The months have gotten away from me as they usually do.
I wish I could say it was all good and peaceful, but no.
That is not how the bipolar rollercoaster rolls, or how it derails.
Sparing the horrific and painful details, it's become apparent that Youngest is determined to do things his own way, disregarding the effects on others, or potential consequences. He's looking for a place to stay, as he knows his time here is limited. He will always have a bed here, but it's time he learns that the toilet doesn't magically clean itself, nor does food just appear in the fridge.
The irony of calling him out on everything, with nothing left to hide, has left him pleasant actually. It's an odd kind of calm. He's connected with someone in the area who has several Air bnb's that need occupancy for the winter. While most of his stuff will stay here, the chaos will go with him, along with his never-ending laundry. While he's not ready, it's a necessary step if we are to salvage any of our relationship.
I don't agree with much of what he's doing, as I would stay on the safer, more steadfast path, but I know if anyone would be successful in such endeavors, it would be him. Perhaps he actually is that one in a million who can see the path long before a clearing. Time will tell.
The weather has started to turn here, the leaves are slowly changing, rain has finally moved in. The mornings are crisp, humidity is gone, fall bulbs have been planted and flower remnants are all being cut back. We're taking full advantage of being outside while we can, finishing up the endless outdoor projects that until about 3 weeks ago it was far too hot to complete.
The shed is nearly done.
The garage is meticulously organized.
The last of the hazmat chemicals, left here by the previous owner 17 years ago, are on their way to disposal next week.
We reworked a long-neglected back section of the yard. We replanted some bushes, set in some neglected cobblestone edgers, and planted shade plants for the spring. I reused a whole bunch of rocks to create levels in the shrub and flower area, because they were really GOOD rocks, and needed to be used. Hubs, of course, overdid it and has been laid out on the couch for the last two days. At some point he will need to have surgery for his lower back, but today is not that day.
Oldest is busily working at his new co-op. He loves the company and hopes to have the opportunity to stay on. If he does, they will pay for his masters degree. He comes home every so often to pick up his packages, get his hair cut, and run errands with me. It's hard to believe that he'll be graduated in August. I miss him, but it's nice being mostly just the Hubs and I now a days. No need to cook big dinners, no need to juggle cars in the driveway.
Four years ago, I had a longing, out of nowhere, for a dog. After exhaustive searching, and painful heartbreaks, we found Alaska, who completed our family and added a depth of comfort we had no idea we needed. Alaska is our rule follower, easy, aims to please, just wants to be loved. She's a calming force for us now, much like when Oldest lived here.
Three months ago, I had the same longing, this time for a cat. And, for the first two months, after nothing working out, I had all but given up. Over Labor Day we were in our local Petsmart where we saw a small cat melting into the plexiglass to get our attention. When we got home, the Hubs pestered me into filling out an application online. Thinking it would go nowhere, I reluctantly did. Less than 24 hours later, we brought Kiki home.
Straight from Puerto Rico, she has flipped our world. She melted into Youngest, our resident cat whisperer, who clearly needs her most. She's wild, energetic, snuggly, and fresh. While she can see fine, her eye was damaged when she was wild, so her left gaze is black, and her right gaze is bright green. A turn off for some I'm sure, she fits right in, as we are all a little broken in this house.
She's found every cobweb in the house. Forced me to give away half my plants. She tosses everything off the edge, ensuring that everything gets put away. She topples the Hub's meticulously piled sports cards and hides in the sleeper recliner. Her complete absence of color makes her the queen of hide and seek. We finally had to GPS her collar to ensure she doesn't accidently get out. She squeaks when she snuggles, whistles when she breathes, and purrs louder than I've ever heard. She demands attention, on her own terms. She'll let me clip her nails, while she's half asleep, and only growl a tiny bit to show her detest.
She makes me question my sanity every minute.
I love her fiercely, but she makes me crazy.
And she's cute as heck.
Remind you of anyone?