For Readers

My Better Half’s job allows significant down time in between tasks, and hours away from home so he reads as many as fifty books a year. I’m too involved in other meaningless task to devote that much time to reading, but this year my appetite for the written word has been insatiable… relatively speaking.

When I pick up a book, I feel obligated to finish it even if it takes months. While life is too short to read uninteresting titles, I am compelled to complete novels so that I don’t feel guilty about being critical. I question the fairness in critiquing that which is unexplored within its complete context. Guilt may not manipulate me in many circumstances, but it does compel me to complete a book.

I found some interesting links this week:

If you are curious about reading preferences based on geography, check out this link which lists 2011 book rankings based on city.

If you have ever been mesmerized by To Kill a Mockingbird or the enigmatic Harper Lee, this link might be interesting.

I was surprised to learn from the energy auditor that the fancy ventilation fan located in the bathroom, isn’t really a courtesy fan for sucking noxious odors from the loo. For over thirty years, I assumed the fart fan allowed large families to live in relative peace devoid of gagging while sharing a residence with single bathroom. There always been one of those unspoken rules. If you must, and sooner or later one must, for the consideration of others, please turn on the damn fart fan. In retrospect, it’s effectiveness at creating breathing environment is questionable at best, but at least that announcing hum detected in the hallway is a coded announcement to others, you might want to consider waiting a few moments before entering to check for spinach on your teeth.

The auditor casually mentioned the ventilation fan, for excessive bathroom moisture vented directly into the attic rather than through the roof, potentially a hazard for mold growth in the attic. Technically the unvented fan is a problem, but it won’t be addressed immediately given the fan isn’t actually utilized for its intended purpose. However the dryer venting into the attic was another story…

A no-no due both to humidity and potential mold issues, but the potential fire hazard was a deal breaker. On the bright side the lint provided an alternative insulation until the contractors arrived and blew the attic with materials officially sanctioned for such purposes.

On the recommendation of the insulation contractor, we hired a handyman to reroute the dryer vent through the basement to the outside of the house. On the last day, the hangman was running late because he had to pick up his kid, which wasn’t a problem until he brought his kid along when he finished the job.

He was a typical six-year old boy: energetic, full of questions, and utterly unable to sit quietly and entertain himself. I listened to the Better Half play three minutes of the question game, and defend the cat’s honor, as I stared at the lasagna box on the kitchen counter. For Better or worse, for thicker or thiner, but where children are concerned, it’s every woman for herself.

Since we spent the afternoon waiting for the handyman, we weren’t able get all the ingredients for dinner, which the Better Half was cooking. Without a second thought, I found my car keys and fled the scene. The Better Half was on his own, and far more experienced at dealing with kids, I might add. If the handyman wasn’t going to supervise his own child, I wasn’t about to do it for him.

When I returned with the groceries, I took over dinner, my strategy being to stick with the devil you know. The Better Half found himself making paper airplanes and listening to Shel Silverstein books, while I slaved over followed the directions on the lasagna box with the liquor cabinet keeping me company, and the cat was safely sequestered under the sofa. Later, the BH thanked me for dinner and apologized for the way the afternoon went. The irony was both of us thought we had the easier job.

Our power company offers a free energy audit and a rebate of fifty percent on recommended improvements completed up a thousand dollars expended (maximum rebate $500). This is a higher return consumer dollars than the income than the energy efficiency tax deductions currently offered by the federal government, which is a 30% for things like windows and insulation.

For the last 2 months we have been working through the recommendations and already see some results from the effort. The last items is upgrading insulation in problem areas like attics, and floor/ceiling of the basement. As an aside, I know why people don’t bother with sealing cracks in windows and band joists, as it is a righteous pain in the ass.

There is a sitting room connected to the master bedroom that cantilevers from the main floor with unenclosed storage underneath for things like lawnmowers and garden implements. This room is a problem area. With cathedral ceilings, a skylight and no direct ventilation from the ac unit, it remains 5-10 degrees out of synch with the rest of the house depending upon season.

The insulation guy suggested we remove the plywood that protects the flooring insulation from the outside elements and add furring strips to the joist so the floor could accommodate thicker insulation, then resealing the area with house wrap before re-installing the plywood and sealing cracks with expanding foam or caulk. This plywood removed, didn’t fit tightly so there were small cracks and in one instance a 8 x 8 inch access hole. The decaying insulation in some locations was not surprising but the body count was:

3 dead squirrels (natural causes. By natural, I mean not at the mercy of spouse’s pellet gun)
5 hornet nests(thankfully abandoned)
2 bird nest (probably wrens)
2 critter nest of mysterious occupancy (conveniently made out of existing insulation)

This is the largest of the hornet nests. It is about the size of a saucer. The paper walls don’t wrap around the bottom, like open nests. I’m guessing these has to do with the confined space. The form reminds me of a sunflower.

There are trials which require mental preparation to both excel and survive. Preparations which under the cloak of ordinary would simply come across as overbearing or annoying, but in specific situations make us stronger and more effective.

Hopefully my partner’s mental preparations will dissipate soon, so I don’t continue to feel like I’m trapped in a junior high classroom replete with hormones, social anxiety sitting beside the ‘know it all” kid trying not to get caught rolling my eyes.

The Better Half has spent all of April and part of May training. In the long run, this will be beneficial for his career, and by default us. As for the short run, there was an enormous amount of pressure. Long hours, mostly away from home, and much studying when he was here.

I feel out of line, asking him to clean out the gutters when he’s blowing off steam for an hour playing computer games. But, there is the unfortunate truth that even if he weren’t under job stress, he would still be playing computer games, neglecting household tasks. Some things don’t change, only the excuses we provide for them.

One of the side effects of his training is the constant sharing of the information he is required to memorize in painstaking detail. His job is interesting to me, the complex machinery is fascinating, and I’m just dull enough as human being that I am intrigued by how things work. However, there is a limit to the amount of detail I care to listen to. I retain information in the abstract sense, studying the concept to see if I can apply it to another situation, the vocabulary, and etymological history is completely unnecessary provided I’m not forced to submit to a quiz.

He recalls the systems in painstaking detail because that is what is required of him, and because repeating it verbatim helps to reinforce it in his mind. I’m uncertain if he is relaying it to me to improve his retention, or if he is pounding his fists to his chest to establish his intellectual superiority. I’ll concede to the former, but only by also noting if the roles were reversed I seriously doubt he would listen to what I am saying, much feign interest.

Rather than subvert the educational process, I’ve elected to be as complicit as possible and censor myself rather than contribute additional stress to the process. As a result, I’ve feeling as if actual communication is too much of a chore, and not just with him, but most of the people in my daily life.

I’m not sure if that says more about me, him, them, or the desire to become invisible.

I’m not one for making New Year’s resolutions. If changes are necessary to be more fulfilled, I shouldn’t be so blasé as to submit to ritualistic peer pressure and publicly vow to improve life once a year. What good is existing, if I restrict myself from adapting as necessary, except for one day a year when I stay up past my bed time under the guise of celebrating the advent of a new scientific billing cycle which professes with the aid of rose colored glasses to be nothing like the previous 365 day billing cycle?

The reality is I should make the effort to change slightly every day rather than save it all up for the abysmal failure that is public proclamation after consuming one too many Patr*n cosmos. As for anyone who wishes to challenge themselves to change from January 1, I am there for you. Seriously. I’ll buy a cocktail and encourage you through the rough times, or bring you cookies, if your trying one of those radical twelve step thingies. If you’re committed to going back to school, I will cheer you through finals. If your searching for your long lost birth parents, I will exhaust all possibilities combing through public records and googling. My support knows few boundaries. Except maybe joining a gym. I prefer not to think of it as a boundary and more of a pothole. A pothole I’d rather avoid than drive through.

I’ll be more than happy to stand next to the treadmill and cheer you on as you reach your target heart rate. I’ll even tell you how puffy your arms are after you lift weights, but the problem is it tends to appear creepy fellow patrons the staff out when people like me are standing around with a megaphone and not actually sweating, since drinking coffee doesn’t usually elevate your heart rate.

I think gyms are great….just not for me. All that shiny equipment you can borrow, that sense of commitment carefully enveloped in purpose, and eventually sprinkled with healthier eating, more energy, and some really hideous exercise attire. It’s the perfect ensemble, like a marriage with motivation, desire, and endorphins. The problem…I’m just not that into it.