elainegrey

I came home and slept for sixteen hours.

Yesterday, i spent a couple hours with the clerk of Meeting discussing our next steps for the changes at meeting (and catching up with each other). I think he was ready to hear about why we were moving and was sympathetic.

After a quick lunch i was off to the podiatrist: i received high marks for my self care, confirmation that it was unlikely anything was fractured, and pages of stretching exercises to do for my feet.

Christine had a visit from elephants: it's so much less frequent, but it was a hard day for her.

My folks did the walk through of the house. My Dad continues to consider it a solid place, but getting it insulated would be an investment. One would need foam injection into the walls (and that might be uncertain in outcome) and relatively less expense in installing flooring and attic insulation. I'd been doing research on the steel casement windows: looks like there are restorers who could come clean up the painted & rusted shut frames, places that reglaze with high R glass, and acrylic storm window inserts that are not too much a pain in the neck.

My mother had listened to my representation of our wish that the house be "not a project" better than i had. She noted how the paint had been directly applied over the paneling without filling cracks. Apparently the paint in the dining area was textured "with some sort of stuff -- sand --mixed into the paint." I wasn't horrified, but Christine was on my relating of the details.

My mom also characterized the sitting room/parlor as an entry way and the dining room as a hall, so there might be some space issues.

The springhouse is a springhouse and there's a pecan tree -- but i can slow down. Getting a place with an extant porch or deck and a fenced yard would be very convenient: here we'd have to have that work done, too.

Tipping the search limits up to the same price and down to the same square footage as the 1950's cottage did pop up a few more places nearer our sisters, so due diligence is comparing this place to those. There's a part of me that still wants the vintage project/investment, that looks at newer places as soulless construction. My sister's place, however, is newer, and does have soul and character.

Back to work today: the install over the weekend still has fallout.

That weekend slid by without much resistance. I woke Saturday with some sinus thing, and after putting in a few hours help at the Quarterly Meeting, i was back home, dozing and napping the day away. I slept late this morning too.

Christine's elephants are trampling her down right now. I know she eventually comes out on top, but she's not where she remembers or believes that.

We're moving offices at the end of the month, so things are coming home. The photos of her from my desk have such a lovely smile: it makes me realize how long it's been since i could take her smiles for granted.

There's some grief.

I woke to my parents calling: they had driven out to look at a .6 acre lot near Pittsboro, NC i'd seen on Zillow. It's selling for half the "Land Present-Use Value," with some comment that the house may well be bulldozed. Dad was saying it was worth it just as a cemetery. (Don't ask me: he's got some interest in buying land for his forever after resting place and not investing in a cemetery lot.) They think the brick exterior looks in good shape. One is left with a "what's the catch" sort of feeling.

We did get chores done this weekend, so that's a win.