Exercises in patience
everything is fine, probably
Everything has been on delay or some kind of inconvenience lately. They’re all small things for the most part. First world problems. I couldn’t get scheduled for a recall on our car, then found a different place to take it, and when I showed up, there was a very long line of cars extending into the cross-street, with traffic zipping around at 40+ mph, and I felt unsafe waiting there, in the dark—because it is so dark at 7 am, now—so I left and rescheduled. My in-laws bought me a beautiful desk—now officially the fanciest thing we own, by far—and it was incorrectly drilled, so it couldn’t be assembled using the hardware we had. When I found substitute hardware and managed to put it together, it swayed, so we sent it back. The new desk that we’ve picked in its place is even prettier—we’ve seen it in person, and this one comes fully assembled, thank goodness—but will take another four months to get here. Lately, I just sit on my bed and work, or on the floor, or at the kitchen table, because the frame of the old desk is racked, and rattles when you type on it, so we moved it to the entryway of our apartment, a place to catch keys and mail and phones. I never had many cavities or problems with my teeth and suddenly have two that require significant attention, and with it, dental anxiety for the very first time in my life. My dentist retired and I wasn’t sure about her replacement, so I spent a day trying to find someone female and affordable and in our neck of the woods; when I went to see the recommended dentist, she said I would need a lot more work, so now maybe I’ll just go back to the person who took over my original dentist’s practice. I tried to get pottery plaster (which is harder and denser than Plaster of Paris; it makes a great tabletop if you are reclaiming clay, and what folks use for molds when slipcasting) and all the usual suppliers are out. If you can get it, suddenly plaster is $100 a bag. It used to be $20. There is no EPK right now, either. We received a notice stating that our property taxes increased 31%, which is a bit terrifying, but we will figure it out. Yes, we contested them, as we try to do; our building is frame, with an obsolete brick foundation—but this is the “final” value. Then, I threw out my back, out of nowhere, and couldn’t walk for two days, and so I had to baby myself a little, though I am a bad patient. And then I went to see the cardiologist for my weird EKG. My EKG is, perhaps unfortunately, still weird. Alas.
There are good things too: some of the construction in our neighborhood is finally abating, or at least offering a temporary reprieve. The city is replacing our water main for free, having disturbed several lines during sewer construction, which feels like some kind of miracle (I looked into doing this years ago, as our line was originally plumbed for single family, instead of our three unit building; I was quoted $20-30,000). Some of our neighbors are also celebrating, as they’re getting new water lines too, though nobody is looking forward to more construction. It is finally fall in the Midwest and we do that well here. Millie snuffles in the leaves on our walks. When it’s raining, she wears a small purple dog coat, which she loves, though she feels the Velcro closure is a little growly. I am making progress on my book. I am continuing to start more and more plants for spring transplant (or I may accidentally make a native plant nursery. We will see—I have bergamot and blue sage established so far, with fourteen additional species to come). Our apartment is warm and dry and has no major pressing issues that need to be fixed immediately, though I keep an eye on the water heater, just in case. Things are, in fact, totally fine, and probably even good, all things considered. I know I am speaking from a place of extraordinary privilege. It all just feels wonky to me anyway.
Last week, Ori went to Boston for work. He only goes once a year, a couple of days. Typically, when he’s gone, I try to finish a house project or two. To cross something off the list. But because my back was not really working properly, I was less useful in this regard. So I tried to clean the house a little, dust surfaces, throw out some rind of something forgotten in a refrigerator drawer. I was not especially productive, but I tried to be slow, to focus on the things I could make happen myself. When he returned, he helped me rearrange the furniture again, as a way to make a new experience out of what would otherwise be the same old story. I used to need to move every few years—I’d get bored. Now I rearrange the furniture, clean and dust, repaint a wall, organize the books so they look different on their shelves. And now that my back works properly again, I am back at the wheel, too, making weird pots.
This week has been Essay Camp, hosted by Summer Brennan. It’s not too late to join. It’s free. And tomorrow is the start of daylight savings for most, so if you write in the mornings, like I do, you will have more daylight then. Almost makes up for the darkness at the end of the day.