the bathroom doorway—no actual door, yet—and you’ll see the same kind of crap. Meds, personal care items, a shelving unit in the shower, the toilet in a couple pieces—not trashed, just apart—and bubble bath, dog food, dead plants, perfume, makeup, and more trash.

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Walking through the bedroom/bath area, you’ll find more of the same. And a couch. Ick. And a mattress on top of a homemade platform bed. And more crap on top of that. Shoes in the closet. And hangers. Lots of hangers.

Practically indescribable.

And now? Cleaning, Round One, complete.

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I say “round one,” because no way anything is going in that house until I have at least one more cleaning spree in there. No way.

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We arrived Friday, early afternoon. We finished the house Sunday, late afternoon.

Now, just to be clear, we did a few other things:

Saturday morning, 8:30, 30 degrees, we hiked half the property and narrowed down the possible campsites to two locations.

We got the well turned on and working—sadly, the connection on top of the hot water tank was loose, so that icky lean-to got a quick shower. On the plus side, it sure didn’t hurt anything . . .

We also had a gate and some lumber delivered, and then returned said gate for a bigger one. And we sampled every fast-food restaurant in town.

There aren’t many.

And we got in some target practice.

No, not at the neighbor’s chickens. Oh, he has guineas too. Ick. BIG ick. And a rooster that crows ALL THE TIME.

And we made a lot of plans. A lot. And a lot of lists.

But in the end, we can’t wait to go back!