Where are two shoes to click to my clack
Where is a voice to answer mine back?
(Mr. Magoo's Christmas Carol)
An odd phenomena that I notice from time to time is that I'm often aware of the sounds of my own footsteps. Like when I'm walking into a store, or a restaurant, or even down a sidewalk.
That's just a random observation.
I've spend a few days out in the cottage, aka The Wicca House, the workroom, my maker space, or (ever since a friend made the pun) the Sidhe shed. I have always had a tendency to work on a project, finish said project . . . and walk away. So it needed some attention - the dye materials for the Forest Walk shawl were still out on the counter in one room, the sewing scraps from my Ren Faire outfit in another, the lost-the-momentum possible Wendigo skull on a work table, all that alpaca fleece in pillowcases on the floor . . . It's all been sorted, some tossed, things put away, surfaces wiped down, even vacuumed. Ready for the next project when inspiration strikes. I even did an upgrade.
From time to time when I'm working on a project, I find that I want to review a technique or instruction. Or even follow a step-by-step video. Squinting at my phone screen just doesn't work for me. If I knew up front I'd want to watch something, I could take my laptop with me (no WiFi in the cottage but I can make a hotspot off my phone). But mid-project, it was either squint or make a run back to the house.
Sometime in the last year or two I got the idea of taking my old desktop computer down there (because,of course, I had never gotten rid of it, just stored it). I can't remember how old it is, but it's very proud of itself for being a two-in-one instead of having a separate tower, and I believe it was running on Windows 8. So, old.
When I turned it on, it would take about 10 minutes to lumber into life. Then another 10 minutes to actually open a web browser. A few minutes to tell it to connect to my phone. A few more to find YouTube. Basically - about 30+ minutes. Definitely frustrating if I just wanted to check a technique mid project. I started thinking about getting a laptop to keep out there. But I really didn't need or want a full computer, with keyboard and mouse. All I really needed was . . .
Well, duh. A television. These days, for $80, you can get a 24" smart television. No fire stick or Chromecast stick needed. Just plug in and go, and I have YouTube and web access and everything I need.
So the cottage is cleaned up (well, at least by my standards) and waiting for inspiration. But my brain is foggy. I don't know the right word - not exactly depressed, or morose, or sad - but something.
I've realized that it's just because there have been a lot of things this month that underscores that I am now just Ann, not Ann-and-Bob. I now wear his ring, which isn't exactly his ring anymore because it would now barely fit on the top of his pinky finger. I went to a movie, and to two plays (by myself, of course). When I had my mammogram done, I went to go check out Michael's and World Bizarre which are both nearby (I'm better now than I once was - the first time I went to Michael's, around 2021, I lasted less than 10 minutes before I had to escape to the car to cry). He enjoyed exploring both of those.
Giving up the jeep was huge. I still get twisted up inside when I go to the barn (which is daily, because the chicken feed is in there). As I said in an earlier post, it's a similar feeling to that I get when RedBug goes hopping by, with the emptiness where his leg used to be. But Russell is going to rebuild all the damage from sitting there for so long (from needing new tires to rewiring where mice have chewed), and someday, fingers crossed, it will go into a museum. Best of all possible outcomes. But I still miss the life that had that jeep in it.
I also finally did the paperwork on the trailer that we used to carry the jeep on. Rik traded it for a sheep for the museum a few years ago, but still hasn't gotten around to dragging it off (life gets in the way sometimes). I couldn't find the title; he said he would do a title search but recently said that it would probably be easier if I did it, because I own it so I could probably get a duplicate title online. I couldn't; apparently that is one one sole thing that was only in his name (even the jeep had both our names on the title). So it wasn't on my account. I couldn't create an online account in his name because his license had expired. So I took a deep breath and gathered up the materials I thought I would need: the license plate, his driver's license . . . and his death certificate. I *hate* seeing or touching that. But it's the official document that lists me as the "surviving spouse" which would give me the ownership.
I hate being reminded that I'm a surviving spouse. But having all that - it only took a few minutes there to get the paperwork done, and handed over to Rik on the way home.
Looking back - that's Bob's ring, four outings, the jeep, and the trailer in not quite a month. I've learned that it's best to just let my feelings happen and acknowledge them, rather than trying to convince myself that they don't matter.
And in the meanwhile, do some cleaning up.
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