Drafty

3.9.26

I had four posts in draft form, all different. Deleted them all. They were nonsense. I read back over the last few attempts and let them go. The stories of my life are no longer synching up. My beloved has a serious health problem that in the few weeks since it was discovered has changed everything.

Here I am in the roofing house again, much as I left it over three years ago . . . I did come back a few times in the intervening and poke around a bit. Yes, Petaluma Parade weekend, ouch. Last year when I came to load out the sound equipment for the Saw Festival I camped here two nights, swept up and pulled some things out. It’s not in bad shape, all I need is some acrylics and brushes. I am somewhat surprised at what I left rat-safe in the filing cabinet: books, magazines, canvas panels, frames and glass. Many things I have no room, or need for, artograph, light box, four bags of LP’s. I did NOT find the big sketchbook with handles that I so want to see.

Woodrat built a tinker-toy nest of bamboo skewers and forks, and some scraps of paper, in a crate, a foundation of plastic bags at the bottom. I pulled it all apart and tucked it into a grocery bag, might write “free rat’s nest” on it.. I swept, used the leaf blower, wiped glass, rehung prayer flags. It’s a delightful little space. I think I’ll be here again.

There were a lot of things Art needed help with. He’s so skinny. I brought beef stew for the weekend, raw butter and grass fed ground beef for the freezer. He gets food delivered from the school Monday thru Friday. I made cauliflower soup and veggie juice in the Ninja he had in storage, never used. Built fires in the wood stove in the cold mornings.

We had a few deep talks at the table, eating stew, him taking his remedies, sorting unopened packages and mail. A circuit breaker had failed and broke, he can’t get it to come out. He has someone who can fix it, so I rerouted cords and plugs and got the porch light working, installed a power strip in the kitchen, got the ceiling light and light over the sink working, and plugged in appliances. Wedged two metal plates under the kitchen sink outflow pipe under the house to stop the drain from leaking all over, ew.

48 hours, Saturday to Monday, I’ll leave sometime after noon. He called me an angel. How much do I owe you? No, dude, you fed me and emptied my bucket for three months after I broke my ankle. You don’t owe me.

He slept and napped, I puttered in the RH and did his laundry and camped in my van, OMG I could hardly get the pop-top up, it has been so long. I am so at home here, the things I thought I had lost forever, my parking space, my studio, all is as it was when I left in abject misery. Who else knows his habits, his quirky home and proclivities? Only I. On the way here I saw a free box and picked out a pillow for Westy, immaculate white, with a bird embroidered in navy, burnt orange, teal, ochre, a Bird of Paradise, a Phoenix, a rebirth. If only for now. Yes, so mote it be.