I tossed her the tarps and went back down and shut the water to the house off. It was 5 hours after the water was turned off before water stopped coming through the ceiling. In that time Mom & I got a lot of furniture out, covered, tarps down. In a break around 8:30AM I called my brother who came over soon after. From there he and I began to get the larger furniture out, lay down more tarps, buckets, and bail out of one of the windows.
This was the scene around noon:
This was the window which we were later throwing buckets of water out of (like bailing a sinking boat) and later on my brother and I picked up the tarps full of water and literally carried them bunched up with the water inside out of the window to dump them.
Its been a hell of a week at the house, with this, with me being in and out of medicated stupors, and with the now begun cleaning out of closets which means a TON of books are going back to the Book Bear. I'm a bit of a collector of things, as in I have extreme difficulty letting go of something - even if I don't care whats in it. I'm super sentimental. I have clothes that I have owned for over 10 years.
Now... you have heard me talk about my Father... How much he influenced me when I was alive, and even after he died - he continues to be an influence. Now JUST IMAGINE me trying to figure out which of His books I am willing to part with. Anything with Locomotive, Steam, or Metal in the title stays - I don't care, it STAYS.
Also going through some of the bags mom had packed away of books to be sold or traded, I found a few first editions which he had mentioned to me in the past - one being Hemingway's Out of Africa, the other being From Here to Eternity - by Jones I believe(?) but in perfect (but obviously read) condition. I am glad I caught those, and put them back in the book case. These are all books that will end up in my apartment one day.
There is plenty else going on, some which can't be put down here as while it effects me heavily, it is not my place to put it out there for anyone to see.
I sometimes feel as though I am slowly going out of my mind. People can make you feel like such shit when you're disabled, because sometimes I Can do things, but a lot of the time I can't. I forget things, things get away from me, I can get slightly cranky when the pains up, I'm not always easy to live with - and I give my mother HUGE credit, and admiration for her willingness to live with me, to keep me around, to tolerate the things that make me sick, and to keep such upbeat spirits. All in all we get along fantastically, but sometimes there's tension, but, well, she's my mother, I'm her son - and we take care of each other.
One of the stress's right now is selling the house. Its a magnificent house. We've done a lot of work - a Lot of which was done by Dad and I, or Walter helped by Dad & I, or Steve Sr - helped by me, or Jim Williams helped by Dad, or Brent helped by Me... But do you see the common themes in this? But I mean the plumbing, heating, Wiring, Roof, windows, Kitchen, some bathrooms, painting, plastering, flooring... So the idea that what the house is worth, and then what it's worth here, then well, we're trying to sell it - but this isn't the proper TIME to be selling it - but it's a lot of house for a teacher and a guy on disability.. sooo... It's not like when Dad and my Brother lived here too.
But yeah, so life, life is life right now. But there are good things - most of which outweigh the bad. I also frankly don't care, no matter how bad it gets, it could be far far worse.
ANYWAYS... I'm done ranting for now.
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