Assorted mediocrity in The Big, Blue House, year one.

For this to work I suppose I need to actually type something at least once a week, even when there’s nothing noteworthy to type about. It’s hard for me to articulate most of the time, which frankly scares me, but there’s no history of neurological degeneration in my family, so it’s probably fine.

Don’s been nice for more than two weeks, so of course I’m always on eggshells wondering when that will stop.

The house repairs list grows, so I’m making an order of wood and roof patching material the 1st of October. Yay for Home Depot delivery. Bigger yay for not being too broke to fix anything like in years distant past.

I’m ill. That’s ‘normal’ for this time of year. Until I feel better I’m spending my time playing Guild Wars 2 with Don and doing light house work.

I’ve moved into the ‘master’ bedroom and begun the process of turning the walk-in closet into a sort of upstairs kitchenette. There’s a metal bookcase type shelf in it that came with the house, so I filled it with non-perishable foods, plasticware, paper towels, etc. Don’s supposed to bring the old microwave in out of the garage for me to put in there at some point, but the garage is, to use his terminology, ‘spider central’, so I can understand if he doesn’t get to that in the immediate future.

Don was supposed to start sleeping in the smaller second floor bedroom, but he’s still sleeping on the couch. He won’t or can’t say why. (And I hate my own lack of ability to communicate, he couldn’t describe his feelings relating to himself if his life literally depended on it, - except when he’s mad. Which is probably a clue to why he is the way he is, if I’d stayed in college.)

I’m guessing he staying in the living room because that’s where the big TV with the Roku is. (And we keep getting ads for cable. Who are these cable customers tragically unaware of Roku, Nvidia Shield, Apple TV, etc? It boggles the mind. )

Today’s goals are to change my phone number with Social Security, do the business taxes for Don, (I always have. He cooks my dinner and cuts the grass and takes out the trash, so fair is fair), and if I feel better clean the basement. Thrilling stuff, right?

I’m trying to figure out where to put my easel in the big bedroom so I can get back to paining regularly. Don sawed the legs down so I can use it from a chair, and he brought one of chairs out of the garage and washed it for me. Now I just need to pick a spot. The two eldest cats have the front windows claimed, so I’ll probably have it in the middle of the floor. The bed is in one corner, the door is in one corner, one wall is pretty much taken up by closet doors, (why there are two closets in one bedroom I have no idea), and the other two walls are taken up with furniture and an air conditioner.

If I could get back to painting regularly, maybe I’d feel less meaningless.