unpacking – The Hermits' Rest

Confessions: I Hate Unpacking and Worry about Drew

I’ll get this out of the way then share today’s events in our little ranch world. Yes. I hate unpacking. I especially hate it right now when every box is a surprise that I’m not prepared for. That’s what I get for not doing the packing on my previous abode.

Lee is very kind and has been bringing one or two boxes a day. Yesterday I found my collection of purple glass, which once lived in my periwinkle bathroom. I no longer have a periwinkle bathroom. So it’s in my terra-cotta bathroom window. I do have a purple guest bath, so maybe it can go there one day, when it isn’t actively in use.

This interlude is brought to you by melting ice.

I’ve had to figure out where many things go that I don’t have places for, since the big furniture items aren’t over here yet, most of which are storage items. Yay. I really need a linen closet, too, and maybe when the laundry room cabinets no longer hold stereo equipment, I can use that. Until then, bags and boxes sit around and bother me.

In good news of our tiny world, it looks like Buttercup, Peeper’s mom, has started laying again. That made me happy, until the egg slipped out of my hand and cracked. Egg. It’s for dinner.

In bad news, Drew is a bit of a mess. He had an injury on his leg when he was at Tarrin’s. We were not concerned. I accidentally hit it when grooming a couple of weeks ago, and it spurted blood, which I mentioned, I’m pretty sure. I was glad there was so much first aid stuff in the new trailer.

Well, today when I fed him, his little leg was all red. He must have gotten kicked or something. The water is all turned off because of the cold, so I could not work on it. I think the weather is getting better, so tomorrow or Sunday he can get a bath. He does have fancy new shampoo, though, to make him shiny and whiter.

What I wish Drew and I were doing. Photo by *@jesslowcher via Twenty20*.

Also, though, the other horses are hard on him, and he has all these missing hunks of hair. The older four horses who are here are always going after each other, so I guess he is getting it. I’m sure it’s normal, but Apache and Spice were never that nippy, so it’s new to me.

Fighting for dominance is everywhere, I guess, even our little world. Don’t get me started with chickens and the pecking order.

Being Adult about Christmas and Unpacking is Necessary

Today I had to do grownup things. Things I do not enjoy doing and that exhaust me physically and mentally. I cleaned up some stuff that had been sitting around too long, and the hardest part was taking all the ornaments off my “nature tree,” which is this weird leafless artificial tree we’ve had up in this house since we started building it, even before it was finished. I used to put it in the closet every year, but there is a bunch of padding from Lee’s sleeping arrangements. The really cute lights stopped working a couple of years ago, so it was time to remove it.

Poor nature tree is all naked and about to be peed on by Alfred. I am washing it tomorrow.

Plus, my autumn tree had gotten knocked down by some dogs one time when I was gone (I came home to find it missing, and the ornaments in a bowl…the ones that made it). It was time to do something else.

My plan is to spray paint the tan tree green and put some nice lights on it, then put it up on a table in the family room, so I can put good ornaments on it. I may paint the nonfunctional lights red, to look like berries or something. I hope I am able to do that, anyway. Maybe then I can take down my weird decorated branch that lives in the family room. But, I love that thing, even if people keep turning the lights off.

It becomes clear that I am more of a fan of trees than of Christmas, since these things stay up all year around and have a distinct lack of specifically Christian elements. I respect that religion, but my fondness for Jesus and his acts doesn’t make me what counts as a Christian to most people in the US.

Where was I. Yes, I spent a long time taking down ornaments and dusting them off, then I put the tree outside. I put up the few decorations I can find around the house, so it looks like wintry cheer around here. I’ll spare you photos.

Then I decided that, since I’d made space in the entry, I could put a tree in the entryway, where people could see it driving by and we’d look at least a little American. I went to the dollar store and got an inexpensive white tree and a bunch of lights. First, I could not put the tree on the table I intended to put it on, (which got damaged on the trip between the church and the ranch anyway, sigh) because it would hit the chandelier. Okay, so I can only put unbreakable ornaments on it.

Mandi came over and we were chatting as I put the tree together. It doesn’t look bad, I thought. Then I went to put lights on. Oh, poop. Green light cords do NOT look good on a white tree. So, I just put up all my nature and dog-related unbreakable ornaments. It looks, well, okay.

It will look better with a tree skirt, anyway.

I’m going to order some lights with white cords from Target or somewhere, and they will get here soon. I need a 2021 ornament and my annual Target Christmas globe, too. There, I am decorating for the season of light this year, and doing a much better job than last year, when I simply failed.

I dusted off this little tree I used to use in my office, and I swear it’s the best looking decoration in the house.

I also unpacked two, count them, two boxes from the move. One contained some nice things from my old living room. The other was a mystery! Lee had brought it in when he dragged some things in the last day of the move. I do not recognize the contents. It’s dishes from some grandmother.

Some ironstone and decorated plates. Huh.

The dishes were wrapped in Chicago Tribune issues from 1988, then later wrapped more in Austin American-Statesman paper from 2003. Whose could it be? None of my relatives ever lived in Austin. Nor did anyone else who ever lived in my house, unless maybe Declan’s girlfriend from high school. Well, everyone loves a good mystery.

I now have some plants in the house. I will attempt to keep them alive.

My next unpleasant adult task is to repot the plants that got messed up in the move. I also hate repotting plants. But, these are good ones, so I will do it. And Lee is helping me unpack at least a couple of boxes per week. And some furniture will show up here soon as we have some help and they have time. When does deer season end, anyway?

Memory Lane Is Very Dusty

I thought my son who’s still speaking to me was coming over this evening, but when we realized he wasn’t coming, Anita and I had only one thought: let’s unpack more boxes! Sure, it was over 100 degrees again, but we hydrated and got to unpacking.

Anita is very proud of her hard work. Now we can park n the garage and be able to open doors on both sides!

Unfortunately, the first box we went after contained a faux flower arrangement that had been sitting in the “art niche” at our Braesgate house for close to 20 years. I’m thinking it hadn’t been dusted ~~very often~~ ever. I think we lost a couple of years of lung health as we picked up fake flower after fake flower, trying to find what was at the bottom of the box.

I’m certainly glad what was at the bottom was my Charlie Brown pottery vase. (He was a relative on my mother’s side who used clay from near the St. John’s River to make raku ware, which it turns out was a little brittle, so the top of my vase broke.) By the way, somewhere around the house is a Christmas ornament he made – the article I linked to above said Vice President Mondale had one in his house, too.

I Unpack and Find I Store Things Oddly

Back in Austin, I knew doing some more sweaty unpacking would help me deal with the ridiculous amount of poorly handled work stress I dealt with today. So, I came home and immediately dragged out some really heavy boxes, so that I could create some empty shelf space to store tools and holiday decor.

Those empty shelves and that concrete were covered in boxes until today!

Most of the boxes had the knitting and craft magazines I swore I’d get rid of when I got to them, so I did. That’s painful. But I’m keeping my knitting books, so there! Sewing books will get donated. I really don’t think I’ll be getting a lot of sewing done in the future, since I keep having to work on new startups and nonprofits. And yes, I’m the one who volunteered to do this stuff.

My friend Gail wants me to re-enact this pitiful fundraising attempt from 1997 or so.

I’m really glad I looked in all the stuff before throwing it out, because I found numerous academic degrees, awards, and important documents. I even found the hospital bracelet my mom wore when I was born, in among the magazines. Whew. I’d hate to lose those diplomas and the all-important Phi Beta Kappa membership. I really should have put this stuff somewhere more secure.

Confessions of a Reluctant Unpacker

I’ve shared some of my “issues” before, but here’s the one I feel worst about. I truly hate unpacking. From trips to big moves, I hate it all. The reasons are not clear to me. But I have only a certain amount of unpacking energy that has to be used quickly before it goes away for months or years.

Yay! More Mom embroidery! We know where it will go.

I got a good burst shortly after we moved into the Bobcat Lair, and it was really draining. I had to give myself rewards to keep going. Having to fold every single box into a flat shape and smooth out all the paper so it could be recycled was the worst. We made so many trips to Goodwill and recycling, ugh.