Old Auntie What'sHerName

If you happen to be in the mountains or maybe simply living on the west coast with all the rain, -- this week *could* prove to be a real test. You will survive as long as a redwood tree doesn't keel over on your house, an oak branch doesn't crash through your car window while you're on your way to work or you happen to live on an ancient landslide (like the one I live on). This is the kind of weather where we will get one storm blast after another accompanied (or should I say unaccompanied by electricity) by electrical outages. YOU people really take electricity for granted --  being without electricity can be a real bitch especially around the third day when you have not been able to shower (water is pumped to the house from the well), your freezer is dripping and moldy with thawed veggie burgers, pineapple spears, Weight Watchers ice cream, and the cat litter box looks like porcupine meatball stew (after all, why should the cat get any perks in the dark?) Sometimes the storms bring drenching, pouring rain for days on end, and if the roads are open, I'll drive into town for respite where I discover the sun is bright and shining, the ground is bone dry and people are in their bikinis - even the women.

Because we are expecting such a deluge this week, I went to the "Dumpo" and stocked up on some batteries, bought myself another lantern plus a stylish headlamp for when I'm outside at night getting more firewood. After installing the batteries on the headlamp, and immediately checking out the light the lamp gave off, I nearly blinded myself. All I was able to see  for about twenty minutes were spots and dark circles. I sat all alone at the kitchen table wondering if it were time to install that "help I'm fallen and I can't get up" medical alert system?
Not yet - my eyes are back to normal which means I can still see far away with spots and darkened circles.

Today is a regular work day for me. Not that I would be off work commemorating MLK's birthday with a day of service unless that service was to clean my own house. Hannah came over to my house on Saturday afternoon, and informed me that [I] "have a junk house." Which in 4 year old talk means [my] "house is messy," (I stupidly asked for clarification).

Any day of service from now on will include Hannah working, in service for me. Hannah's comment was pretty funny though. As I told a friend years ago when she said something similar about my housekeeping, I have different priorities. My priorities don't include the whirring of a consistent running vacuum (mostly because I burned the end of the vacuum while trying to clean out the chimney on the wood-stove), swinging the broom (at someone's head) or swiping a dust cloth just so the dust that's waiting in the air will have a spot to land or even (GAH-forbid) picking up my own clothes off the floor of the "great" (yeah, right!) room. I'm busy doing other more important things such as keeping up with Hannah when she comes over to visit, or going to the movie earlier that day to see "A Single Man" (because there aren't enough of them) (which btw was a good movie though I'm not sure it would have been my first choice given all the ultra-fascinating options for films out currently.) I was also busy taking photographs and that's super important. Earlier in the day I met my sister for coffee. See? My schedule is majorly swamped.

Listen -- before you say I live in a junk house - try walking a mile in my shoes. I double-dare you to fit in them first of all, let alone walk a full mile in them without getting blisters. At the end of the mile, you will do as I do, and put your feet up on the nearest foot-stool, ottoman, hassock, memory foam cube, urban lounge storage, padded bench, tuffet, pouffe, cushion or cardboard-box whichever item happens to be closest to you, an unencumbered spot to put your feet without having to remove the clothing, assorted used coffee cups, old newspapers and magazines, along with last week's used kleenex.

After the movie, Hannah's visit, and whatever other nonsense excuses valid reasons I have for living in a "junk house," I was exhausted and therefore unable to clean to Hannah's expectations. In between storms on Sunday, I pruned the Santa Rosa plum for the first time in my life. I took the pole saw, walked up the driveway and started lopping off branches. I had always relied on someone else to do this in the past. For several years it was my former boyfriend who was helpful with those kinds of chores. Before him, Greg would prune though he didn't show much interest once he went into hospice. LAZY! I had listed this particular chore on a "to do" for my son if he ever comes over again.

After pruning, I chopped the branches, putting them in the green-cycle container. I suppose instead of pruning the tree, and cleaning up my outside mess, along with clearing the gutters, I could have been dusting windowsills for Little Miss Perfect's white-glove inspection. Pruning that tree gave me a huge sense of accomplishment - something about a first time, doing the chore in the rain, mud on a hillside. At my age I should be in a home! A clean home!

Spending time with Hannah gives me a sense of accomplishment too because when my kids were her age, I didn't spend enough time with them. I know that now. And as long as I don't slide down the ancient landslide during this week's storms, I still know I won't be on the planet forever so being remembered as the aunt who lived in the junk house -  well, at least I will be remembered which is more than I can say for a lot of people.