It's been eight days of pure Hell since my last post. But, being the mean, determined, resourceful people we are, we're still standing.
I won't drag out every detail of the past week. Suffice to say, if it could happen, it seemed to.
A few highlights:
The township supervisor emailed and said he'd "look into" the blight problem. He said he'd call or stop by and talk to us. He did the former but not the latter. The neighbor who doesn't occupy his ramshackle house (I've posted pictures of it before) is installing a fence as we speak. Hurray! He has six sections of fence sitting on his land, doing nothing constructive, so this is a good thing.
Meanwhile, the neighbor who's knocked the fence line down and who's outbuilding is half on our land has spread his junk further. We received a copy of our survey and it notes the building's "encroachment." We talked to an attorney and got what we felt was mixed messages.
Sweetie got disgusted with the whole situation and said after the guy returns to Texas we'll install the fence - leaving 10 feet open on either end of his building so he can remove his junk next spring. I'm a bit disgusted with his decision but he's adamant.
Then the round of illness, injuries and broken relationships began.
Sweetie was at the hospital for a CT scan of his abdomen. Not good news. He has not yet consented to surgery.
Two days later I woke up unable to walk. I have some movement now but not without a walker.
The next day my oldest son and his girlfriend split up. He holed up in his house for three days and wouldn't answer the door or his phone. Thanksgiving dinner was moved to our house but my Dad was the only guest.
When he returned home my Dad slipped and fell on his steps. He's getting weaker by the day and refusing to move out of his home. He has to negotiate nine steps to his front door. My ass of a brother is in Jordan playing commando and said he hopes Dad "waits to die" when he has leave in March!
And then the bombshell.
Sweetie was sitting in his recliner as usual, looking deep in thought. I should have never asked what he was thinking.
He'd like to move back to Florida.
Today he put his Case tractor up for sale. Says we'll sell everything we can and get a cheap little house in Citrus County. He then got on the phone to track down old friends and discovered most had died. He's been bummed ever since.
Every time I mention something like, "That wood heat sure feels good," he responds with something like, "We won't have all the work of wood heat in Florida."
Sometimes life just seems to suck all over. All we can do is carry on and hope it gets better.