Yesterday was quite satisfying. With the deadbeat out of the song, my work around the base camp flowed much more freely. The contractor ordeal isnae over. There is still the refund owed and/or legal action pending, but at least the work, itself, is flowing freely once more. I am letting go and letting God on the contractor yaddahs. What will be will be.
Life willing, I will be on the road toward that long-awaited family time next week. My conscience won't let me leave that moldering public health and safety hazard the contractor left in the yard 7 weeks ago, but I donae expect the job of removing it to take very long. It is a bigger job than I can handle alone, but a small crew should have it gone in a day. Two max. Life so often tramples on my expectations, but here's to hoping. I am feeling quite starved for family touch. I will review the validity of the lab/rooftop garden dream after my spirit has been nourished. The contractor stonewall wasn't as painful as a father fuck, but it was painful enough that I still have some healing to do.
I resisted the temptation to start calling around for the trash removal and legal complaints yesterday. I felt calm and rational enough for the task, but decided to go for the safety net of the extra reflection time. I trust focused strikes far more than the emotional floundering. I believe I am holding steady on the emotional floundering, but I am still falling into the name-calling, et al, all too easily. As I have worked to lose the verbal sparring habits, I have come to believe that sticking to the facts is the cleaner vengeance. People call themselves far nastier names than anything I can come up with. Adding my own creative repertoire to the mix only distracts them to their own internal mix and makes me a target in the process. Work it out with your own conscience, compadre. It ain't mine to sort.