Wow. What a trip this whole dying thing has been. Unraveled me but good. Nearly took me down. Lost my anchor, lost my mind, lost my control of my emotions, and lost my ability to first make any decisions, and then my ability to make good decisions. It has been beyond hard -- like a galaxy far, far away. Nothing like it. I know we all know that our spouse has died and isn't coming back. We can understand those words, even say those words, but until recently I held onto a glimmer of hope that my happy life with my lovely wife would somehow return. But now I have an acute awareness that she won't be coming back and that she has no use for all her things. And I have no memories attached to most of her things. And I'm over being afraid to touch or rearrange the way she had our house. For those of you new to this grief journey, I went through what became known as my domestic goddess phase. I was a decorating fool. And in all my pain I was able to find humor in my efforts at all things domestic. As a good friend of mine named Darcie wrote often, we've just got to keep smiling and looking only for the good. It really does help us get through whereever it is this grief is going to take us.

And so it is that I have entered into a new phase called, Tearing up the house and really make it my own" therapy. No restraints on me. Remember, I lost my anchor. So I've embarked on a complete remodel of my home. We had gotten a bid for just the kitchen remodel about 4 years ago in the neighborhood of $30,000. That's a boat load of money. But I can do it way cheaper because I work for free. And after my failed recent attempt at marriage number 2, I really needed to keep myself busy. I had fun dating, but I got burned pretty bad. No marriage is far better than a bad marriage. So I've stopped looking for at least the winter. She asked me tonight to get us divorced so she can move on with her life. I'm glad to know she is alive, and she agreed we could be friends. So, I've got lots of time on my hands and decided to rebuild my house just as I am rebuilding my life. Mind you, this all started because I wanted to tear out the carpets and refinish the original 1954 oak floors. But I've never been one to do anything half-ass, and when you start in on an old house, one thing leads to another and another and another. I'm sure there is a smart person's term for what I want to do here, but I'm too old to care anymore about finding and using the proper term. Here's a hint ... think of Scottie as the house. I've got to rebuild my house (life) and to do that, I've got to rebuild certain aspects of myself. And like I said, With an old house, one thing leads to another. Let's see, I was born in 1958. My house was built in 1954. So we're nearly the same age.

Not sure how this is going to analagize out, but first thing I did in my remodel was put in a new front door. The one I had was literally falling apart. And I'm telling you, I did not know an old solid door could weigh so much. No wonder the front of the house shook when I shut the door too hard. And it would wiggle the front porch light so bad that I was constantly replacing the bulbs. Well, I guess I've been shook really hard too, just like my house. So I remedied the house problem by installing a new front door. Good looking fiberglass mocha colored door with 6 "lights" (that's what we in the trade call door windows). Never installed a door before. The new one was fairly heavy, and I was able to manuever it up a few steps and lean it against a part of the house while I fooled around fixing a water damaged sill plate (okay, it was rotten). I'm talking now about the house, not Scottie. Scottie good, not rotten. Well, I was sitting there by the door opening facing out, and all the sudden this gust of wind comes out of nowhere (okay, it was kind of a breezy day but I thought nothing of it). Must have been a tornado force wind because that door was heavy and I had it leanin good. But kinda like our grief, the wind caught hold of that door and I watched in horror as my new $500 door first slammed down on the stepladder, then did a back flip off the porch rail, actually did a somersault and landed in the front yard. The neighbors across the street heard it, and I think they would agree the door deserved about a 9.9 on that dive attempt. After an exclamation that would wake the dead, I inspected the damage. A few scrapes and scratches, but the door held and did not get tweaked. Amazing. A perfect install.

Oh, I decided to build my own cabinets to add to the existing cabinets as part of my kitchen remodel. I refuse to pay all that money for new cabinets, and the ones I have are strong and sturdy. But they are at least 35 years old and you can't now buy this style anymore. So I could hire a cabinet maker to make my additional cabinets, but I'm too cheap for that. So I've spent about $1,500 so far on tools to make my 4 cabinets. I know, I could have bought new cabinets and paid a pro to fabricate doors to match the old. But where's the fun in that? Besides, I get to keep these cool tools. Remember now, I have a small house. So logically, that means no place to put the table saw, the chop saw, the router and router table. Hmmmm. So then I see the light. What the hell do I need a dining room for? There is just me. I have no company. And I eat with no one. So, I'm in the process of turning the dining room into my dream workshop (hey, I'm sure some of you ladies have turned spare bedrooms into "sewing rooms", what's the difference? And to maximize my return on my investment when this house sells after my demise, I am building my workshop with a closet so it will qualify as a third bedroom (cha-ching -- instant equity).

Well, one of our two box stores had a $3,200 fridge on clearance for $1,300 dollars, new, nothing wrong with it, and it is huge. Got it delivered last week. Really cool looking. And at that price, well, I just couldn't pass up that deal. So now I've got me a giant fridge that holds my Diet Dr. Pepper and my water. Someday, I might meet someone that actually knows how to cook and they will have a hay-day with my new empty refrigerator. But wait, there's more. That dang fridge is 1/8th of an inch to wide for my existing opening. But I've wanted to fix a goofy wall in the kitchen anyway, so I'm getting ready to demo and move a load bearing wall over about 4 inches, that way I don't have 2 wall depths in the kitchen, just one straight wall. Moving the 220 outlet for the stove might be tricky, but I'll cross that bridge when I come to it. Fun, fun, fun. This is how life is meant to be lived. No one to tell me what to do, be careful, stop making so much noise, hurry up, don't take so long, do it this way not your way. I'm telling you, I'm like a kid in candy store with no one to tell me what to do or how to do it. Freedom. I just hope the price of this freedom doesn't burn my house down or cause the roof to collapse. Naaah, what could possibly go wrong?

Oh, in all the commotion, I forgot to tell you that I took out the glass patio slider in the kitchen to make room for more cabinets. And I had to put in a new beam (we in the trade call them "headers"). That back door gave me fits. Had some really bad rot on the sill plate and subflooring where water had been coming in apparently for many years. I got that fixed, but it did slow me down. So I've been delayed with everything going on all at once and haven't quit finished my install of the new single light back door (one really big glass window that is the door itself). Really nice. Just the look I wanted. But I have a tendency to get side tracked and, well like I said before, One thing leads to another. Next thing I know, if I am 10 projects removed from the one I started with. For example, I got 2 cords of apple wood delivered into my front yard yesterday for my fireplace (which will be redone as well, new brick or tile, new mantle made with all those new power tools in my dining room soon to be workshop galore). Back to getting sidetracked. Two cords is alot of wood. Won't fit where I had last years one cord. So I ended up doing yard work for the first time since Juanita got cancer nearly 2 years ago. And I saw my jungle for what it was -- it looked terrible back there in our once pristine back yard. I knew it looked bad. It is just that I "saw" how bad it looked for the first time yesterday. And I decided that I didn't want to look at that mess all winter long. So I got busy. Went from remodeler extraordinare to yard maniac in the blink of an eye. So what started out as clearing a place to put 2 cords of firewood, became a mission to clean up my poor neglected back yard. I pulled weeds, really big ones out of this graveled area we had (oh, just so you know how bad my once beautiful back yard had gotten, I actually had tumble weeds. Not ones that blew in -- these were actually growing in my backyard, you know, roots and everything. Dang. I bet Juanita is just rolling her eyes and laughing at me. So in all my efforts yesterday to do 2 years of yard catch up in a half a day, I must have gotten some gravel into what used to be the grass area (all the grass died this summer -- I gave up watering because the only thing that was growing were weeds and now we learn, tumble weeds!) in front of what used to be my gold fish pond and waterfall. So I'm mowing the weeds there, and hit a patch of gravel I inadvertantly raked there from what started out as making a place for my firewood, and as you know, lawnmowers and piles of gravel don't like each other. Well, seems the lawn mower won and threw that gravel everwhere. It was cool yesterday, and I started a fire for fun (actually to burn out the wasp nests) in a pot belly stove I have out there for yard fire fun that I haven't used in a good 10 years. So I notice an echo of the crackling fire by my back porch. That's odd, but you know how sound can play tricks. So I just kept going about my business when I notice that I'm hearing the pot belly stove crackle and the porch crackle at the same time. Usually, you hear either the echo or the source, but not both. So I look over at my brand new really cool new glass back door and to my shagrin, I see a spider web of window cracks appearing before my eyes. Apparently, it took a direct hit when I mowed over that gravel pile. I'm telling you, the 35 year old glass slider doors I took out had 3 times the glass area and all these years I've mowed and not once did I throw a rock that I knew of into that glass door. But I haven't even finished the install of my brand new back door, and it takes a direct hit. What are the odds? Which is what I said when my 4 week marriage recently disintegrated on day 8 after she moved in. What are the odds? I just shake my head. Things just kind of roll off me now.

And so to borrow from Paul Harvey (you midwesterners know who I'm talking about -- I used to eat my lunch in the shade under the hay wagon listening to Paul Harvey). Now you know the rest of the story -- I finally caught a break --- the window in my new back door. Not exactly the break I was looking for, but a break nonetheless.

Ahh, the adventures continue....... Scottie