I have never struggled with knowing the right thing to say. Quite the contrary, I believe I’d have been a wonderful speech writer or political strategist. Someone behind the curtain as it were. And that is because though I know what to say, how to spin something, I have terrible difficulty actually getting the words out of my mouth. I get much more credit for speaking plainly.
So. We moved into the new house this week. Three long, hard years of building and at last we’re in. This is where I should say that I am so grateful that all of our hard work has paid off and I absolutely love the new digs. Especially as compared to Mouse-House (named for the plentiful rodents that keep making their way indoors) where we’ve made due during the construction phase.
“I’m enjoying not only the fruits of our labour but the pioneering aspects of our new life, such as hauling wood and starting a fire in the morning to cut through the chilly air.” But that would remind me of the time a good fellow in Oregon told me that we would “fall in love with the healthy and abundant vegetarian fare served during the course of the weeklong workshop.” A special way of describing the pots of beige and of green mush served for every meal, all week long. I have (almost) never been so desperate for a steak or something- anything- that I could chew in my life.
The fact is- I am not happy, yet. I’m f*cking cold to be brutally honest. And I cannot stand to be cold. Many (many) years ago I spent a period of time on the streets, homeless. Not a lot of people know that about me and I don’t spend much time thinking about it, but I did make myself two promises all those years ago. That when I finally made my way out of that situation I would never go hungry or cold again. (I’ve since added I will never again live with rodents to the list.)
The rocket mass heater that worked so beautifully last year is completely useless at the moment. And it was our main source of heat for the living room, which borders our bedroom. It is brutal in there. My shoulders are sore by mid-morning from crunching them up to my ears. I’ve taken to warming bricks on the wood stove and packing them inside of rice sacks so that I can at least keep my feet warm in living room. But I hate it. Hate, hate, hate it.
Now I’m pretty rough and tumble as a general rule. I can work like nobody’s business, I’m fine with injuries, long hours, the sight of my blood has never bothered me- or slowed me down for that matter. I’m who you want around if there is a serious crisis, or if you’ve suffered a severe injury. Unless you’re looking for a nursemaid, or require coddling- then I’m definitely not your girl. But if it falls into the category of “hungry” or “cold” (and now “mouse-infested”) I am one of the most vocal, whiniest b*tches you ever want to meet.
I don’t know how many times a person can say, “I can’t live like this” in four days but I’m sure I’ve already hit a record and the day’s not done yet. This morning I actually said to Shane that, “I guess my new retirement plan is just to die young because I’m sure I’ll be completely crippled and useless by 50 at this rate.” It was a struggle to get the words out without my own mouth dropping open from the absurdity and overblown nature of the statement but I kept a straight face- because it’s important to me to look earnest when I’m in full-on whining mode.
You might wonder how Shane is holding up to all of this. Remarkably well, but he is the strongest person I have ever met- and I say that having very high standards of what rates. He has a higher tolerance for cold than I do, by a long shot. And he’s very easy going, so he’s sure that we will solve this problem. I’m probably wearing on him more quickly than any other hardship will. And if I’m being honest- I’m only partly bothered by that, because I need him to fix this and now. There’s not a lot that I need help with, or will admit to, but by the time I get to seeking Shane’s help it’s because I want it done yesterday.
It’s a lot of pressure to put on one guy. Before you send me comments, you should know that I’m aware of that. And I do- somewhat- feel badly about that. I have bursts of, “oh we can do this- we’ve handled tougher” and other sunshiney bullsh*t moments. And those are strictly for his benefit. So I’m trying as best as I can. There are some things that I’ve even enjoyed about the new house- and once I’m in better spirits I’ll share those with you. But in the meantime, I’m cold. (Well, not at this very moment because I’m back at Mouse House, with the heat cranked so high that I could easily walk around naked.)
So- not exactly a ringing endorsement for this pioneering lifestyle that we’ve embarked on. As I started with- I could tell a different, and still true, story that might make you want to join us on this quest for a more simple, environmentally friendly life. And I’m sure over time that I will. But it doesn’t happen to be what I’m feeling in this moment, so you’re left with the harsher side of reality for today.