Hold on to what is good even if it is a handful of earth.
Hold on to what you believe even if it is a tree which stands by itself.
Hold on to what you must do even if it is a long way from here.
Hold on to life even when it is easier letting go.
Hold on to my hand even when I have gone away from you.
- Pueblo Blessing
�
Sunday, Aug. 20, 2006 - 8:44 p.m.
WARNING!!!! if you know me personally, you may read my diary, but if you do, you take the chance of hearing things you don't want to know, misunderstanding what I've written and being hurt by it. If you are unsure if it is ok to read, save yourself and me the grief and heartache, and ask first!!! Please note that this is a DIARY, ie my subjective feelings, hearsay, suppositions, and outpourings of ranting of the moment. It does not represent objective news, the whole of what I think of a topic or someone, or even a thought-out representation of any of the above. Keep that in mind. Thanks. * Here is a Diary Etiquette Read Me.
What a week, subtitled my boyfriend is cheap
Well, what a great week.
My garden killed by the city.
Worked hard to scrape the paint off the wooden steps to the second floor, the secondfloor balcony, and the third floor balcony, and repaint it all. It looks great. Let's say that went well. But it was tiring... most days I was painting at 8am, so the tenants could walk on it when they got home and therefore I could do the other side of the balcony or stairs in the evening... and have it dry for them to walk on while I painted the other side in the morning. It is a real pain painting surfaces that need to be passable all the time.
And then I was doing business during the day... sketches, changes to drawings, negotiating and writing up contracts, and doing actual paying painting work at night to send to clients. Exhausting.
And besides that, putting the house in order and taking care of everything for camping since the boyfriend (yes, artsyguy, remember? Like dating my father?) said that camping is too much trouble, and expensive. The same guy who told me before we started dating how getting out of the city was so important to him, that he thought it was so important for his kids to get out of the city, to experience nature and camping. Blahblahblah. He says that was the nondead artsyguy. Anyways, I sort of promised to do everything myself.
Why do I do these things? Running around paying out of pocket batteries for four people, a second airmattress for his two kids to sleep on, swimshoes for his kids to walk up the river on rocks, the reservation for the camping, the firewood, the goodies (coke, stuff for s'mores...) and all the food. Seamsealing the tent, checking all the gear, packing the cooler... all so he doesn't say "it is too much hassle".
And then not feel appreciated. When I ask him for $40 for their share (3 people of four) for the food, he shoots back at me "so are you paying half the gas?" Half the gas? When we had to drive twice as far to pick up and drop off his daughter, his bi-weekly drive, as we did to go camping? When again, he has three people vs my one? When I supplied the tent, the cooler, the airmattresses, the flashlights, toys for the kids, blahblahblah. I mean hell, the firewood cost almost as much as the gas. Egads he is cheap. There I said it. Cheap. Cannot just pay $40 for him and two kids to eat for a weekend? When I fed him three times last week (hahah, from my condemned garden). How about "oh, I'd LOVE to wenchie, maybe I should pay more even since you did all the work getting ready" I mean hey, it was so much food I had to go to the store twice cuz it was too much to carry home myself. Heck... you try to carry two liters of milk, two of juice, a dozen eggs, yogurt, chicken, 6 corn on the cob, cereal, weiners, a loaf of bread, two packages pitabread, hotdogbuns, hot chocolate mix, a half dozen bottles of coke, marshmallows, graham wafers, bacon, ziploc bags, a pound butter, a pound cheese, alfalfa sprouts, four peaches, eight plums, an avocado, a pound mushrooms, vegepate, green onions, lettuce... all in one go with two arms and a small backpack. sheesh.
Why didn't he go with me? Oh, he wanted to clean his kitchen. Could I please go shopping without him?
(I had to clean my kitchen two days previous cuz I needed to cover the whole floor with the tent to seamseal it. A sixman tent floor is the size of my kitchen. Such a thing entails taking out all the chairs, and manhandling the kitchen table out the door myself...)
Agh. Cheap. Lazy. Inefficient.
I dunno. I am ranting yes I am.
Well it was pouring today so we came back from camping early after breakfast (all the campgear.... my tent, my tarps etc are all soaking... guess who will clean THAT up when it suns again ... yes that is a verb. Suns)
And the cats had puked all over the floor. It's ok, I think they mostly went to the bathroom in the cat litter which is a good thing.
And now that I have cleaned up the cooler, sorted the dirty laundry, the cooking gear, I took it down to the basement.... and discovered it has flooded.
That is just the best. ack.
Now it is ten pm and I have to go down there and move things out of the water... throw out a bunch of stuff, wipe down the rest. And figure out where the hell water is coming from in a basement that I paid about $7000 five years ago to have french drains and a sump pump put in. No idea. The pump is not going. The whole floor just looks like it has been drizzling all afternoon and it is the sidewalk. I hate to think what the problem might be. I haven't finished my bathroom renovations from my March plumbing disaster. ack.
Another episode.... just how bad at preparing through the woods and rivers can a 41 yr old father of two, self-professed nature lover, actually be?
Thank god this week is over.
see ya later.
me
wenchie
2 People have left cute, callous or caring comments on the wench's wordiness!!
Leave yours too!!
Go to "notes" instead of comments
ps, you'll need to email me for a username and password
�
previous meanderings - future past
Goodbye Michael. May your next life be kinder to you. - Thursday, Jun. 25, 2009
Taking Care of Your Cows - Thursday, Jun. 25, 2009
Saint Joseph robs the cradle and eats spaghetti - Sunday, Jun. 14, 2009
sticky notes and broken irises - Friday, Jun. 12, 2009
The FOODCOMMANDER - Monday, Jun. 08, 2009
�
