milemarker

Sorry for the lack of updates until now. Life has resembled a disheveled and bug-infested hellscape until a day or so ago. With much thanks to friends and family, well William, Jordan, and Annie. (And Carley for volunteering, even though it never happened) we are finally all moved in.

The fish are safe in a pre-cycled quarantine tank while their real planted tank continues to get biologically established in our room. The day before we moved the tank I noticed a single flower had grown from an Anubias plant. It broke my heart to uproot it and move it because it was the first flower to bloom in the tank in a very long time and I would really be upset to kill it. However it too has made the move with no real damage.

Planted tank still cycling, Anubias flower off to the right. Don't know why I didn't try to get it in the picture?

The cats are here and learning to get along with each other. After three days of hiding and territorial hissing, Memphis and Walter have become friends again. Just a few minutes ago they were sniffing  noses. Djinn now has 2 little nerds he likes to intimidate and harass. Sorry Walter, but it's kind of nice that Memphis gets a break from all the bullying, now he has been napping in our room without the frequent Djinn attacks.

"I'm the biggest and the baddest"

All of our stuff is here now. It's scattered all around and stashed in boxes and crammed under the bed, but it is here. Arranging it all neatly and in easy access is another issue entirely. I was able to unpack our bedroom essentials and get our bathroom setup. Beyond that there really is no room to set up any of our other stuff so under the bed has become a vortex of boxes; the contents destined to be forgotten until a much later date when their reopening will be like Christmas morning, except it's all already your favorite things.

Half of the bedroom

The several boxes of miscellaneous items left in the living room have been an endless source of frustration.  Seeing them all over the place, contents spilling out like gory organs, is like a homemaker's nightmare. I want them to be put in their homes, but currently they don't have them so I'm considering just throwing them away. Don't look at the stuff too much and start thinking about what uses it has and how much you like it, just accept that it has no place in this house and bag it up and take it to the dump. It would be the fate of everything that doesn't fit under the bed if not for Joshua.

Last bit of our stuff with Walter for scale.

Perhaps it's because it's his father's house or perhaps it's because the tile floor makes my feet swell and hurt within minutes, whatever it is Joshua has been working magic in what was a filthy dump. He has cleared areas for us to put things, thrown away pounds of garbage and broken duplicate items, brought unfinished projects or neglected items to new life, and most importantly made me feel comfortable in a place where I wanted to curl up in  section of swept floor, spray a protective ring of Lysol around me and cry myself to sleep. (Fun Fact: I have OCD so it's difficult to feel at ease somewhere you consider dirty.) Just last night, even after working a full 9 hour day, Joshua came home and sorted a massive pile of dusty cobwebbed bullshit, then cleared a lovely wooden bookcase for our room. At last I have a storage option for more of our boxes, it looks like this whole uprooting thing is finally coming to a close.

Massive pile of cobwebbed bullshit to the right. Memphis hanging out on the cleared pool table.

Since unpacking has come to a stalemate, I've been throwing myself into my school work. Right now I have a 90 in both classes and I intend to keep them there if possible. Santa Fe has really kept me positive through all of this. Concentrating on my school work has been helping me forget about my surroundings and the massive to-do list hanging over my head, also it gives me a way to better my life when my body is too sore to do any real physical work. I tell myself if I push myself in my school work all of our lives will be better. I can get a coding and billing certificate, work from home at a real person's job, and actually make a decent living. I tell myself that... but I'm too much of a realist to really believe a degree or certificate means instant employment. I also write this blog because occasionally a few people will tell me they like my writing and it makes me think perhaps I could be an author. I mean I've read a lot of really shitty books in my life and if those guys are authors well who's to say I can't be? I'll do whatever I can to stay on top of this game that no one wants to play, but not playing means giving up what we call civilized humanity. With a baby, I will have to play. Life is hard and it will be hard, there's no reason I deserve an easy ride. I don't deserve anything except....

The right to choose the kind of labor and delivery I want. My medical files have been reviewed and I have been accepted for prenatal care and natural delivery through the Birth and Wellness Center. My gender reveal ultrasound is tomorrow at 3:30 and in two weeks, I begin prenatal care at Birthing and Wellness Center. I am really excited but just as I said in a previous blog I think some of my joy is withheld because I feel like something horrible could still happen in the last few months. I have always been afraid to put too much of my heart into anything, because when my heart is broken I don't recover well. I start smoking cigarettes burying myself in other destructive behaviors, comforted only by the fact that I am slowly killing myself. Anyway, fears aside, what happiness I let myself feel is sheer empowerment. I want to have a natural birth because as I've said before I don't deserve any comforts or easy rides anymore than any other woman. Since women have been giving birth for hundreds of years without pitocin and epidurals and hospital beds why am I such a delicate flower that I can't do what my body was designed to do on it's very own. I hear there is nothing like the searing pain of childbirth and often the natural pain relief techniques don't mean squat when the baby is on the way. It seems strange but I'm looking forward to the pain as well as the child. The only way I can describe this way of thinking is that to me such an intense and monumental pain seems exquisite, a true reminder of what it means to be alive. I view it as obtaining some sort of martyrdom without actually having to die. (though you might *wink*) There's just something to be said for suffering on another person's behalf. I hope I can keep this attitude through labor and delivery.

Yesterday I rode my bike through town to get a little bit of exercise. It was hot as hell so I ended up getting an ice cream (toasted coconut flavor!), which I guess negates the whole exercise thing. There was some folksy band playing outside of the ice cream store, they all sounded alright until one woman began wailing loudly in that unsteady and cracking voice that female folk singers love to blare. I had to walk a few blocks away to enjoy my ice cream without being subjected to that noise.

 I always hate when people can play an instrument well so they automatically assume that this also means they can sing and it's a-ok. As a trained singer, it really gets on my nerves. Try and be decent at both things before you do it on the corner, otherwise just play that instrument and keep your folksy mouth shut. Louder isn't always better, have some tone and breath control or else you're just making a racket. >:[

ANYHOW, once I was down the street and enjoying my ice cream in relative peace I looked at my surroundings and suddenly felt like I had been transported into a postcard. Micanopy really has been frozen in time. This inspired me to take some photos today. Also I noticed people with successful blogs post photos...so there you have it. Well halfway there my bike tire popped so I will just borrow someone else's photo for now of the view I had while enjoying an ice cream on this smoldering day in July.

By Karen Peron whose works can be found here

And that's the way it is!