Ceiling, Tree Top, and Wolf Pup

 Wow.  It's been almost two weeks.  I'd better write something so that 2025 self doesn't wonder what happened.

Most of my writing for the last four years has been because there's something I need to get out.  But so far in 2024 I've felt oddly calm.  Yes, I miss Bob desperately.  Yes. it hurts.  Yes, I'm tired of having to take care of everything myself.  Yes, I'm lonely.  But somehow I seem to have internalized it, accepting it instead of fighting it, at least for the last few months.  Somehow laying claim to the barn seems to be involved.  I definitely have been taking care of things since then.  I've reinforced the chicken coop (fingers crossed - the chickens Rock and Djali have been in there for a week now).  I even figured out how to shim up the door jamb so that the door closes all the way.  If all goes well, the new chicks who are on the back deck, and growing fast, will also move out there.

But on the subject of raccoons (because that's what broke into the chicken yard last year) Miss Sassy hasn't made an appearance yet.  I have to admit that I had gotten fond of her.

So - what's happened in two weeks?  I did remember to take at least one evening to head far enough away from the house to not see the security light and just sit with the fireflies for awhile. It's such a magical thing to do, just sit quietly in the night, listening to the spring peepers and the wind in the treetops and watching the dancing twinkling lights.  But I also had to admit to myself that I no longer feel the deep relaxation.  Without Bob there, part of me stays on the alert for any sound that might indicate a bear or coyote (or something really frightening - the footstep of a human being).  But I must have the fireflies.

A week ago Sunday I took time off from The Project (coming in a moment) to go to listen to Broadway songs.   A group of teenagers involved in youth theatre were doing an evening of singing at the community center, only a mile or so from me, as a fundraiser.  It sounded like fun, it was close, and I like to encourage such things. Some of those kids had amazing voices.  I was rather disappointed at the turnout, however; I think I was the only person there who wasn't a friend or family member of one of the singers.  I would have liked to have seen some more community support.

Yesterday I did the Tree to Tree ropes course yet again (that makes 5 times now).  At the volunteer party a couple of weeks ago, one of the women said her birthday was coming up and she wanted to do something different; Tree to Tree was suggested.  Every time I do this course, protective amnesia kicks in, and I forget just how hard it is.  It didn't help that the temperature has recently gone up 10 degrees, so it was a bit sweaty.  But it's still fun.

The Project:  After almost four years, I finally repaired the bedroom ceiling. Rob kept saying that he and Don could come up sometime to help me; Jeff said that on one of his trips he could come help, and somehow time kept going by.  Then I kept waiting for the day that I would wake up and know how to do it.  I would study it from time to time, and no inspiration hit.

The big thing that stopped me was not so much the hole, as the panel next to it.

It's sagging because the drywall underneath it had collapsed and was lying on it.  

I would keep trying to think how to reinforce that panel, or maybe somehow drag the chunks of drywall out, but there was nothing then to re-attach the panel.  I finally did the only thing possible: demolished that one too.

 

Then I cut and screwed in some supporting bars to have something to attach the panels to.  Then came the really fun part - trying to hold a 41 square inch panel over my head while I screwed it into place.  It got ugly.  If swearing threatened to devolve into tears I would take a break.  I was literally using my head to hold them up until I could get a couple of screws in.

It's far from perfect.  I'm disappointed, because I would have liked to be proud of it.  They don't line up just right (because it's hard to see the big picture when you're holding something on your head) and despite the fact that I was replacing two 41 square inch panels with two other 41 square inch panels, one ended up with almost an inch gap on one side.  That pisses me off.  When I'm through being pissed off, which might take another week, I'll cut a narrow strip of wood, cover it with some leftover wallpaper, and fill the gap to be less noticeable. And a bit more painting.  So it's not great, but it's not as bad as that damned hole.  And I don't plan on anyone else being in my bedroom anyway.

The added bonus is that I can sleep in my bedroom on rainy nights.  Because there was only the roof decking overhead, anytime it rained it sounded like it was dripping in the bedroom.  Being as there has been several times that has actually happened, I'd find myself getting up frequently to check it, and finally just sleeping on the couch.  But now that I've added insulation and the panels, it just sounds like rain on the roof instead of in the bedroom.

Of course, it never occurred to me in those intervening years that I could have gone ahead and put up insulation to solve the acoustic problem.  Hindsight is such a lovely thing.

But now I've been having project hangover for a few days.  It's a common thing; there is a burst of energy and I dive in and get something done - and then spend a few days doing basically diddly squat, like I can't get my act together.  The summer heat showing up hasn't helped.  But I have faith that the doldrums will pass.  

Closing with the wonderful news.  We have red wolves at the museum.  They are incredibly endangered - around 250 of them in captivity, and 18 or so in a controlled "wild" environment.  The last time one of the wolves got pregnant, she had heart failure when she went into labor and we lost her and the pups (the same thing happened in another facility the same year - the gene pool is so small that there are problems).  But 10 days ago one of our females had her first litter.  Only two pups - a boy and a girl - but they are fine, fat, healthy little miracles.