Notes from Maine - 2024/06/23
I’ve been working on the attic all week. I need to finish all my repairs up there before the roofing people start, and I’m not certain when that is. My contract says that the estimated start date is July 8. In a week or so, I’ll send off a message and see if that can be narrowed down. I think my repairs will be done by the end of June, but my construction estimates are not great.
It’s fun working in the attic though. There are only a couple of mysterious corners remaining in this house, and the attic was one of the big ones. I will never really take ownership of the dark part of the cellar, but the attic can be conquered. Once I have a new roof and put a decent subfloor up there, it will be well on its way.
For the moment, a chunk of my house is protected by a tarp. I have no view through my window—it’s just a field of blue plastic. With some luck, I should be able to ditch the tarp in a couple of days. I miss working on the kitchen. Progress was beginning to accelerate there. I’m glad I decided to build new cabinets. That work is quick and rewarding. By the time I’m fiddling around with drawers and shelves, I’m sure I’ll hate it.
The appliances came last week. I had been looking forward to them, but once they arrived I felt a weight settle on me. They’re mysterious and make strange noises. The dryer sounds like a blowtorch in a strong wind. While the washing machine gave me a tidy 25 minute estimate for cleaning the first small load, the dryer promised an hour and then underdelivered. When I returned after 50 minutes, the dryer begged for another 20 to finish the job. At 70 minutes, it was still asking for another 8. The manual says this is normal behavior. I’m struggling to understand how that’s possible.
I need to adjust and adapt. I can’t let myself become calcified. The old washer and dryer were familiar, but too old to be considered dependable. They had to go. Someday I’m sure I’ll look at these new, soulless, giant-eyed, internet connected appliances and be glad of them. That day is not today.
I left my butter in the old refrigerator when they hauled it away. I knew I would forget something.
I will never miss that stupid refrigerator. It was constantly breaking down, almost always when I had guests. At one point I was taking care of Dad, had a constant train of home healthcare workers in and out, my sister, nephew, and Mom were all here. That’s when the refrigerator would ice up every day. By evening I had to empty the contents of the freezer into a cooler and sit on the floor with a heat gun to break up the ice. I replaced the defrosting coil, sensor, control until, and outlet valve.
“Let me get you a new refrigerator,” my sister said.
“No! I can’t,” I said, close to a nervous breakdown.
“Why?”
“Because I’m going to remodel the kitchen one of these days and the refrigerator we would get today wouldn’t be the one I would want to get for the new kitchen. I refuse to change my refrigerator twice in as many years just because the stupid thing keeps breaking,” I said. Actually, I’m pretty sure that’s nowhere near what I really said. Truthfully, I was at the end of my rope, not making and sense, and a logical, rational statement of my feelings was way beyond my capability at that moment.
But it’s gone now. I damned the refrigerator to hell and accidentally sent my butter with it.
When these projects are done, I’ll have to rebuild my identity like a recovering amnesiac. Even my dreams have been infiltrated by angles that need to be cut and measurements that never read the same twice. But at least I’m far enough along that I’m beginning to think about the day that the dryer will sing its song and tell me that the clothes are finally done.
