Diversion
Yesterday morning found me swimming in flashbacks to when Hubs enjoyed peeking through windows with me. Not voyuerism. I only peek through windows of empty buildings. Occupied buildings arenae that interesting to me. I can see those much better on film in a comfortable chair. My fascination with empty buildings is as old as my fascination with watersheds. I believe the two intrigues developed side by side. I seldom go far out of my way to peek through winddows or wander through abandoned buildings. When I pass by them, the curiosit piques, so I peek in the same spirit that I might pause to watch birds quarreling in the trees.
The flashbacks surprised me. I had completely forgotten that Hubs EVER accompanied me on those diversions. It didn't take long to get past the surprise. One of our earliest bonds was that we were both weird enough to consider 5 miles to be walking distance. It is rare to find a 5 mile stretch with no empty buildings in it. I seem to recall that quirk being on the list of things he liked about me. Seems. . . During my struggle to build a life after motherhood, I often wonder if he ever liked anything about me and was just saying whatever it took to keep his pickle tickled. Setting that part aside for now. . .
Yesterday's medicine hour on the Tennessee River happened at an empty house which is for sale. The wave of flashbacks hit as I made my way past the house to the river bank. The intensity was enough to knock the wind out of me and force me to sit a spell on the back porch of the house. The view of the river was magnificient. I probably would have paused there for a spell without the flashbacks knocking the wind out of me. I couldn't have asked for a better spot to ride out the episode.
The lead-in flashbacks were delightful memories. Two spirited young adventurers finding adventure in their own back yard. Who needs money. The best fun in life is free. The crushing part of the sequence was moving from there to where we are now where sharing such an adventure would have Hubs defending his wallet from the greedy, blue-haired bitch before we peeked through the first window. If I press the issue, I all too quickly find myself showered with "treasures" I didn't want. I was just enjoying some free entertainment, Love. Oh, for the love of balance. . .
I am fairly confident that I gave up on sharing this diversion with Hubs around the time we bought our first house in 1989. For reasons I still donae understand, the difference between paying rent and paying the mortgage sent him into drama intense enough to end in a 3 year separation. To my senses, the diff between the two payments is as sensible as the diff between the two sides of a river which is being used as a political boundary. Different by the legal verbage and the name on the monthly check. Hubs saw diffs that look downright psychotic to my senses. I was running my computer graphics biz from home at the time while caring for a 5 and a 9 year old. Adding his daily rants to the mix gave the challenge nightmare overtones for all.
Returning to the here and now, I am pretty sure the flashback series was triggered by the conflict between a diversion I enjoy under any circumstances and Hubs' withdrawal of his support for my plying that diversion toward an actual investment. Well. . . He hasnae officially rued out the possibility of allowing it when he has time to supervise his dependant nincampoop. When the bees stop buzzing. . .
Dunno. . . Sorting. . .
Replies
If the place is empty...would the owners consider short term rent, just to have some one "on the property and in the house' for protection? By the river might be a good place for your sorting?
I love that mlr0853 asked those questions. By the river might indeed be a good place... (((HUGS)))
The rivers are why I am in this region and can't seem to pull myself away. A place on a river is one of my longest running dreams. I really do want to be a river rat when I grow up. . .
As for contract potentials. . . I believe it unwise to conduct business during a psychosis. We see what I have to work with after the psychosis passes. Small steps, big faith and lots of prayer.
Remembering a time you enjoyed with a loved one only for it to merge into something painful sounds like double ouchies. ((((Hugs)))). Do you have blue hair?
No literal blue hair for me. I can't believe people actually put those chemicals on their heads. I tried hair treatments a few times and . . . I'd rather stick my head in a sewer. . .
In my mother's generation, hair dyes were primitive enough that prolonged use created some unpredictable side effects. Blue hair was the most common. Very few men died their hair in those days.
The cosmetic industry seems to have corrected that problem. In my circles, it is a figure of speech for a neurotic old woman. That I am. . .
I talked my son into dying his hair blue in middle school. He didn't tell anyone (he was a bit uncertain about it), just walked in and watched the double-takes...