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Refreshed, Reset, Ready to Go

I’m feeling good today, is spite of the unexpected expenses.  Life happens and there’s not a lot that can be done about it!  The plumber came a day early & they are bringing a new hot water tank tomorrow morning.  There’s a relief to that, especially since I have a home warranty for the first year.  This little hiccup was expensive, and left me with no flooring in two rooms, but that’s okay.  There are bigger problems in the world.  

My knee continues to hurt a little.  I should be wearing a brace until it feels normal again, but I have no clue where mine is.  I hate to just buy another one, but I think that’s where we are!  

Probably because my knee was hurting, but I found it disappointing that to downtown and back is about a quarter mile short of three miles.  That means I have to add tangents to make up for it, so I probably need to do that going.  After the second mile, all I want to do is get home.  I think when I get to the point where I can do two miles to downtown and then stop for shopping or coffee or whatever before returning, things will feel less daunting on the walk back.  Or maybe when the knee is not hurting.  Otherwise, my breathing is good.  My pace could be better, but I feel good on the walk.  It’s a nicer walk  overall than rural Glencoe was.  I do have things I love about those rural walks, but I think this one is just slightly better.  There’s greater opportunity for variation certainly.  One thing I might try is just going until I reach 1.5 miles and see where that is.  That would at least give me a walk I could do that would guarantee I meet my 3 mile goal.

[Walk #342, 3.13 miles]

  • Location of Walk: home to downtown, Guthrie, OK
  • Magpie: cypress cones

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Moist Hallways

What a stupid day already!

My knee was still hurting a little when I got up, so I thought I should try splitting my walk into 2 shorter walks.  So, I waited a while & just sort of watched TV and dozed off for a bit.  At 9:45, I started to get ready for a 2 mile walk when I noticed an issue with the floor in the hallway.  It sounded like it was coming up, but as I investigated it started to sound like sloshing.  I could see a little moisture on the baseboard on the wall adjacent to the water tank.  I went it an checked there.  The pan is full of water and it is overflowing slowly.  Because I had things stacked down there, I don’t know for how long.  There doesn’t seem to be a ton of water soaked into anything, but it could also be draining more under the house.  Hopefully the plumber can figure out what is going on.  I put a service request in with my insurance, but they cannot come until Thursday, so I called someone else who is on the way right now.  If it is a big issue, I’ll keep it through my home warranty.  I am not happy with the contracted plumber though; they had terrible customer service, so I’m actually hoping this is an issue that isn’t too much different cost-wise.  I’d happily pay a couple hundred this week just to keep from dealing with those people again.  But if the quote is a lot higher, then I’ll have to just wait for them to come out.  This is the third time I’ve had a person out to deal with this water tank.  

I was just about half a mile into my walk when the plumber called to say he was on the way, so I only got in a single mile so far.  It was a nice day for that; the neighborhood was surprisingly busy for a Tuesday morning.  I didn’t even do my usual walk in the park, I meandered through the neighborhood.  My goal was 5th Street, which goes under the highway into downtown, but I’ll get to doing that walk next time maybe.  Now, I get to just wait around and hope there aren’t big things wrong.  And I wish I knew how to shut that water off!  

[Walk #340, 1.19 miles]

    • Location of Walk: neighborhood around my house, Guthrie, OK
    • Magpie: USB cable (broken)

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Waiting

I spent all day waiting for the guy to arrive to fix the dishwasher.  He never showed up, but he did call a little after 6 p.m. to say he was an hour and a half away.  I asked him to reschedule me for tomorrow.  I hadn’t gone for a walk all day because I was expecting him any moment, but I did do some jogging in place cardio at home.  It is just not the same.  I’ve been doing that sort of thing all summer, and I have not seen the results that a daily walk can give.  I think it’s just too easy to be lazy and only do just enough.  With a walk, it is so much more often that you reach the exercise goal, but still need to get back home, so you get the extra in naturally.

At home, the notification goes off and I immediately stop.  I could up my goal, but I’ve struggled to even reach it recently.  Walking is just better.  Joining a gym might work as well.  While it would give me the option of just stopping at my goal, having to drive to the location might give me the motivation to do a higher goal that isn’t specifically in my watch, maybe an hour.  I haven’t decided.  The cheapest gym in town is $40 per month, at least that I have found.  Stillwater had multiple $10-15 options, so it seems like a big ask to spend so much.

I asked for a call tomorrow when they are on the way to my house, so I shouldn’t have the same excuse.  I can go on my walk and just be on notice to return to the house when they are on the way.

[no walk]

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I’ve been thinking about the concept of ‘home’ for a while now.  What is it that give our spaces that feeling that makes us feel good being there.  It isn’t uncommon for an apartment to feel distinctly not homey, particularly ones first apartment after leaving the house where parents and siblings still reside.  It makes tempting the idea that it is the people that make for a feeling of ‘home.’  But it seems equally common for an apartment to feel like the place where that person will spend the rest of their life.  And that happens to folks who live alone.  So, is it the people at all?

I love being with my family.  There was always something about returning for a visit to my childhood home that had a fantastic mix of nostalgia, comfort, and distance.  In 2005, I moved far enough away that visiting required planning and money; my visits to my hometown were reduced to about once every two years.  By my first visit, my parents had sold my childhood home and moved to the country into a brand new manufactured home while they planned out their dream home.  There was no way, I thought, to feel at home in a mobile home sat in the trees just outside of town.

I was wrong.  While it wasn’t the same, the feeling was.  I was in a house that had only even existed for about a year, but it was filled with familiar furniture and my parents.  For me, that ruled out the structure and the location.  What seemed to be at play was the combination of the people, the memories I carried with me, and the stuff in the house.  Had my parents simultaneously discovered their mutual love for Victorian furnishings, throwing out the carefully cultivated collection of things in the house, I think the space would have felt as cold as I expected it to.  These objects brought with them the stories that define us as a family.

“I always want objects in my home that have a connection to me or something I’ve loved.  It’s still stuff, but it’s stuff that has meaning.” Nate Berkus makes a great point, and one I’d like to explore in depth for myself.  When I had one of those cold apartments, just out of high school, it was filled with items I can barely remember, mass produced and cheap things.  The only items I even clearly recall are items that had a story, even if the item wasn’t old.  The dresser my dad painted for me for my new place, the sofa he reupholstered, and that is about it.  It would take me years to collect items of meaning, to be given things once belonging to grandparents and parents, and to have the maturity to honor those things and treat them with the respect they had earned.

Six months ago, I moved into the mobile home where my parents spent years hoping to build their dream home.  They settled into their new house over the summer, leaving vacant a space that had surprised me, on a land that is peaceful and beautiful.  I’m honored to live here in this space that has become a part of the story, where my nephews spent so much of their childhood, where birthdays were celebrated, where holidays with family were enjoyed, and where my parents lived and loved and convalesced.

Many of the stories are lost; it had been incumbent on me to ask the necessary questions and carry on the mythologies and lessons of my family, but I have failed to do so.  But I’d still like to explore what meanings these artifacts have for my life, for the lives of my family members, to recall the world in which they came to us and present them to the world.Continue Reading

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August is more than halfway over. Here in Anchorage summer has already conceded defeat to this in-between drippy season that is a sort of pre-autumn. I love it, as I do most weather. My mom is like that too — perhaps it is from her that I’ve taken this attitude. It doesn’t matter what is going on outside; everything has its own merits and it is all worthy of awe. Mind you, I’m overjoyed that I no longer experience the many many months of humidly hot days that are Oklahoma summers. But even a few days of that should be taken in every once in a while.

My semi-subterranean home has once again become a refugee camp for anything small enough to find a way in and away from the cooling temperatures and the wet. I don’t mind sharing my home with these tiny animals. Mosquitoes are not welcome, and I’m afraid are dealt with harshly. Flies are relentlessly shooed and may also be dealt with if they don’t take my hints that they’ve overstayed their welcome (which is quite short anyway). Beyond that, I don’t give trouble to anything that gives me none.

I was chasing flies around the bathroom, swatting them in the general direction of the open window, hoping they’d move along, when I noticed that this year has not brought a single insect in so much as pairs. It is as if the insect & spider community is sending delegates and are only individually represented. For days there has been a seemingly dumbfounded ant scooting his too big body in and out of the spaces just under the cabinets, always at times that are inconvenient for me to capture and release him outside. As far back as I can remember into my childhood, I’ve wondered about these individuals, about the lives they’ve lead until now. I was initially worried that this was a queen looking for a spot to start a new colony (oh, please! not my little bathroom!), but I think it is just a wayward member of a colony from the flower bed just beyond my porch.

Chances are very great that any ant won’t live long anyway. My house is host to a variety of harvesters and spiders all ready to prey on the other refugees. Spiders are amazing. Even at the times I believe my home is free of all crawly things, I’ll see one appear from nowhere and scuttle off to an again unknown place. This is again one of those instances when the ‘live and let live’ rule applies for me. In my book spiders are good. In a basement environment, the lack of more insects is likely thanks to the arachnid guardians who have set up snares at the entrances. I thank them.

All of this makes it sound as if my home is crawling with critters. Just the thought of that gives me chills. It isn’t like that. Anything that dares leave the sanctuaries of the laundry room or bathroom quickly becomes a brief plaything for the kitties, and then a light snack. Even in those relatively safe places, the insects and spiders have to be fairly clever at hiding. Bothering me definitely includes making yourself too well known. If a garden beetles plops himself in the middle of the bathroom floor, he’ll be excused onto the porch where sadly I’ll leave him to his fate.

But really, I like knowing that the world is alive around me. While it makes me feel increasingly small, it also makes me feel more connected to the world somehow. And allowing benign ecosystems to form in darkest corners of my basement apartment makes me feel a little bit benevolent.

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I am not the person I was when this year began. My life has shifted in different ways, ultimately resulting in this transformed Brian that exists today. I really like being the new Brian, even if the old one is missed from time to time.

{david eugene & the demise of cloves}

I started hanging out with David last December. I had met him when he worked in the cafe at Borders over the summer and was instantly a fan. When he mysteriously left the store, I became obsessed with what turned out to be the memory of someone I didn’t even know well. In an act of silly desperation, I confessed my love for him. My confession was ignored and all future attempts to discuss it have been rejected. That was a great blessing; over the past year I have had one of the best friendships with David. He is often crazy, sometimes reclusive, but always there when I need him. When I was about to find myself homeless in September, it was David who immediately offered a place to stay. When I needed to get a new place of my own, it was David who hooked me up with a great deal on an apartment. When David decided to quit smoking a year ago, I also gave it up in support of his decision. He is still quitting. 2007 is defined mostly as the year of David to me.

{heather, the gay monkey, the rock star, and the world}

Oh, Heather. 2007 has not seemed like her year, but maybe it really has been. Heather’s boyfriend moved back to town halfway through the year. Previously, he had been in town 10 days per month. I think they both felt that they wanted that to happen; however, as their lives had progressed over time, neither knew what to do with one another being around so often. What seemed like a sudden burst of elation quickly fizzled and the two parted. It was a really sad time, as I liked both of them as individuals. But this is not a story with a sad ending. This freed Heather to pursue another option, the greatly more suitable John. Those two make so much more sense than I could have imagined. I miss my Heather, but I’m glad she is happy now. Heather also got a new place to live out of the break-up — well, okay, she was semi-forced to move.

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I live alone again. I’m trying to be okay with that and think I am coming to terms with it. David was right. This is better for both of us, but that isn’t the point. I miss him. I miss Jo-da. I miss the sounds of another person in the house. But everything will be fine.

I moved into David’s old apartment. It is a large space and suits me well. The neighborhood is a bit too quiet, but the neighbors aren’t overly inquisitive, which is nice. I hate feeling watched.

Work has been irritating. It has seemed much busier than it has been and I feel like I am constantly behind. Welcome to the holiday shopping season!

Heather got moved too. I feel bad for abandoning her and finding my own place, but she has been really nice about it. That almost makes me feel worse about it though. She has found a place to stay — with some of my favorite people in Anchorage. Things are going to work out for her.

Life feels right at the moment. I’m really trying to stay in the moment and not focus too much in either direction — past or future. Being as here as I can be is good. Being happy with myself is my only goal and I am getting there… slowly, but surely.

I really miss my family right now. The next few months will be rough without a visit. And I need to call Brandy, who came to visit me and has yet to hear from me. I have too much to do.

I haven’t found my France journal yet. I was in the middle of putting it on here and misplaced it during my move to David’s. I will try to locate that this week and resume writing about my experiences. I wanted to be done with that by the end of this year.

If anyone has any great ideas for what I could do with my other website, let me know.Continue Reading