Song of the day: “Sunrise” by Nora Jones. This song is most prominent in my brain these past few days, and though I like it, it’s starting to get on my nerves. Hah.
Ah, Christmas Eve has arrived, and I had a free day allowing me to catch up on some long-planned activities right at home.
But first, let’s see what’s been happening these past few weeks.
Not a bloody lot. I mean, the days have been full, of course, but nothing that really stands out, if you get what I mean. There are the hundred hours or so at work, which I can’t talk about, even though I would love to, because there is much to say, but darn…I can’t! *sobs*
But anyway. The messes are more or less gone, except for the metal that we’ve gathered from all over the property which we are going to have to bring to the recycling guys in town one of these days, and the plating from grandpa’s old place, which we have to bring to the land fill. Right now we’re living very basic, with the dogs a tad stressed from the lack of space…not to mention grandpa who’s worried about his dogs not being outside enough. So worried is he, that he doesn’t even realize that my dogs are outside even less. *sigh* Sure, it worries me too, but this is winter, and what with all the fences within the property damaged or removed, there is little choice in the matter. Added to that, the weather is not cooperating, despite the fact that we’ve been having some sunshine at least. The temps are very low and the winds cold. Ergo, the dogs are spending a lot of time inside, the poor darlings.
Writing…well, editing is more accurate, I suppose. We’re about halfway through the paper edit, meaning that it isn’t going bad. I still like the changes, despite that there are little resemblances left to the original story. It used to be sweet, and innocent, which was the point. Now it is…less sweet, to the point of gritty. Not a bad thing, mind you. I like gritty as much as the next gal, but I really liked the sweetness that it was. You know, someday I’ll probably Kindle-publish the first version if…you ask nicely. Hah.
Would you like that? A sweet little romance (1st person narrative. I know, not my style, but there you have it) set in the rural twenties of Chicago. Well, let me know. If enough folks ask, I might feel an incentive. *winks*
Exercise-wise I’ve had three good ones…hmmm, technically I four, seeing as I consider hauling a bed up the mountain (not ours) on an endless stairs as exercise. Hah. As for the other three, big brother and I grabbed our bikes (did I mention that I bought a mountain bike a few weeks ago? Well, I did, figuring that it was a safer way to exercise for my foot. And it is) loaded them, Knight and Grandpa in the car, and then headed out to a good spot where we could practice. Never smart to just go on a public road if you haven’t been on a bike proper in a couple of decennia. Hah. But anyway, we went there, plonked grandpa behind the wheel, let Knight out with us and started. I need a new saddle. Whoever thinks that a racing saddle is the better option, is friggin’ insane…it came with the bike, you see…it was cutting up my butt within minutes. No matter, though. I quickly got a hang of it, and burst out laughing when I looked back to see Knight dither between the car following us at a distance, and me, up ahead. He couldn’t decide whether to follow me, or go back to the car where he could lounge in the back, silly boy. Made him run along for about a mile and then gave him what he wanted and let him back into the back seat. I did some more, about three miles I think, and I was downright proud of myself for having made it that far. Boy am I out of practice.
The other exercise sessions involved me air-kickboxing (because I can’t hang the boxing ball anywhere yet), bending like a pretzel for about half an hour and pumping iron. Yay! It was bliss, in particular today, which was my first free day in two weeks, thank you very much. You’ll be pleased to know that I am at least managing basics again, you know sit-ups, stretches, etc five times a week. Nothing like a real exercise like today, but some movement at least.
Have been busy experimenting with baking. I made several breads today. Yay! Three vegetable/herb breads, my old recipe, but with the variation of quark as the base liquid. It worked beautifully. The bread is absolutely delicious, and we’ll be enjoying it for several days to come. Since I was busy anyway, I also made onion/herbal bread, this one with mascarpone and yogurt as the base liquid, which worked out well too. Very tasty.
Added to that, I also made a sweet cranberry/quark based bread last night, which is working well as desert. *smirk* In other words, we’ve got fresh bread coming out of our ears. Hah. Definitely going into the cook book.
As for cooking. Lots of experimenting this week. There was the white endive with green herbs, chili pepper baked in cheese and cream. Yummy. And the carrot, sweet potato mix baked in green herbs with chopped leek, and the just barely done broccoli floating in a light cream sauce. Not to mention the pasta fungi I prepared the other day. Hmmm. I get hungry again just thinking about it.
Lately I’ve been seriously pondering making my old vegetable burgers again. It has been ages, and I do have a nice bag of bread-crumbs. Yeah, I’ll let you know how that works out.
Which reminds me. Do you remember that cape berry cheesecake I was thinking of making the last time I wrote? I did, and it was divine. A very good fruit for cheesecake. Made two, and they were gone within two days. Hah. And what I had left of the filling…or boy was it good dessert.
Knight II’s foot is not doing too bad. I managed to exchange his last sock before he ruined it, so he didn’t get a chance to lick it this time round, and while I put his new one on, I had a chance to ascertain that at least the wound has closed and is dry at the moment. Let’s keep our fingers crossed.
What with my free day today, I finally managed to clean up my clothes a little. They were covering what little horizontal surfaces I have, and I took the opportunity to sort the summer clothes out and store them under my bed. Now if only I can get another free day to get the shelvings sorted as well, that would be grand.
Have been reading quite a bit, and as you must have noticed last week, I have been trying to be diligent in writing reviews for the hard working new authors out there. Posted one this morning, in fact, which I will post here within a few days. This time C.S. Marks’ “ The Fire King” which was an entertaining read to say the least. I’ll let you see for yourself soon. *wink*
As for everything else…the daily stuff, which is more than a little boring to share. Taking care of the dogs, of course, organizing our new living arrangements, daily routines (never forget the laundry, hah) and going out to get donations. A busy life with very little exciting to share with you, darn it.
Well, I better wrap it up. Past seven pm, and I still have to edit.
So, even though I don't have any plans other than going to work this Christmas, I do wish you all a MERRY CHRISTMAS!!! and in case we don't speak before then: HAPPY NEW YEAR!
Tuesday, December 24, 2013
Thursday, December 19, 2013
Review of "The First Enhancer"
No time for a proper blog today, but I promised you a review, so here it is:
The First Enhancer by Teresa McCullough.
On my own Star system of 1-7 this one rates a nice round 5
* * * * *
The review:
I have to admit to having really enjoyed McCullough’s novel. Within the story she explores the intricacies of creating a “special” kind of people serving their respective Gods, which will become the pillars of their religion, I would suspect. Her concept is that of a select group of people gifted by the skill of enhancing, which came across as credible and…well, handy to me. On the most part it describes the pitfalls of a life of sacrifice and toils, though, done in a way that leaves the reader with simple information rather than emotional turmoil.
Writing style:
Though dotted with some typos, in particular in the beginning of the tale, and missing some explanations that I needed, to know where the heck I was at, I could soon see where she was going at a steady pace. There were enough complications to keep it interesting, but not so many that I got lost in them.
Her voice, straightforward and meticulous, had some resemblances to Jack Vance, in my opinion. I liked her style, which was strong and consistent, except that I would have liked the author to apply a bit more flamboyance, some risks in her actual sentence structure and descriptions. To me it came across more as a classy, well detailed documentary about an interesting subject, rather than Hollywood drama, if that makes any sense.
There were times when basic description went on longer than necessary, while at others (in particular at dramatic times) the information was supplied as almost an afterthought. I love it when the author is able to wrench out my heart at life-altering scenes, which didn’t happen, much to my regret.
The characters:
McCullough’s lead character, Lanora, was fleshed out well. She consistent in her character traits, and as the story worked itself to completion, she managed to grow into someone “real”. The one regret I have is first person narrative, because it gave me very little insight in the other main characters. Still, kudos in making me like Lanora for who she was. I like reading a story and wonder in the end if I at some time will see more of this character; this happened.
Violence:
There is some, but it is brought much like the drama: There, to the point but unspecific, and not lingered upon. Respectful for young readers for sure.
Conclusion:
McCullough put together and entertaining story that reminded me why I enjoy Fantasy. I will definitely recommend it to anyone in the mood for a solid fantasy adventure into her world of the Enhancers.
You'll be glad to know that "The First Enhancer" is the first of a series in the same world, available on Amazon.
You can either go here: http://www.amazon.com/The-First-Enhancer-Teresa-McCullough-ebook/dp/B007N8UPCK/ref=sr_1_3?ie=UTF8&qid=1387480204&sr=8-3&keywords=Teresa+McCullough+enhancer or click on the title just now.
The First Enhancer by Teresa McCullough.
On my own Star system of 1-7 this one rates a nice round 5
* * * * *
The review:
I have to admit to having really enjoyed McCullough’s novel. Within the story she explores the intricacies of creating a “special” kind of people serving their respective Gods, which will become the pillars of their religion, I would suspect. Her concept is that of a select group of people gifted by the skill of enhancing, which came across as credible and…well, handy to me. On the most part it describes the pitfalls of a life of sacrifice and toils, though, done in a way that leaves the reader with simple information rather than emotional turmoil.
Writing style:
Though dotted with some typos, in particular in the beginning of the tale, and missing some explanations that I needed, to know where the heck I was at, I could soon see where she was going at a steady pace. There were enough complications to keep it interesting, but not so many that I got lost in them.
Her voice, straightforward and meticulous, had some resemblances to Jack Vance, in my opinion. I liked her style, which was strong and consistent, except that I would have liked the author to apply a bit more flamboyance, some risks in her actual sentence structure and descriptions. To me it came across more as a classy, well detailed documentary about an interesting subject, rather than Hollywood drama, if that makes any sense.
There were times when basic description went on longer than necessary, while at others (in particular at dramatic times) the information was supplied as almost an afterthought. I love it when the author is able to wrench out my heart at life-altering scenes, which didn’t happen, much to my regret.
The characters:
McCullough’s lead character, Lanora, was fleshed out well. She consistent in her character traits, and as the story worked itself to completion, she managed to grow into someone “real”. The one regret I have is first person narrative, because it gave me very little insight in the other main characters. Still, kudos in making me like Lanora for who she was. I like reading a story and wonder in the end if I at some time will see more of this character; this happened.
Violence:
There is some, but it is brought much like the drama: There, to the point but unspecific, and not lingered upon. Respectful for young readers for sure.
Conclusion:
McCullough put together and entertaining story that reminded me why I enjoy Fantasy. I will definitely recommend it to anyone in the mood for a solid fantasy adventure into her world of the Enhancers.
You'll be glad to know that "The First Enhancer" is the first of a series in the same world, available on Amazon.
You can either go here: http://www.amazon.com/The-First-Enhancer-Teresa-McCullough-ebook/dp/B007N8UPCK/ref=sr_1_3?ie=UTF8&qid=1387480204&sr=8-3&keywords=Teresa+McCullough+enhancer or click on the title just now.
Thursday, December 12, 2013
Life goes on
Song of the day: “After all” by Michael Bublé and Bryan Adams. Cute little song, and since I first heard it on the radio it’s been going through my head. I like it. Very BA, which had me think, “Hey, why the heck is Michael Bublé singing like Bryan Adams.” *snort*
So, here we are again. Like walking into a bar you used to frequent in the past but haven’t been for a long time. Familiar faces all around, everyone knows what you like and don’t like, and, well, it’s good to be there again. Same here. Have nothing extravagant to tell at the moment, just the aftermath of several months of stress and hauling behinds.
An update.
On the most part we’re done with the heavy stuff. Everything that had to be taken down is gone, and all that is left is…well, garbage. So much still to haul off, but that is our problem, and not at all city hall’s business. ThereLife goes on, though, which is as it should be. No sense on lingering of could haves and would haves, right? is the rubble down by the old pool apartment that has to be shoved together and covered. With a bit of land fill we should be able to make a terrace there, or something, in the future. There are the leftovers of what used to be the greenhouse that we need to haul off and store, but as of this week the biggest job that was left, grandpa’s roof, was removed. Was harder than anticipated, actually, we all got a little choked up there. I wonder what that is, that choking up bit. I’ve known it was going to happen for a while, have accepted it in a way of “well, f**k it!” and yet there you go: Choking up.
I gotta figure that one out. It’s counterproductive to care about things that you can’t change, and this I can most definitely not change.
But anyway, we tackled the roof for about three to four days, mostly because big Brother and I had a lot of working hours (sorry I’m not writing about work. It takes up a lot of my hours these days but I haven’t got permission to talk about it yet, and I don’t think I would get it if I asked for it. Hah), and what with hauling debris away, getting supplies, going to the garage (I’ll get to that later, by the way) and doing such tedious things as sleeping and eating, we’ve been having to slot in half an hour here, an hour there to get the chore done.
First there were the corrugated plates, which were the hardest. The first four big brother unscrewed and then laboriously shoved to the edge where grandpa and I could grab them. They were friggin’ pain in the behinds, I tell ya. More than three feet wide, twenty-five feet long and barely manageable, size-wise. We were bumbling about like a bunch of drunk construction workers trying to get the darn things wedged behind the new firewood storage. There I was balancing on a steep incline, cacti behind my bum, big metal roofs in front and then sliding on rock. I did some serious swearing, no worries. Considering I can swear in four…well, five languages, it is a good thing I decided a long time ago to keep this blog semi-PG, because otherwise you’re ears would turn all red now. Hah.
Be that as it may, since the plating was too heavy for grandpa regardless, big brother had to get off the roof and come help getting the things in place. They’re now neatly wedged between the shed and rock wall. Yay.
The next shift were the remainder of the plating. This involved grandpa on the roof, because he barely weighs more than a sack of flour and me catching the shorter plating being slid off toward me. I could just imagine what social services would say about that “poor old man” working on the roof…just as I could imagine what grandpa would do for implying that he wouldn’t be able to do it. *snort* These days he’s downright insulted when I suggest I do something in his stead because it might be too much for him. Hah. I know he can do a lot, but sometimes I like to tease him a little. But seriously, from the look of him, no one would guess he’s just a couple of years short of eighty. Whatever he’s doing to keep fit and “young” I’m gonna do the same. I wanna be doing DIY, climbing trees and buildings at eighty, too.
The third evening involved the old black plating of the roof, which were a lot easier. Big brother was punching them up from the nails that held them in place and shoved them down, and I hauled them off to a big pile that we’re going to have to bring to the local land fill soon.
There’s still some stuff that we have to try to store somewhere, but those are details that we’ll have to see to in the next few weeks.
Our temporary kitchen, located on the porch of the house right slabdab in the middle of grandpa’s and my respective sleeping corner, worked out well. I made pictures, but I’ll post them some other day. Same goes for my new bedroom…if a corner can be called such. There’s a bed and about two feet of walking space on the side and bottom. The rest is just filled with what is left of my stuff. I can’t even put my books there…which I shouldn’t think about, because it makes me sad. Grrr. I hate being in a cramped space, it reminds me of the years in the big trailer. *sigh* Gotta look at the positive side: Less cleaning, which is definitely a plus, right?
Doggies. They’re adjusting, though Knight II is a pest at the moment. What with me being away so much he’s not getting enough exercise nor enough attention. His new thing is to grab my wrist and chew on it when I come home, which is painful, not to mention unstoppable. Poor darling. His foot had a bad infection again last week, due to him licking all the skin off again, but luckily regular cleaning stopped that again. It looked almost good yesterday.
After working at the new job two days in a row (once 9 hours once 10 hours, a normal day is 3-4 hours) I discovered that if I get offered a full time position, I’m going to have to decline. Apparently this work is harder on my foot than construction, because unlike at construction where the repetitive motions allow me to adjust my walk in a way that I can keep up, while here, I am walking on burning glass after four to five hours. Most unpleasant. After my ten hour shift, I was about ready to quit. Hah. A pity, but such is life at the moment. If anyone has some miracle cure for Plantars Faciitis that doesn’t involve insoles, I’m open for suggestions. *wink*
The edit. We are in the middle of the paper edit. We’re making good progress and I am still happy with the way it reads. The new parts are in the same “voice” as the old bits, and the changes appear to be working to satisfaction. Now, if only we could finish this edit and the final read through, we could send the darn thing. If anyone reading this wants to play Beta reader, let me know. I’d love some extra input at this point.
I’ll be posting a book review soon. I was finally forced to give up on my phone and get a touch screen thing (2nd hand. Little brother gave me his old one) meaning I can now read Kindle. Decided on Teresa McCullough’s “The First Enhancer” as my first try on it and I hope to write it sometime today. Check back for that.
Had to bring the Land Rover to the garage again. This time a leak of the radiator liquid. Old cars, eh? And ours does suffer some serious abuse on a daily basis. Be that as it may, the garage noticed a small hole in a tube and they patched it to hold out until the new year when we need to have the hand brake adjusted again. It is barely functional at the moment, and that just isn’t safe. I’m going to make those guys a pie, because they have helped us so much these past few months, and despite some minor mistakes (they’re just human after all, hah) the service and personal interaction we get there, makes it worth it to me. There’s nothing I hate more than garages where they placate you with “oh we’ll just put in a new one, little lady” and pretend they don’t think you’re a moron for not knowing the inner workings of an engine. Give me old-school of, let’s see if we can patch that without spending a fortune, any day.
What else. Ooh, I get to gossip in Spanish these days. Two very nice cleaning ladies, well aware of the ongoings in the area. Fun part is, that despite the fact that we were forced to give up on our Spanish lessons (no time nor money for it at the moment) I get to practice a little. The fact that they’re nice ladies only makes it better. By the way, I gave them a taste of my pumpkin salsa mash yesterday, and I got a nice big pot of one day old, organic olive oil in return. Am going to have to experiment with some olive oil recipes.
Which reminds me, I’m planning on doing some cooking experimenting today. Yay. I’m thinking of a yogurt, mango and Golden berries (aka the cape gooseberry) pie. I should have all the ingredients. I’ll let you know how it works out. I, for one, am most curious if the taste I’m imagining in my head will be remotely like what it will be.
Also, I have big plans for cooking today. Haven’t decided what exactly, yet, but it’s gotta be something nice. I so rarely have the time to experiment these days.
Had a sick dog last week. Julia. She’s Cousin Ed’s dog. She was very listless, and after a close look I decided that she was likely to have a uterus infection. The vet wasn’t there, (bank holiday) so we had to postpone bringing her, and put her on antibiotics already. The Vet wondered why I thought it was a uterus infection, at which point I told him (he’s young, still learning the trade from our usual vet) I’d seen it before. Turns out I was right. Poor Julia’s uterus was filled with cysts that had started infecting. The whole mess had to be removed, and since she became a bit septic, she had to stay the weekend. By now she’s her old self again, luckily.
Sally is steadily declining. She doesn’t recognize Cousin Ed anymore, is basically unable to get out of bed, and on most part everyone is just preparing for when she passes on. The doctor doesn’t think it will be long now, which for her will be a blessing, I think.
Tenant is having some trouble adjusting to her new life. It is a lot more lonely for her, (here there was always someone around, even if we were busy) of course, in particular since Cousin Ed needs to make so many arrangements for Sally and their own relocating to a new place. They found a rather nice little house in a small village, and they are having fun decorating it. As soon as they are settled there, we’re going to arrange for Julia and Sammi (their dogs) to be sent over by plane, which should help tenant a bit with her loneliness. I just wish she would find herself something to do, some purpose that will make the time pass faster.
Well, it’s getting late, and there still is a lot to do. I’m going to leave it at this.
Let’s hope I have something a bit more fun and exciting to write about the next time, eh?
So, here we are again. Like walking into a bar you used to frequent in the past but haven’t been for a long time. Familiar faces all around, everyone knows what you like and don’t like, and, well, it’s good to be there again. Same here. Have nothing extravagant to tell at the moment, just the aftermath of several months of stress and hauling behinds.
An update.
On the most part we’re done with the heavy stuff. Everything that had to be taken down is gone, and all that is left is…well, garbage. So much still to haul off, but that is our problem, and not at all city hall’s business. ThereLife goes on, though, which is as it should be. No sense on lingering of could haves and would haves, right? is the rubble down by the old pool apartment that has to be shoved together and covered. With a bit of land fill we should be able to make a terrace there, or something, in the future. There are the leftovers of what used to be the greenhouse that we need to haul off and store, but as of this week the biggest job that was left, grandpa’s roof, was removed. Was harder than anticipated, actually, we all got a little choked up there. I wonder what that is, that choking up bit. I’ve known it was going to happen for a while, have accepted it in a way of “well, f**k it!” and yet there you go: Choking up.
I gotta figure that one out. It’s counterproductive to care about things that you can’t change, and this I can most definitely not change.
But anyway, we tackled the roof for about three to four days, mostly because big Brother and I had a lot of working hours (sorry I’m not writing about work. It takes up a lot of my hours these days but I haven’t got permission to talk about it yet, and I don’t think I would get it if I asked for it. Hah), and what with hauling debris away, getting supplies, going to the garage (I’ll get to that later, by the way) and doing such tedious things as sleeping and eating, we’ve been having to slot in half an hour here, an hour there to get the chore done.
First there were the corrugated plates, which were the hardest. The first four big brother unscrewed and then laboriously shoved to the edge where grandpa and I could grab them. They were friggin’ pain in the behinds, I tell ya. More than three feet wide, twenty-five feet long and barely manageable, size-wise. We were bumbling about like a bunch of drunk construction workers trying to get the darn things wedged behind the new firewood storage. There I was balancing on a steep incline, cacti behind my bum, big metal roofs in front and then sliding on rock. I did some serious swearing, no worries. Considering I can swear in four…well, five languages, it is a good thing I decided a long time ago to keep this blog semi-PG, because otherwise you’re ears would turn all red now. Hah.
Be that as it may, since the plating was too heavy for grandpa regardless, big brother had to get off the roof and come help getting the things in place. They’re now neatly wedged between the shed and rock wall. Yay.
The next shift were the remainder of the plating. This involved grandpa on the roof, because he barely weighs more than a sack of flour and me catching the shorter plating being slid off toward me. I could just imagine what social services would say about that “poor old man” working on the roof…just as I could imagine what grandpa would do for implying that he wouldn’t be able to do it. *snort* These days he’s downright insulted when I suggest I do something in his stead because it might be too much for him. Hah. I know he can do a lot, but sometimes I like to tease him a little. But seriously, from the look of him, no one would guess he’s just a couple of years short of eighty. Whatever he’s doing to keep fit and “young” I’m gonna do the same. I wanna be doing DIY, climbing trees and buildings at eighty, too.
The third evening involved the old black plating of the roof, which were a lot easier. Big brother was punching them up from the nails that held them in place and shoved them down, and I hauled them off to a big pile that we’re going to have to bring to the local land fill soon.
There’s still some stuff that we have to try to store somewhere, but those are details that we’ll have to see to in the next few weeks.
Our temporary kitchen, located on the porch of the house right slabdab in the middle of grandpa’s and my respective sleeping corner, worked out well. I made pictures, but I’ll post them some other day. Same goes for my new bedroom…if a corner can be called such. There’s a bed and about two feet of walking space on the side and bottom. The rest is just filled with what is left of my stuff. I can’t even put my books there…which I shouldn’t think about, because it makes me sad. Grrr. I hate being in a cramped space, it reminds me of the years in the big trailer. *sigh* Gotta look at the positive side: Less cleaning, which is definitely a plus, right?
Doggies. They’re adjusting, though Knight II is a pest at the moment. What with me being away so much he’s not getting enough exercise nor enough attention. His new thing is to grab my wrist and chew on it when I come home, which is painful, not to mention unstoppable. Poor darling. His foot had a bad infection again last week, due to him licking all the skin off again, but luckily regular cleaning stopped that again. It looked almost good yesterday.
After working at the new job two days in a row (once 9 hours once 10 hours, a normal day is 3-4 hours) I discovered that if I get offered a full time position, I’m going to have to decline. Apparently this work is harder on my foot than construction, because unlike at construction where the repetitive motions allow me to adjust my walk in a way that I can keep up, while here, I am walking on burning glass after four to five hours. Most unpleasant. After my ten hour shift, I was about ready to quit. Hah. A pity, but such is life at the moment. If anyone has some miracle cure for Plantars Faciitis that doesn’t involve insoles, I’m open for suggestions. *wink*
The edit. We are in the middle of the paper edit. We’re making good progress and I am still happy with the way it reads. The new parts are in the same “voice” as the old bits, and the changes appear to be working to satisfaction. Now, if only we could finish this edit and the final read through, we could send the darn thing. If anyone reading this wants to play Beta reader, let me know. I’d love some extra input at this point.
I’ll be posting a book review soon. I was finally forced to give up on my phone and get a touch screen thing (2nd hand. Little brother gave me his old one) meaning I can now read Kindle. Decided on Teresa McCullough’s “The First Enhancer” as my first try on it and I hope to write it sometime today. Check back for that.
Had to bring the Land Rover to the garage again. This time a leak of the radiator liquid. Old cars, eh? And ours does suffer some serious abuse on a daily basis. Be that as it may, the garage noticed a small hole in a tube and they patched it to hold out until the new year when we need to have the hand brake adjusted again. It is barely functional at the moment, and that just isn’t safe. I’m going to make those guys a pie, because they have helped us so much these past few months, and despite some minor mistakes (they’re just human after all, hah) the service and personal interaction we get there, makes it worth it to me. There’s nothing I hate more than garages where they placate you with “oh we’ll just put in a new one, little lady” and pretend they don’t think you’re a moron for not knowing the inner workings of an engine. Give me old-school of, let’s see if we can patch that without spending a fortune, any day.
What else. Ooh, I get to gossip in Spanish these days. Two very nice cleaning ladies, well aware of the ongoings in the area. Fun part is, that despite the fact that we were forced to give up on our Spanish lessons (no time nor money for it at the moment) I get to practice a little. The fact that they’re nice ladies only makes it better. By the way, I gave them a taste of my pumpkin salsa mash yesterday, and I got a nice big pot of one day old, organic olive oil in return. Am going to have to experiment with some olive oil recipes.
Which reminds me, I’m planning on doing some cooking experimenting today. Yay. I’m thinking of a yogurt, mango and Golden berries (aka the cape gooseberry) pie. I should have all the ingredients. I’ll let you know how it works out. I, for one, am most curious if the taste I’m imagining in my head will be remotely like what it will be.
Also, I have big plans for cooking today. Haven’t decided what exactly, yet, but it’s gotta be something nice. I so rarely have the time to experiment these days.
Had a sick dog last week. Julia. She’s Cousin Ed’s dog. She was very listless, and after a close look I decided that she was likely to have a uterus infection. The vet wasn’t there, (bank holiday) so we had to postpone bringing her, and put her on antibiotics already. The Vet wondered why I thought it was a uterus infection, at which point I told him (he’s young, still learning the trade from our usual vet) I’d seen it before. Turns out I was right. Poor Julia’s uterus was filled with cysts that had started infecting. The whole mess had to be removed, and since she became a bit septic, she had to stay the weekend. By now she’s her old self again, luckily.
Sally is steadily declining. She doesn’t recognize Cousin Ed anymore, is basically unable to get out of bed, and on most part everyone is just preparing for when she passes on. The doctor doesn’t think it will be long now, which for her will be a blessing, I think.
Tenant is having some trouble adjusting to her new life. It is a lot more lonely for her, (here there was always someone around, even if we were busy) of course, in particular since Cousin Ed needs to make so many arrangements for Sally and their own relocating to a new place. They found a rather nice little house in a small village, and they are having fun decorating it. As soon as they are settled there, we’re going to arrange for Julia and Sammi (their dogs) to be sent over by plane, which should help tenant a bit with her loneliness. I just wish she would find herself something to do, some purpose that will make the time pass faster.
Well, it’s getting late, and there still is a lot to do. I’m going to leave it at this.
Let’s hope I have something a bit more fun and exciting to write about the next time, eh?
Saturday, November 23, 2013
Sit down. Long update with pix.
So. Song of the day…well, let’s just skip that one for a change, eh. Kind of wrecked the ongoing list of songs of the day to find out if there was some sort of mysterious pattern to it by having stopped writing frequent blogs. But what the heck.
So much to tell, so little time to do it in. So strange to be writing this again, in particular after such a long time. I have to say that I missed it. And I will continue to keep missing it since there is no way in hell that I’ll be able to do this blog thing with any frequency in the near future. Life is just too chaotic, I fear. Samaya Young’s World, just isn’t what it used to be. In fact, there are times when it feels as if I am in some sort of alternate universe. But enough about that. By no means do I want to turn this blog into some whiny trip into how very traumatizing the past few month have been. They have, of course, but I’ll get over it. *snort* I’m determined. Life’s about change, and I’m going dive into this change head first, even if it kills me. Hah.
But okay. Where did I leave off, the last time?
Sally, right? The way she went back to her home country, and how it all was like some wonky Mission Impossible kind of thing. But we managed. Yay. You’ll be glad to know that cousin Ed managed to contact Sally’s family, which she hadn’t seen in years and years, and that they have stepped in and are helping her through these final months as best they can. Less pleasant is that while Sally is staying at a nursing home specifically for terminal patients, she is not doing well, and rapidly heading toward that final adventure into the unknown. She is in a lot pain these days, she’s almost blind, and her mind is degrading fast…the latter is a mixed blessing, really, since it allows her to be less aware of all that has happened and is still happening. Not long to go. Not long.
Things have been incredibly strange. I don’t remember if I already mentioned this the last time, but seriously, we had press vans at the gate, for crying out loud. Men and women with microphones and cameras telling the most outrageous lies about us on national TV. I kid you not. So strange, so surreal. Since we got the advice from the lawyer to just not “be home” for them, there were frantic games of cat and mouse to avoid them, until one morning big brother and I were on our way out, only to be waylaid halfway up the drive sweep by a news van and a very persistent camera crew. *sigh* Nothing to it. We had to try. So we spoke with them, told them that they were misinformed, and luckily one of their tech guys had lived in England for years and could translate for us. As it turns out rumor was that we were abusing these poor old folks who had been lured to our illegal senior home. When I heard it, I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry (decided on the first, it was so insane) but here they were, wrecking the lives of two elderly women because of some sort of delusion of a paranoid social worker. Seriously, we heard that the woman cried on national TV while she explained of the horrible conditions in which tenant and Sally were forced to live. There were pictures in the newspaper showing the place where we made dog food, which was where we reportedly made dinner for the ladies. Aaaargh. The stuff that has been said, it was painful, humiliating and such…well, lies! that I was an emotional wreck for quite some time. I have to admit that the whole experience has made me look very differently at the news. Now every time they publish some sort of scandal, I wonder whether they are fabricating everything there, too. Probably. The truth is rarely sensational.
Be that as it may, not only have they wrecked our reputations locally, and forced our dear friends to leave the place they had wanted to spend the remainder of their lives, they also sicked city hall on us. Yep. We had everything from building permission, to sanitary and environmental services banging on our doors, and we were slapped with the proverbial rod with the order to take everything, the cabins, grandpa’s bungalow, the old autobus, the old RV and the derelict apartment by the old pool, away within one month, or else… Added to that was a bill of 60.000 bucks to the city workers that we could hire to clean it all up. *gulp* It was insane. Mom filed a complaint, but we all know how that works, right?
One month to break down 17 years of our lives. Everything except the main house. Big brother and grandpa were assigned to start on that ASAP while I had to divert my attention elsewhere.
Tenant. Lots of change there too. I asked her to decide what she wanted. Staying at the home in Puerto Banus (she hated it there, but she did recover wonderfully), where I would be able to visit her once or twice a week only, or going back to her home country where she could at least be in the vicinity of her daughter. She looked at me teary-eyed and then made a very decisive statement. Back to her home country. So then the planning started. For her and for me because there was just no way for her to travel on her own.
Over there everything would be arranged by cousin Ed who had found a temporary apartment where the two of them would be able to stay for the first three months. She took care of all the official stuff, the doctor’s appointments that would have to be done, a nurse to come check on Tenant the day after arrival, and all those little details that needed to be done to be able to take care of her.
As for my side, there was the packing. A carryon for myself, one for her, along with four big suitcases containing tenant’s clothes and some of cousin Ed’s. That was a lot of planning, in particular since Ryan air has so many restrictions. But let’s face it, I could hardly afford more than that particular company.
But anyway, lots to arrange, lots to plan. The trip was set on the fourteenth of September, and after work and a quick meal made by grandpa, we went to the home to pick Tenant up at four in the afternoon. Our flight was at seven, and she was lying in her bed, swearing at the staff for having put her there even though she hadn’t wanted it. So big brother and I got her ready. Well, I dressed her, and big Brother gathered the last of her wardrobe. We were out of there, like thieves, almost, despite the fact that I said my goodbyes to the kind women in charge who’d helped out so much.
So, the back of the car filled with luggage, big brother drove us to the airport, saw us off six times because we kept forgetting stuff in the car, hah. There was this very nice assistant who work at the airport to help invalids get to where they have to be, and we chatted with him until we were checked in and delivered at our gate. He wished us a good journey, kissed tenant’s hand (that sure made her day) and then left us to wait for our plane for two hours, because we had actually arrived at the right time. Hah.
It wasn’t too bad, we talked some, ate some of the lunch I’d taken along, and then the other passengers started arriving, filing in endlessly leaving us, and another lady in a wheelchair as last. So nice to have the poor old lady being dragged through the plane with everyone watching impatiently. No matter, got busy fast since the guys with the special stretcher had no idea how to get tenant from the stretcher to the chair. I had to do it instead. I grabbed the back of her pants with one hand, her shoulders with the other, and carefully pulled her onto the slippery seat. Since invalids are supposed to be seated by the window, we had to slide two more seats until she was finally settled and I could slide in beside her. What followed were a handful of SMS to everyone to let them know we were on board and about ready to depart, and then the phone had to be switched off and we actually got ready for liftoff.
First time in almost 25 years that I was in a plane again. Very strange experience. I wasn’t afraid, hardly even nervous, I just sat there and waited until we were in the air, trying to catch some glimpses of the outside through the tiny window beside tenant.
The flight was pretty uneventful. I did some reading, some writing, and then we arrived in Germany and were last to depart because they had to call for a special chair to get tenant out. Planes work with stairs, so that is pretty invalid unfriendly. Tenant was afraid first, when they started to wheel her out with the special seat designed to go of stairs, but then we were in a private bus and were transported to the arrivals hall. Everyone else was gone already and our four suitcases were the last one’s circulating. I was in a pickle there. Try navigating a wheelchair and a cart with a grand total of six suitcases. Practically impossible, but we managed. We came through the blinded doors and were watched by a silent group of fifteen or twenty people all watching me struggled with the wheelchair and the cart. Finally an nice old fella took pity on me and offered to help.
Again the waiting, and at a certain point, when I didn’t see her, I called to ask Cousin Ed where she was at. She was at the arrivals hall, alright, except she was, you won’t believe it, at the wrong airport. *sigh* Some odd 65 miles away from us. For her to get there would take more than an hour apparently, and from the sound of it, it was a common problem since both airports basically have the same name. So we waiting longer, wondered if we should take one of the ridiculously expensive coffees, and decided against it while we haunted the arrivals hall.
Finally cousin Ed did arrive and the whole waiting game to an exhausted end. There was the whole, “so sorry, good to see you, how was your trip” thing and then we were finally in the car and on our way to the apartment. It was dark, it was raining, and of course we got lost. Hah.
Though we arrived around ten thirty in the evening, we didn’t actually get to the apartment until after two. *sigh* I was seriously pooped. Did a bit of unpacking for tenant while cousin Ed helped her prepare for bed, and then, around three we were all finally in bed. It was very strange to lie there beside a wonderfully warm radiator. Slept like the dead, thankfully, waking to a cloudy day looking out over a dense forest at the top of the apartment building.
Here, have a look.
Now that’s a forest!
But anyway, managed to wake up enough to get showered, dressed and make breakfast, and then had a small mental melt down. Guess all the tension and stress of the weeks before got to me, and I really had to rush out onto the icy balcony to get myself under control, rather than worry Tenant who was a tad emotional herself already. Got myself under control within minutes, thankfully, and set to getting ourselves and tenant ready to go out. Made it as far as the car when the mental wonkiness started again, and it was all I could do to help put tenant in the car and leave them to it while I headed out down the road. This is what I walked through:
Gorgeous, right?
There is just something incredibly calming about all that green and moisture. Was nice and calm after a few minutes and got in the car so cousin Ed could drive us to town hall where she had to register tenant. I just stood out there, tenant still in the car beside me, taking in all the green and neat houses and friendly folk. Very strange to be there again after all these years. Very much a culture shock, I must say. After that we went to the car rental place where my drivers license had to be added to the contract. I had to be able to get around after all.
What followed was a day filled with bureaucracy, getting lost in the cities of which I remembered very little. The last time I was there, I was sixteen and took stuff for granted. Still there were some familiar spots while we went to town and had French fries for lunch.
Next it was on to the care home where Sally is staying. A desolate looking place, really, and old monastery, I believe with lots of nasty history over the centuries.
Here, have a look:
I love places like that. It breathes history, even if it is creepy.
The people were nice, though, and Sally in good spirits after those first few seconds where she didn’t recognize me. She was more bloated than before, but still Sally. Couldn’t stay too long, the day was rapidly passing, but I promised to come see her again soon, and then went out to do some sightseeing with tenant who had come with me, before we had to go grocery shopping.
Went to some places all three of us remembered from almost two decades ago, saw an old friend and even went to see my childhood house. It didn’t look at all like I remembered, in fact, in my memory it was huge, and now it looked downright tiny. It didn’t help that the new occupants changed a lot of it, leaving only the most basic shapes as familiar. Strangely enough it was the road there that I remembered best, that one curve around the beech tree, the cluster of birches and all that. Very strange all.
It was too late to see much, but I did get a few shots.
Not at all like the picture in my head, I fear. Upper left window used to be my room when I was little. The next two were of our two nephews. Big brother was on the other side. Hah.
Came home to the apartment late, with all three of us pretty exhausted as we rushed through unpacking the groceries and preparing some food. Didn’t get to bed until very late, partly because I had to send out a load of mails home, tenant’s daughter to set up an appointment for the next day, and because I couldn’t get my brain to shut down. Too much input, I think.
The next day the local nurse came to check up on tenant, followed by a visit of the local senior advisor who seemed like an extremely hard woman at first, who was looking at us with grave suspicion when tenant tried to explain what had happened. From what I heard, she hadn’t gotten most of it herself, and thus was telling the woman all sorts of things that only made her more suspicious, then, when it just became too confusing, I couldn’t help it, I started laughing and shaking my head and set the woman right. Once I explained the situation, and that these crazy social workers had put it in everyone’s head that we were some sort of illegal senior home, she relaxed a bit, and even turned out to be very kind, and helpful with all sorts of suggestions for tenant. I guess the fact that we all looked at the verge of tears from time to time helped with that too.l *snort*
I hate being a girl in that regard. Nothing is more wasteful than crying at the drop of a hat. I’m going to plead temporary insanity on that. Grrr.
Managed to do some work on my computer while waiting for tenant’s daughter and son-in-law, and went through a nice visit with pie which tenant’s daughter had been nice enough to bring along…along with some basic kitchen necessities for which we were incredibly grateful. The next step would be to go to 2nd hand stores to get the bare necessities for living, and some nice things to brighten the place up.
Were late getting to bed again, which had us rush through the next morning where tenant had an appointment with her new doctor.
They were late getting back, so I was late departing for the north of the country where I was going to visit an old family friend who would be able to help out with getting us some of those living necessities such as sheets, blankets and towels. Was a nice visit, really. Got to see all her cats, dug through the attic in search of everything we could use and then had to rush back because we hoped that I would be home in time for us to go view a possible permanent living place for tenant…was too late. I was actually making good time on the way back, and then got stuck in traffic before getting lost in the city. Grrr. Cost me a good half hour to get out of that. Hah.
Too late after that, so we gave up on the viewing, unloaded the car of all the handy stuff, and settled tenant in front of the TV. We left her to it and went for a bike ride, something I hadn’t done in more than seventeen years. I could still do it, but I did lose some of my confidence. Hah. It was nice though, despite the cold and the clouds. Nothing like biking through the woods…and a short walk afterward to cool down my thigh muscles. Boy, that was different.
The next day we went to visit Sally again, and this time I sat with her a bit longer, talking about home and anything that struck her fancy. Then it was time to say goodbye. I have to say that I am glad that her mind is rapidly deteriorating because she had very little understanding of my goodbye most likely being permanent. Difficult to say goodbye, isn’t it. In particular if you see a person you’ve known your whole life “disappearing” like that. Can’t be helped, though. Such is life and you can only do what you can. Spent some time in the city, getting some more necessities for tenant and Cousin Ed, and then met them at the appointed spot.
Next we went to visit tenant’s family where we had lunch and then left tenant with them so we could go to the local charity shop to look for furniture, kitchen appliances, lamps and china. A nice trip that, going through the old messes and finding little treasures for bargains. Nothing like haggling a bit either. The bigger stuff would be delivered by van the Monday after my departure, so in that regard both ladies were all set afterward.
Took all the small stuff with us to the apartment, showing it all off to tenant, who enjoyed the show at least.
Which was my last evening there. Went to bed late, which meant that getting up at five was a hardship. But my plane would leave at around eight, and it was at least a two hour drive crossing to Germany and then getting into a panic because we couldn’t find a gas station anywhere. Jeez. We had to get off the highway and find one, just barely in time too, which made us late already before we got stuck in rush hour near two big cities. Were barely on time at the airport, where customs left a row of more than four hundred people waiting before me. Since Cousin Ed had parked the car in front, she couldn’t afford waiting with me. So we said our goodbyes while she went back to pay the meter and hope that she could still catch me. She couldn’t, because by then more desks of customs had opened and the lines went faster. Arrived at my gate ten minutes before the plane arrived.
The trip was uneventful, except that it was stacked to full capacity with beside me a young German man who had forgotten to shower that morning. *sigh* I napped during the flight, and then watched the mountains of Spain slide under me once we got closer to home. Landing went smoothly and then I was out, looking for the airport exit dragging my suitcase. Did way too much walking that day, and my foot was about ready to fall off, but then I saw the Land Rover, and big Brother standing there in the sunshine with Knight II trembling at his side. At first the big lug was just scanning his surroundings and then, his head in my direction he suddenly stopped moving. I could see him think: “hey, that’s familiar” as he slowly lumbered around fully, his entire posture on full attention. I grinned, spread my arms, startling the taxi driver standing between us as I said, “Knightie boy” and saw him put at his leash in response. Fifteen yards to go and Big brother let go of his leash (scaring the taxi driver even more now that he realized why I was making kissy noises), leaving Knight to rush forward in a semi crouch before he launched himself at me. Silly boy. Did the whole hugging and petting thing, then reached the car and tossed my single carryon in the back beside Knight saying, “Let’s get the heck outta here!” Big brother complied and drove home.
Coming home was hard, though. Though big brother and grandpa had already started on my cabin, they had left it there so my dogs would sleep in familiar surroundings at least during my absence. For me that was difficult. Nothing like watching your home being taken apart bit by bit while you have to go through your things and throw away more than three quarters of it. I did a lot of crying in those days. Like I said, I HATE that, and felt pretty much horrible while still going to work every day, and then coming home to take apart more of our lives until there was nothing left. Luckily a glass or two (make that 3-4) at night helps. *snort*
But life has changed drastically, as I said. Most of it is unpleasant, seeing as in the months that passed we did little more than destroy everything that we’ve worked so hard for in the past five years.
Again our mechanics came to the rescue, supplying us with folks who could take out the old buses, but in order to do that, we first had to cut down a handful of trees and hire a bulldozer to create a road so the old 57 passenger bus could be removed. First estimate we got from a local company was 450 per day, 2 to 3 days of work, which was horrifying. Again the mechanics knew someone who’d do it for a hundred less and faster.
In order for the bulldozer to get there in time, we first had to take away the carport (aka our hobby room, fitness room, and living area), which we had to get done within 12 hours if we wanted to have the road done before the weekend. We worked into the late hours of night, but managed. Almost dislocated my shoulder there, since I had to hold onto one of the support beams while big brother cut through it with the chainsaw. It tipped and my shoulder went right with it. Hah. No harm done, though.
So the bulldozer came, dragged out the old RV first, and within six hours he had a path made, grandpa and big brother working right ahead of him to get the trees out of the way in time. He also took down the outside kitchen I never even had the pleasure of using. *sigh*
But, it was quite satisfying to be able to call the metal guys to let them know they could start on getting the buses that Monday.
Here are some shots of the whole thing.
With that done there was a week of keeping track of the dogs and seeing the vehicles with which we arrived in Spain disappear bit by bit.
Here:
And the truck that came to pick it all up:
Also, at the same time, we were taking apart the greenhouse. Such a pity.
Very depressing, and for grandpa it was even worse, because everything reminded him so much of the war when he and his family were cast out of their farm and sent up north with the rest of the refugees.
But anyway, that was done, and we were waiting for the ax to drop in regard to the old apartment by the pool. Three days before city hall’s deadline it became clear that it had to anyway, so we called the guy of the bulldozer only to hear that his machine was in the shop for repairs and that he wouldn’t be able to come until the next week. So frantically we started looking for another one. Finally got someone to come and look, but this guy said he’d need 5-7 days to take the apartment down, and that he’d charge us 450 per day. *gasp* Not doable, and a total hoax. We were in fact so out of sorts the next day Big brother took a sledgehammer just to see what kind of damage he could do with it on the apartment. Within three hours he had the darn apartment to smithereens, (I helped by standing safely on the side saying, “yeah, hit it there…and maybe there. It’s moving, a few more whacks and you’ve got it done! which had us both smirking at the end. 450 a day?! *snort*
Here’re the picks:
But anyway, the old stables are gone now too, along with our thousands of Euros worth of wood supplies which we either had to throw or cut up as firewood. There really is nothing left of…well anything. The house is there, where I now occupy a corner of the porch walled in by my closet with just enough space for my bed and a bit to walk around two parts of it. Very distressing, that. It’s like moving back home, robbing you of independence, privacy and pretty much anything that you value. For me, the Spanish adventure is pretty much over, really. Time here now I see as time to take care of final loose ends, giving my dogs some extra time at the only place they know as home, and cleaning up the mess. Then I am going to see what I am going to do with the rest of my life. It won’t be here in Spain, though.
I need change, and I need time away from here to get over what I can only describe as a tremendous trauma to my soul. It is not easy to lose everything, I assure you. But, whatever healing I need, I can’t do that here. Everything around me reminds me of what is gone, and I have come to hate most of what is left. Maybe at some point in the future I can look back at this with some fond memories, but for now, I want this era over and done with so that I may look to the future, start on it, rather than wait, linger and wait some more. I don’t feel I have the luxury to wait much longer regardless. Time is passing way too fast. *sigh*
I don’t know how I’m going to do this, you know, but I will. I have to, because I fear that if I stay I won’t be able to continue letting go of the hurt, which means that it would at some point break me.
Dramatic, isn’t it? Well, that’s me, right? Miss Drama. Can’t help that anymore than I can stop breathing. Ah well, I’ll let you know how that works out. Hah.
For now, it is continuing cleaning up the messes all the destruction left. Hell, we even had to break down grandpa and tenant’s old place, which didn’t do him well. The past two months aged him incredibly, and like me, I think he needs change too, a chance to breathe, to look to the future rather than the past. Same goes for big brother for that matter. You shrug it off out of necessity, put your foot in front of the other time and again and go on, but it eats at you, doesn’t it. In that regard I am a bit jealous of tenant who is over there starting her new life. Nothing is quite as depressing as cleaning up the old messes.
The fact that the Land Rover is getting more trouble too, and needs repairs doesn't help either, since that really would be the last straw...losing that last stable thing...yuck. It doesn't bear thinking about.
And you think, that everything that has been going on, with tenant and Sally being back where they came from, all the trouble would be over, but no. Just a couple of weeks ago social services were back at the door with a court order to come pick up the two old ladies we’ve been “holding against their will”, or some such nonsense. Where, for crying out loud? In the bathroom? There’s not enough room in the friggin’ main house to turn without bumping into someone, let alone two more people. Jeez. Not only are they cruel, hardheaded and stupid, they are also inept. What, they can’t check the airlines, but they can sic the cops and city hall on us? People like that should be locked up for the damage they do. Right now Sally is dying on her own 3000 km away from here, tenant and cousin Ed are on their own, needing to start from scratch, and there is no way that we can even go and visit them because we’re not done cleaning up yet. The deadline is approaching way too fast.
What else? Well, we lost two more dogs. Old age, mostly, but we did have to decide helping them along when the actual dying took too long. That would be too cruel. Carla and Chiuma. For them...and partly also for us...I'm glad it's over. Their world changed a lot, too.
But such is Samaya Young’s world at the moment. I am still trying to get that book revision done, but time is sparse because every day still involves cleaning up and hauling away the debris of our lives. By the time I sit down for edits after being on my feet for some odd 16 hours, I’m so darn tired I’m cross-eyed from it. Can’t be helped, though. The beginnings of a cold winter don’t help much either. Nor does working every day to pay the bills, too little sleep, and not taking the time for proper food. Hah. There is only so much a body can do, right, and I think that I have reached my limit for the time being. Running on empty and all that. The thing is, you can’t get further without letting go first, is my way of thinking.
Ah well, how wonderfully fatalistic all that sounds, eh? No worries. I’ll get through this. Like that song “When the going gets tough”, and “Bruises” that make life interesting, I too shall persevere…somehow. *wink*
And with that cheery note I’m going to leave it at this…8!!! friggin’ pages again! Oh gawd. I’m sorry. Didn’t mean to hold you up with my maudlin. Gotta go. Lots to do still. Hopefully until soon.
So much to tell, so little time to do it in. So strange to be writing this again, in particular after such a long time. I have to say that I missed it. And I will continue to keep missing it since there is no way in hell that I’ll be able to do this blog thing with any frequency in the near future. Life is just too chaotic, I fear. Samaya Young’s World, just isn’t what it used to be. In fact, there are times when it feels as if I am in some sort of alternate universe. But enough about that. By no means do I want to turn this blog into some whiny trip into how very traumatizing the past few month have been. They have, of course, but I’ll get over it. *snort* I’m determined. Life’s about change, and I’m going dive into this change head first, even if it kills me. Hah.
But okay. Where did I leave off, the last time?
Sally, right? The way she went back to her home country, and how it all was like some wonky Mission Impossible kind of thing. But we managed. Yay. You’ll be glad to know that cousin Ed managed to contact Sally’s family, which she hadn’t seen in years and years, and that they have stepped in and are helping her through these final months as best they can. Less pleasant is that while Sally is staying at a nursing home specifically for terminal patients, she is not doing well, and rapidly heading toward that final adventure into the unknown. She is in a lot pain these days, she’s almost blind, and her mind is degrading fast…the latter is a mixed blessing, really, since it allows her to be less aware of all that has happened and is still happening. Not long to go. Not long.
Things have been incredibly strange. I don’t remember if I already mentioned this the last time, but seriously, we had press vans at the gate, for crying out loud. Men and women with microphones and cameras telling the most outrageous lies about us on national TV. I kid you not. So strange, so surreal. Since we got the advice from the lawyer to just not “be home” for them, there were frantic games of cat and mouse to avoid them, until one morning big brother and I were on our way out, only to be waylaid halfway up the drive sweep by a news van and a very persistent camera crew. *sigh* Nothing to it. We had to try. So we spoke with them, told them that they were misinformed, and luckily one of their tech guys had lived in England for years and could translate for us. As it turns out rumor was that we were abusing these poor old folks who had been lured to our illegal senior home. When I heard it, I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry (decided on the first, it was so insane) but here they were, wrecking the lives of two elderly women because of some sort of delusion of a paranoid social worker. Seriously, we heard that the woman cried on national TV while she explained of the horrible conditions in which tenant and Sally were forced to live. There were pictures in the newspaper showing the place where we made dog food, which was where we reportedly made dinner for the ladies. Aaaargh. The stuff that has been said, it was painful, humiliating and such…well, lies! that I was an emotional wreck for quite some time. I have to admit that the whole experience has made me look very differently at the news. Now every time they publish some sort of scandal, I wonder whether they are fabricating everything there, too. Probably. The truth is rarely sensational.
Be that as it may, not only have they wrecked our reputations locally, and forced our dear friends to leave the place they had wanted to spend the remainder of their lives, they also sicked city hall on us. Yep. We had everything from building permission, to sanitary and environmental services banging on our doors, and we were slapped with the proverbial rod with the order to take everything, the cabins, grandpa’s bungalow, the old autobus, the old RV and the derelict apartment by the old pool, away within one month, or else… Added to that was a bill of 60.000 bucks to the city workers that we could hire to clean it all up. *gulp* It was insane. Mom filed a complaint, but we all know how that works, right?
One month to break down 17 years of our lives. Everything except the main house. Big brother and grandpa were assigned to start on that ASAP while I had to divert my attention elsewhere.
Tenant. Lots of change there too. I asked her to decide what she wanted. Staying at the home in Puerto Banus (she hated it there, but she did recover wonderfully), where I would be able to visit her once or twice a week only, or going back to her home country where she could at least be in the vicinity of her daughter. She looked at me teary-eyed and then made a very decisive statement. Back to her home country. So then the planning started. For her and for me because there was just no way for her to travel on her own.
Over there everything would be arranged by cousin Ed who had found a temporary apartment where the two of them would be able to stay for the first three months. She took care of all the official stuff, the doctor’s appointments that would have to be done, a nurse to come check on Tenant the day after arrival, and all those little details that needed to be done to be able to take care of her.
As for my side, there was the packing. A carryon for myself, one for her, along with four big suitcases containing tenant’s clothes and some of cousin Ed’s. That was a lot of planning, in particular since Ryan air has so many restrictions. But let’s face it, I could hardly afford more than that particular company.
But anyway, lots to arrange, lots to plan. The trip was set on the fourteenth of September, and after work and a quick meal made by grandpa, we went to the home to pick Tenant up at four in the afternoon. Our flight was at seven, and she was lying in her bed, swearing at the staff for having put her there even though she hadn’t wanted it. So big brother and I got her ready. Well, I dressed her, and big Brother gathered the last of her wardrobe. We were out of there, like thieves, almost, despite the fact that I said my goodbyes to the kind women in charge who’d helped out so much.
So, the back of the car filled with luggage, big brother drove us to the airport, saw us off six times because we kept forgetting stuff in the car, hah. There was this very nice assistant who work at the airport to help invalids get to where they have to be, and we chatted with him until we were checked in and delivered at our gate. He wished us a good journey, kissed tenant’s hand (that sure made her day) and then left us to wait for our plane for two hours, because we had actually arrived at the right time. Hah.
It wasn’t too bad, we talked some, ate some of the lunch I’d taken along, and then the other passengers started arriving, filing in endlessly leaving us, and another lady in a wheelchair as last. So nice to have the poor old lady being dragged through the plane with everyone watching impatiently. No matter, got busy fast since the guys with the special stretcher had no idea how to get tenant from the stretcher to the chair. I had to do it instead. I grabbed the back of her pants with one hand, her shoulders with the other, and carefully pulled her onto the slippery seat. Since invalids are supposed to be seated by the window, we had to slide two more seats until she was finally settled and I could slide in beside her. What followed were a handful of SMS to everyone to let them know we were on board and about ready to depart, and then the phone had to be switched off and we actually got ready for liftoff.
First time in almost 25 years that I was in a plane again. Very strange experience. I wasn’t afraid, hardly even nervous, I just sat there and waited until we were in the air, trying to catch some glimpses of the outside through the tiny window beside tenant.
The flight was pretty uneventful. I did some reading, some writing, and then we arrived in Germany and were last to depart because they had to call for a special chair to get tenant out. Planes work with stairs, so that is pretty invalid unfriendly. Tenant was afraid first, when they started to wheel her out with the special seat designed to go of stairs, but then we were in a private bus and were transported to the arrivals hall. Everyone else was gone already and our four suitcases were the last one’s circulating. I was in a pickle there. Try navigating a wheelchair and a cart with a grand total of six suitcases. Practically impossible, but we managed. We came through the blinded doors and were watched by a silent group of fifteen or twenty people all watching me struggled with the wheelchair and the cart. Finally an nice old fella took pity on me and offered to help.
Again the waiting, and at a certain point, when I didn’t see her, I called to ask Cousin Ed where she was at. She was at the arrivals hall, alright, except she was, you won’t believe it, at the wrong airport. *sigh* Some odd 65 miles away from us. For her to get there would take more than an hour apparently, and from the sound of it, it was a common problem since both airports basically have the same name. So we waiting longer, wondered if we should take one of the ridiculously expensive coffees, and decided against it while we haunted the arrivals hall.
Finally cousin Ed did arrive and the whole waiting game to an exhausted end. There was the whole, “so sorry, good to see you, how was your trip” thing and then we were finally in the car and on our way to the apartment. It was dark, it was raining, and of course we got lost. Hah.
Though we arrived around ten thirty in the evening, we didn’t actually get to the apartment until after two. *sigh* I was seriously pooped. Did a bit of unpacking for tenant while cousin Ed helped her prepare for bed, and then, around three we were all finally in bed. It was very strange to lie there beside a wonderfully warm radiator. Slept like the dead, thankfully, waking to a cloudy day looking out over a dense forest at the top of the apartment building.
Here, have a look.
Now that’s a forest!
But anyway, managed to wake up enough to get showered, dressed and make breakfast, and then had a small mental melt down. Guess all the tension and stress of the weeks before got to me, and I really had to rush out onto the icy balcony to get myself under control, rather than worry Tenant who was a tad emotional herself already. Got myself under control within minutes, thankfully, and set to getting ourselves and tenant ready to go out. Made it as far as the car when the mental wonkiness started again, and it was all I could do to help put tenant in the car and leave them to it while I headed out down the road. This is what I walked through:
Gorgeous, right?
There is just something incredibly calming about all that green and moisture. Was nice and calm after a few minutes and got in the car so cousin Ed could drive us to town hall where she had to register tenant. I just stood out there, tenant still in the car beside me, taking in all the green and neat houses and friendly folk. Very strange to be there again after all these years. Very much a culture shock, I must say. After that we went to the car rental place where my drivers license had to be added to the contract. I had to be able to get around after all.
What followed was a day filled with bureaucracy, getting lost in the cities of which I remembered very little. The last time I was there, I was sixteen and took stuff for granted. Still there were some familiar spots while we went to town and had French fries for lunch.
Next it was on to the care home where Sally is staying. A desolate looking place, really, and old monastery, I believe with lots of nasty history over the centuries.
Here, have a look:
I love places like that. It breathes history, even if it is creepy.
The people were nice, though, and Sally in good spirits after those first few seconds where she didn’t recognize me. She was more bloated than before, but still Sally. Couldn’t stay too long, the day was rapidly passing, but I promised to come see her again soon, and then went out to do some sightseeing with tenant who had come with me, before we had to go grocery shopping.
Went to some places all three of us remembered from almost two decades ago, saw an old friend and even went to see my childhood house. It didn’t look at all like I remembered, in fact, in my memory it was huge, and now it looked downright tiny. It didn’t help that the new occupants changed a lot of it, leaving only the most basic shapes as familiar. Strangely enough it was the road there that I remembered best, that one curve around the beech tree, the cluster of birches and all that. Very strange all.
It was too late to see much, but I did get a few shots.
Not at all like the picture in my head, I fear. Upper left window used to be my room when I was little. The next two were of our two nephews. Big brother was on the other side. Hah.
Came home to the apartment late, with all three of us pretty exhausted as we rushed through unpacking the groceries and preparing some food. Didn’t get to bed until very late, partly because I had to send out a load of mails home, tenant’s daughter to set up an appointment for the next day, and because I couldn’t get my brain to shut down. Too much input, I think.
The next day the local nurse came to check up on tenant, followed by a visit of the local senior advisor who seemed like an extremely hard woman at first, who was looking at us with grave suspicion when tenant tried to explain what had happened. From what I heard, she hadn’t gotten most of it herself, and thus was telling the woman all sorts of things that only made her more suspicious, then, when it just became too confusing, I couldn’t help it, I started laughing and shaking my head and set the woman right. Once I explained the situation, and that these crazy social workers had put it in everyone’s head that we were some sort of illegal senior home, she relaxed a bit, and even turned out to be very kind, and helpful with all sorts of suggestions for tenant. I guess the fact that we all looked at the verge of tears from time to time helped with that too.l *snort*
I hate being a girl in that regard. Nothing is more wasteful than crying at the drop of a hat. I’m going to plead temporary insanity on that. Grrr.
Managed to do some work on my computer while waiting for tenant’s daughter and son-in-law, and went through a nice visit with pie which tenant’s daughter had been nice enough to bring along…along with some basic kitchen necessities for which we were incredibly grateful. The next step would be to go to 2nd hand stores to get the bare necessities for living, and some nice things to brighten the place up.
Were late getting to bed again, which had us rush through the next morning where tenant had an appointment with her new doctor.
They were late getting back, so I was late departing for the north of the country where I was going to visit an old family friend who would be able to help out with getting us some of those living necessities such as sheets, blankets and towels. Was a nice visit, really. Got to see all her cats, dug through the attic in search of everything we could use and then had to rush back because we hoped that I would be home in time for us to go view a possible permanent living place for tenant…was too late. I was actually making good time on the way back, and then got stuck in traffic before getting lost in the city. Grrr. Cost me a good half hour to get out of that. Hah.
Too late after that, so we gave up on the viewing, unloaded the car of all the handy stuff, and settled tenant in front of the TV. We left her to it and went for a bike ride, something I hadn’t done in more than seventeen years. I could still do it, but I did lose some of my confidence. Hah. It was nice though, despite the cold and the clouds. Nothing like biking through the woods…and a short walk afterward to cool down my thigh muscles. Boy, that was different.
The next day we went to visit Sally again, and this time I sat with her a bit longer, talking about home and anything that struck her fancy. Then it was time to say goodbye. I have to say that I am glad that her mind is rapidly deteriorating because she had very little understanding of my goodbye most likely being permanent. Difficult to say goodbye, isn’t it. In particular if you see a person you’ve known your whole life “disappearing” like that. Can’t be helped, though. Such is life and you can only do what you can. Spent some time in the city, getting some more necessities for tenant and Cousin Ed, and then met them at the appointed spot.
Next we went to visit tenant’s family where we had lunch and then left tenant with them so we could go to the local charity shop to look for furniture, kitchen appliances, lamps and china. A nice trip that, going through the old messes and finding little treasures for bargains. Nothing like haggling a bit either. The bigger stuff would be delivered by van the Monday after my departure, so in that regard both ladies were all set afterward.
Took all the small stuff with us to the apartment, showing it all off to tenant, who enjoyed the show at least.
Which was my last evening there. Went to bed late, which meant that getting up at five was a hardship. But my plane would leave at around eight, and it was at least a two hour drive crossing to Germany and then getting into a panic because we couldn’t find a gas station anywhere. Jeez. We had to get off the highway and find one, just barely in time too, which made us late already before we got stuck in rush hour near two big cities. Were barely on time at the airport, where customs left a row of more than four hundred people waiting before me. Since Cousin Ed had parked the car in front, she couldn’t afford waiting with me. So we said our goodbyes while she went back to pay the meter and hope that she could still catch me. She couldn’t, because by then more desks of customs had opened and the lines went faster. Arrived at my gate ten minutes before the plane arrived.
The trip was uneventful, except that it was stacked to full capacity with beside me a young German man who had forgotten to shower that morning. *sigh* I napped during the flight, and then watched the mountains of Spain slide under me once we got closer to home. Landing went smoothly and then I was out, looking for the airport exit dragging my suitcase. Did way too much walking that day, and my foot was about ready to fall off, but then I saw the Land Rover, and big Brother standing there in the sunshine with Knight II trembling at his side. At first the big lug was just scanning his surroundings and then, his head in my direction he suddenly stopped moving. I could see him think: “hey, that’s familiar” as he slowly lumbered around fully, his entire posture on full attention. I grinned, spread my arms, startling the taxi driver standing between us as I said, “Knightie boy” and saw him put at his leash in response. Fifteen yards to go and Big brother let go of his leash (scaring the taxi driver even more now that he realized why I was making kissy noises), leaving Knight to rush forward in a semi crouch before he launched himself at me. Silly boy. Did the whole hugging and petting thing, then reached the car and tossed my single carryon in the back beside Knight saying, “Let’s get the heck outta here!” Big brother complied and drove home.
Coming home was hard, though. Though big brother and grandpa had already started on my cabin, they had left it there so my dogs would sleep in familiar surroundings at least during my absence. For me that was difficult. Nothing like watching your home being taken apart bit by bit while you have to go through your things and throw away more than three quarters of it. I did a lot of crying in those days. Like I said, I HATE that, and felt pretty much horrible while still going to work every day, and then coming home to take apart more of our lives until there was nothing left. Luckily a glass or two (make that 3-4) at night helps. *snort*
But life has changed drastically, as I said. Most of it is unpleasant, seeing as in the months that passed we did little more than destroy everything that we’ve worked so hard for in the past five years.
Again our mechanics came to the rescue, supplying us with folks who could take out the old buses, but in order to do that, we first had to cut down a handful of trees and hire a bulldozer to create a road so the old 57 passenger bus could be removed. First estimate we got from a local company was 450 per day, 2 to 3 days of work, which was horrifying. Again the mechanics knew someone who’d do it for a hundred less and faster.
In order for the bulldozer to get there in time, we first had to take away the carport (aka our hobby room, fitness room, and living area), which we had to get done within 12 hours if we wanted to have the road done before the weekend. We worked into the late hours of night, but managed. Almost dislocated my shoulder there, since I had to hold onto one of the support beams while big brother cut through it with the chainsaw. It tipped and my shoulder went right with it. Hah. No harm done, though.
So the bulldozer came, dragged out the old RV first, and within six hours he had a path made, grandpa and big brother working right ahead of him to get the trees out of the way in time. He also took down the outside kitchen I never even had the pleasure of using. *sigh*
But, it was quite satisfying to be able to call the metal guys to let them know they could start on getting the buses that Monday.
Here are some shots of the whole thing.
With that done there was a week of keeping track of the dogs and seeing the vehicles with which we arrived in Spain disappear bit by bit.
Here:
And the truck that came to pick it all up:
Also, at the same time, we were taking apart the greenhouse. Such a pity.
Very depressing, and for grandpa it was even worse, because everything reminded him so much of the war when he and his family were cast out of their farm and sent up north with the rest of the refugees.
But anyway, that was done, and we were waiting for the ax to drop in regard to the old apartment by the pool. Three days before city hall’s deadline it became clear that it had to anyway, so we called the guy of the bulldozer only to hear that his machine was in the shop for repairs and that he wouldn’t be able to come until the next week. So frantically we started looking for another one. Finally got someone to come and look, but this guy said he’d need 5-7 days to take the apartment down, and that he’d charge us 450 per day. *gasp* Not doable, and a total hoax. We were in fact so out of sorts the next day Big brother took a sledgehammer just to see what kind of damage he could do with it on the apartment. Within three hours he had the darn apartment to smithereens, (I helped by standing safely on the side saying, “yeah, hit it there…and maybe there. It’s moving, a few more whacks and you’ve got it done! which had us both smirking at the end. 450 a day?! *snort*
Here’re the picks:
But anyway, the old stables are gone now too, along with our thousands of Euros worth of wood supplies which we either had to throw or cut up as firewood. There really is nothing left of…well anything. The house is there, where I now occupy a corner of the porch walled in by my closet with just enough space for my bed and a bit to walk around two parts of it. Very distressing, that. It’s like moving back home, robbing you of independence, privacy and pretty much anything that you value. For me, the Spanish adventure is pretty much over, really. Time here now I see as time to take care of final loose ends, giving my dogs some extra time at the only place they know as home, and cleaning up the mess. Then I am going to see what I am going to do with the rest of my life. It won’t be here in Spain, though.
I need change, and I need time away from here to get over what I can only describe as a tremendous trauma to my soul. It is not easy to lose everything, I assure you. But, whatever healing I need, I can’t do that here. Everything around me reminds me of what is gone, and I have come to hate most of what is left. Maybe at some point in the future I can look back at this with some fond memories, but for now, I want this era over and done with so that I may look to the future, start on it, rather than wait, linger and wait some more. I don’t feel I have the luxury to wait much longer regardless. Time is passing way too fast. *sigh*
I don’t know how I’m going to do this, you know, but I will. I have to, because I fear that if I stay I won’t be able to continue letting go of the hurt, which means that it would at some point break me.
Dramatic, isn’t it? Well, that’s me, right? Miss Drama. Can’t help that anymore than I can stop breathing. Ah well, I’ll let you know how that works out. Hah.
For now, it is continuing cleaning up the messes all the destruction left. Hell, we even had to break down grandpa and tenant’s old place, which didn’t do him well. The past two months aged him incredibly, and like me, I think he needs change too, a chance to breathe, to look to the future rather than the past. Same goes for big brother for that matter. You shrug it off out of necessity, put your foot in front of the other time and again and go on, but it eats at you, doesn’t it. In that regard I am a bit jealous of tenant who is over there starting her new life. Nothing is quite as depressing as cleaning up the old messes.
The fact that the Land Rover is getting more trouble too, and needs repairs doesn't help either, since that really would be the last straw...losing that last stable thing...yuck. It doesn't bear thinking about.
And you think, that everything that has been going on, with tenant and Sally being back where they came from, all the trouble would be over, but no. Just a couple of weeks ago social services were back at the door with a court order to come pick up the two old ladies we’ve been “holding against their will”, or some such nonsense. Where, for crying out loud? In the bathroom? There’s not enough room in the friggin’ main house to turn without bumping into someone, let alone two more people. Jeez. Not only are they cruel, hardheaded and stupid, they are also inept. What, they can’t check the airlines, but they can sic the cops and city hall on us? People like that should be locked up for the damage they do. Right now Sally is dying on her own 3000 km away from here, tenant and cousin Ed are on their own, needing to start from scratch, and there is no way that we can even go and visit them because we’re not done cleaning up yet. The deadline is approaching way too fast.
What else? Well, we lost two more dogs. Old age, mostly, but we did have to decide helping them along when the actual dying took too long. That would be too cruel. Carla and Chiuma. For them...and partly also for us...I'm glad it's over. Their world changed a lot, too.
But such is Samaya Young’s world at the moment. I am still trying to get that book revision done, but time is sparse because every day still involves cleaning up and hauling away the debris of our lives. By the time I sit down for edits after being on my feet for some odd 16 hours, I’m so darn tired I’m cross-eyed from it. Can’t be helped, though. The beginnings of a cold winter don’t help much either. Nor does working every day to pay the bills, too little sleep, and not taking the time for proper food. Hah. There is only so much a body can do, right, and I think that I have reached my limit for the time being. Running on empty and all that. The thing is, you can’t get further without letting go first, is my way of thinking.
Ah well, how wonderfully fatalistic all that sounds, eh? No worries. I’ll get through this. Like that song “When the going gets tough”, and “Bruises” that make life interesting, I too shall persevere…somehow. *wink*
And with that cheery note I’m going to leave it at this…8!!! friggin’ pages again! Oh gawd. I’m sorry. Didn’t mean to hold you up with my maudlin. Gotta go. Lots to do still. Hopefully until soon.
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