Speculation

The youngest son clan decided at the last minute to show up for Thanksgiving yesterday. Eldest son and his S.O. stayed at the urban homestead. I knew hubs was coming, so I laid in enough provisions for two old geezers. I am still treating this place like a remote campsite and extra provisions are counter-productive on several levels. The youngest clan appearance tripled the head count with two more generations of nutrient need. We had our family meal at the only open restaurant we could find --a franchise working with an incomplete staff. The barely palatable food was served at snail speeds. The young family showed up for the day and stayed for the night, with zero child-specific sleep provisions. It is a moderate night, but I didn't bring allot of extra bedding, either. Some, but not allot. Sigh. I threw what surplus bedding I had into the empty bedroom and let the parental units handle the logistics of putting it to use while I settled in, braced for a restless and rowdy night for the two children, a toddler and an infant.

Turned out to be the best night's sleep and gentlest wake-up I have had in the 2.5 weeks I have been here. I haven't been sleeping badly, but I have been waking up often to the unfamiliar environment and passing the mornings with isolation aches. That would be fairly typical of my field expeditions, so it doesn't even qualify as a problem. It's just road-life. I have spent a great deal of my life in profound isolation, even in a crowd. Perhaps especially in a crowd. But missing my family hasn't been my favorite part of road life since I became a mother 36 years ago. Missing my grandbabies isn't quite as intense as the maternal tug, but I still miss them allot. Sometimes I miss their parents, too, but that's far more complicated than baby love. The 3 year old is acting like he is mad at me for disappearing from his life so suddenly and for so long. 2.5 weeks is a long time in toddler terms. I am sure the parental units explained it to him -- in complex, grown-up terms. Mom and Dad still tend to speak to him as they would speak to their peers. Yes, my adult children, he is extremely bright, but he is still very young. He needs to learn complete sentences before he is ready for long paragraphs.

The survey of potential for this place still has more questions than answers. The answers we have gotten are still ushering in new questions. So far the progress has a good feel to it. So far Hubs and I are feeling inclined to keep the progress on track, but certainties remain in short supply. We aren't ready to commit to any of it, but we don't get to just walk away from it. It is our inherited responsibility, whether we want it or not.

But I am already quite certain that after 2.5 weeks, I am feeling the strains of the extreme isolation here. I am also quite certain that any of the potentials we are seeing here are going to require more manpower than just little ol' me.

Youngest son quit his job last week. I think he is claiming, "Unreasonable demands." I think. Not sure I care. Hubs and I feel like he is simply budgeting his "Ace in the Hole," gambling that Gammy and Gampy will be willing to pay his rent, etc. We find ourselves reviewing "Tough Love" philosophies toward that gamble. My own review of those logics always end with my grandchildren living in homeless shelters and. . . Ouch. . . Much as I hate the feeling of enabling dysfunctional behaviour, my grandbabies in homeless shelters is wa-a-a-ay more than I can handle. Still, Gammy and Gampy's budget is not big enough to support multiple households. Any potentials we develop here on this propert will need to become self-supporting fairly soon. Multiple households in the Boom Capital? You are kidding, right? The fashion prices in the Boom Capital have already inflated to one of the highest cost-of-living spots in the world and is not showing much sign of slowing down while the steady stream of dreamers ready to "pay their dues" keep available employment on less than friendly standards.

The review of how to break my isolation here has been pointing toward hired hands. The speculation of the ramble is whether youngest son and his wife could fill the positions. The wonder brings bitter flashbacks to the MIL/DIL blowout. Was that really 1.5 years ago? During the bitter flashbacks, it feels like here and now. For sure I am far from confident we can steer bringing the couple into this endeavor to a happier ending.

But. . . Still sorting. . .