Archives for category: over thinking

Well, I guess you picked a fine time to move.

I’m just doing my part to make sure gas prices inflate.

No, you’re stimulating the economy.

Sage wisdom, cloaked in sarcasm from my older brother. The irony is evident, this being the fifth or sixth unplanned trip south since the new year. But it’s also true, we chose an excellent time to relocate. Our former neighborhood had flooding issues this month. Our old place didn’t flood, but two others in the neighborhood did. I’ll take happenstance when it works in my favor.

My brother-in-law came through surgery fine. Three bypasses. He has a strong heart, liver and lungs. The calcium build-up in his arteries was probably a product of heredity rather than a side effect of massive meat consumption and an aversion to vegetables. Estimated recovery is three to four weeks.

My sister handled the stress like a champion. There were only a few weepy moments. She had a respectable posse waiting with her while he was in surgery, but nothing like the family reunions that take place when something happens in my husband. It’s a difference in the way families operate, not a harsh passing of judgement on my heart. Beneath all the familial traditions, we are all pretty fucked up on one level or another.

I saw my BIL after surgery. His coloring was good. His sense of humor was in tact, though groggy. The day after surgery, he continued to improve and they moved him out of ICU, so we returned home. Our cats think I suck, but my sister thinks she refrain from sawing my branch off the family tree.

It was a little selfish, my being there. I wanted to protect her (from one of her SILs of all things), as if I could. She needed me too, so maybe it isn’t important for her to know I needed to be there for me as well.

working in the yard in broad daylight on an ordinary Monday. Our attempts to invest sweat equity into our home do not go unnoticed by contractors patrolling residential neighborhoods for economic opportunity. The state of the economy is reflected by the number of cold calls beckoning at our doorstep. Tis a terrible time to have a house on the market, but a good time to contract for home repairs, at least here, and especially for cash.

Lured by three untouched pallets pavers littering the front door, a pair guys in a beat-up taurus wagon, attempted to negotiate installation. We were not swayed as most of the prep work has been completed. Had they shown up prior to the excavation of dirt, and sandstone, the temptation to negotiate, might have been stronger. Yet, the kicker, was the discover these two yahoos were responsible for installing the shitty path, I spent weeks removing because it was an unstable lawsuit waiting to happen. We were polite, a thanks but no thanks, gentle dismissal.

I admire their tenacity, going door to door, trying to put food on the table, but there are some services you can’t afford no matter what a bargain they are. The willingness to work isn’t enough to cancel out the know-how which brings a project to fruition. If they had installed the path, any less than perfect, I would have never been unable to live with my spouse, as he would speak of little else than a job not perfectly executed. You have to be careful, frequently you get what you pay for.

And so the paver path continues, well not the path, so much as the preparation, and it progresses in the tradition of DIY. Slowly, painfully, with much sighing and sweat. My husband has done this before. Each time the pattern is different and the complexity varies. He installed a straight path, at the shared home with his former wife, in his former life, thus making him the master paver layer. We worked to together laying a path and patio at our former home. No easy task with a curving herringbone pattern that required numerous cuts and the sacrifice of a circular saw.

It would natural to assume the process has become easier, but it would be an incorrect assumption. This path is simpler, no cutting required, yet he still struggles with the foundation, the dimensions, and his controlling effort to perfect that, which still has a plus and minus margin of error. When he becomes overwhelmed by the inconsistencies that require him to punt, he returns to the digging, sometimes massive amounts of earth moving, and other times packing the moved earth back into place. This is part of his struggle, something he needs do to complete the task.

He would like nothing better than for me to stand around and listen to him think. That is the most painful part of the process. He doesn’t really want input, but validation. I need to move, even if it is small increments, hauling mulch or weeding flower beds. As for validation, it’s not as though I don’t appreciate his efforts. If wants to be the master paver project foreman, he needs to lead the project, and assign me tasks. I don’t need to watch him find his way, I know he will, it just takes time.

The problem with taking the high road, is the path is narrow, and dangerously impassable in some sections. The view is shielded by scrub brush and fallen trees. Passage takes longer, and the only validation is of a self-congratulatory nature. It’s no wonder the high road is less traveled.

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Last night, I had a difficult conversation. It was somewhere between the territories of Honey, I’ve met someone else… and Honey, I have a big gash on the door of the car because I cut my wheels too sharply exiting the garage. Not the end of the world, yet not something that allows sleep to come easily.

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If you take the high road in hopes of having your effort validated, maybe you aren’t taking the high road for the right reasons. Maybe you aren’t really taking the high road at all.

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I feel like I’m walking a tightrope (not because of who my spouse is, but because of who I am). I don’t want to draw him into petty disputes and force the taking of sides. It’s true we are partners, but I don’t recall anything in our vows that requires him to take my side in disagreements regarding mutual associations.

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If you attempt the high road, and are consequently treated like a doormat, are you justified in standing up for yourself? Does it detour the high road, or do you transform into a villain because of a single transgression?

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It felt like having to chose between him and me. It wasn’t a choice I was asked to make, strictly self directed, driven by my own desire to stand up for myself. I didn’t take the road less traveled, and I regret my choice will change things for both of us. If I could have achieved closure and allowed him to remain in the dark, I would have done so. In the face of premeditated destructive behavior, it’s better to hear it from the source rather than a third party, know? Own it, and know thyself.

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