Muted
I want to talk about my relationship stuff right now. I'm in a situation where my boundaries have been trespassed so the bubble they protect needs to get bigger. I need to compromise less, to be, well, not less understanding but less willing to bend. I need to pull harder on Threshold, my primary relationship, and invest more time and love into that one.
I probably also need to start nosing around for someone who's into kitchen-table-style and maybe cometary poly with my land. It's a big ask but I'm in no hurry. There are folks out there as nomadic as I am rooted. Threshold accepts all comers; like my heart it's full of the fingerprints of everyone who's been and worked here: I will always have built the pigshed with Josh, whatever happens to that relationship; I will always have built the quailshed and wheelbarrowed dirt into the garden its first year with Tucker even if we end up not speaking again; Robyn will always have built my firewood retainers with me. I find these traces of people comforting; they can leave my life but they can never /not have been there/. In every case, even if there's pain, the memories are a reminder of love.
I still can't quite set down the core of what's going on. My hope, I suppose, is that I'll be able to talk it out with Tucker and come to a workable resolution. The reality is that things have changed substantially regardless of what the resolution is. My internal part of the story won't change. Still, still. Still. I'm not ready to write the eulogy.
Because I'm not ready to write about what I want to write about, I'm just reaching out for contact. I'm inscribing myself in these words and so coming to believe that I am more than these wait-and-hope issues that have surrounded me and prevented me from going forward. I'm not good at waiting; I disappear into it. I am better at multitasking, at going and doing something else for awhile, then at coming back when it's time.
So last night, instead of waiting, I resurrected my 4runner. She's been sitting in the driveway for a year, since I started using the company truck. Originally she had a battery charger on her but unbeknownst to me the geese pulled it out of the wall and the battery went unregistrable-dead. I bought a new battery and was going to install it, well, soon: I lose the company truck next Friday so I need to make sure she runs.
But with these freeze-thaw cycles her tires were going flat finally, so I needed to get the air compressor out of her trunk. Problem is, her automatic locks wouldn't open without the battery. Josh said swapping in the battery was easy and honestly it was; after the kind of tools I grew up with socket sets are miraculous. and the whole thing was done very quickly. Then I got the tires filled - she's still in winters from last year so she's legal - and got her moving.
I'd forgotten how much learning curve there is on vehicles; the word truck just went in for maintenance every 5000km and I didn't really have to know how to do much. It's good to have her going again. I do think I need to find a trailer to haul feed with though. I'm waffling between a flatdeck (more work for the usual uses but more versatile) and a stock trailer (could leave feed in and don't even have to unload and it's bear safe; can actually move animals easily in an emergency). A cargo trailer might be the best of both worlds, jury-riggable in case of a wildfire to move animals but with fewer constraints on the internal space.
The freeze has paused here. It rained all night and everything's mud. I'll be picking up sticks and baling twine so the snowblower can wander around without dying, and I'll be trying to set a foundation for the snowblower shed.
First, though, I do a last feed run with the truck, consult about a new kitten, and spend some thanksgiving time with my boss-for-one-more-week.
I probably also need to start nosing around for someone who's into kitchen-table-style and maybe cometary poly with my land. It's a big ask but I'm in no hurry. There are folks out there as nomadic as I am rooted. Threshold accepts all comers; like my heart it's full of the fingerprints of everyone who's been and worked here: I will always have built the pigshed with Josh, whatever happens to that relationship; I will always have built the quailshed and wheelbarrowed dirt into the garden its first year with Tucker even if we end up not speaking again; Robyn will always have built my firewood retainers with me. I find these traces of people comforting; they can leave my life but they can never /not have been there/. In every case, even if there's pain, the memories are a reminder of love.
I still can't quite set down the core of what's going on. My hope, I suppose, is that I'll be able to talk it out with Tucker and come to a workable resolution. The reality is that things have changed substantially regardless of what the resolution is. My internal part of the story won't change. Still, still. Still. I'm not ready to write the eulogy.
Because I'm not ready to write about what I want to write about, I'm just reaching out for contact. I'm inscribing myself in these words and so coming to believe that I am more than these wait-and-hope issues that have surrounded me and prevented me from going forward. I'm not good at waiting; I disappear into it. I am better at multitasking, at going and doing something else for awhile, then at coming back when it's time.
So last night, instead of waiting, I resurrected my 4runner. She's been sitting in the driveway for a year, since I started using the company truck. Originally she had a battery charger on her but unbeknownst to me the geese pulled it out of the wall and the battery went unregistrable-dead. I bought a new battery and was going to install it, well, soon: I lose the company truck next Friday so I need to make sure she runs.
But with these freeze-thaw cycles her tires were going flat finally, so I needed to get the air compressor out of her trunk. Problem is, her automatic locks wouldn't open without the battery. Josh said swapping in the battery was easy and honestly it was; after the kind of tools I grew up with socket sets are miraculous. and the whole thing was done very quickly. Then I got the tires filled - she's still in winters from last year so she's legal - and got her moving.
I'd forgotten how much learning curve there is on vehicles; the word truck just went in for maintenance every 5000km and I didn't really have to know how to do much. It's good to have her going again. I do think I need to find a trailer to haul feed with though. I'm waffling between a flatdeck (more work for the usual uses but more versatile) and a stock trailer (could leave feed in and don't even have to unload and it's bear safe; can actually move animals easily in an emergency). A cargo trailer might be the best of both worlds, jury-riggable in case of a wildfire to move animals but with fewer constraints on the internal space.
The freeze has paused here. It rained all night and everything's mud. I'll be picking up sticks and baling twine so the snowblower can wander around without dying, and I'll be trying to set a foundation for the snowblower shed.
First, though, I do a last feed run with the truck, consult about a new kitten, and spend some thanksgiving time with my boss-for-one-more-week.