Force Majeure Strikes Again
Complete with guard cat, ski bear, blue door and flowers. Photo by Wendy Stieg
We Have Arrived
My first impulse was to write another How To article, or work on my blog in other ways, but my Muse has struck again. Apparently, I have more absurdity to reveal. Here I am, writing at my desk, realizing we have been here since May. That means we have lived in our little 1948 bungalow in Montrose for three months. What could possibly go wrong in three months, you might ask? Other than Paul shattering his wrist and me still searching for a job, nothing! Well, maybe a few more things have happened that are out of our control, but that’s not all terrible.
Here we are, three months into our new venture in Montrose. Are we there yet? Maybe we’ve arrived at The Next There. Apparently, we are poised for something, but what the something is, I do not yet know.
In fact, force majeure doesn’t necessarily have to be “wrong.” As our friend Bill loves to say, “Ducky (AKA Paul), things don’t happen TO you, they happen FOR you.” OK, Bill, we get it. We are supposed to be more positive. Except neither one of us is capable of it all the time. That’s why we are friends with Bill. He can always inject a bit of sunshine into any circumstance. So where have things gone wrong, and where have they gone right? Maybe things DO happen FOR you.
Paul Got Broken After We Moved
The cast is gone, the pins are out, but the stitches remain. Photo by Wendy Stieg
One day, about 20 minutes into a mountain bike ride, Paul called to tell me he was pretty sure he had broken his wrist. I was not exactly in the mindset that this was happening FOR us. But let’s see where we started and where we are right now. Here we are, three months into our new venture in Montrose. Apparently, we are poised for something, but what the something is, I do not yet know. We started this crazy idea by putting the Cortez house on the market, and things went remarkably well from the sale to the purchase of this home. Ironically, this house wasn’t even on the market. Our realtor suggested that we look into it. We managed to get the purchase to work out, so we are understandably thrilled.
Then we moved. We might have been the Clampetts, because we were leaving a quirky place in America, but we did not land in Beverly Hills. Also, the Clampetts did not have multiple large cacti, two crazy cats, and an elderly Chocolate Lab. We arrived with most things intact, and fortunately we have a large basement because I was not able to part with everything Paul thought I should get rid of. But that’s a story for another day.
We have a history of thinking we could be other people, like the time we decided We Could Be Lewis and Clark, If Lewis and Clark Were Obsessed with Bikes, Giant Cacti, and the Neighbors.
Reality Starts Setting In
Cat door #1. Photo by Wendy Stieg
It became instantly clear to me that I probably should have listened to Paul. Just don’t tell him that! The Cortez house was 1,350 square feet, and the Montrose house is 852 square feet. We had already given away, sold, and otherwise removed the equivalent of a whole bedroom, a dining room, and plants. But there was still too much stuff for the house. We managed to sort everything, but the debate continues between what is too much and what is not enough. Between Paul (Mr. Get-Rid-of-Everything) and me (Wait! Keep That for a Minute!), the Just Right will eventually sort itself out.
How adorable of us to think that while we downsized, rearranged, and removed various objects, we were actually done moving in. The cats needed not one but two doors, we had no vent for the electric range (I wish it was gas, but we do have a lovely home), and Gibby seemed to be leaking. Elderly gentleman Labradors often need some help in their twilight years, and our lovely Gibby is no exception. Looking around at the Cacti Menagerie, it was abundantly clear that new pots were in order.
Stuff Needed Fixing
So we located a wonderful handyman who has since installed the cat door into a really cool Dutch door that Paul wanted. He also added a vent hood and ducting and will be adding some tile to the backsplash areas. So far those projects are going well. Paul took a saw to a single board on the fence, so now the cats have their own doorway out of the yard. Gumdrop has taken to charging that mini door whenever neighborhood dogs find it necessary to poke their noses in. The owner of the husky from down the street told me Gumdrop gives the husky regular swipes. I have seen him do that to any dog who doesn't yet know better. Gumdrop is the family guard.
But recently, force majeure struck again when Velcro got sick. We caught it pretty quickly, but between Paul breaking his wrist and Velcro getting sick, some of our funds are quickly disappearing. Cat health care costs more than human health care in some cases! Let’s just say that was some sticker shock I don’t care to repeat.
Here We Are Now
The Complete Cactus Menagerie: I count 16 individuals. Photo by Wendy Stieg
Here is the picture: the cats have their two doors, cooking smells do not remain well into the next day, and Gibby has new nighttime undergarments to help him manage the leaking. I get to do a lot less laundry this way. The cacti survived the move, and we are finally settling in.
That means we are easing into the next phase of Moving House. Many small jobs made themselves known recently. The front door wanted to be painted bright blue, and the front porch, albeit small, desperately needed flowers. I started by planting two hanging baskets and two ceramic planters. Just yesterday I found baskets of flowers on sale and used them to fill the two large planters in front of the windows. I knew it was now or never for getting the Cacti Menagerie settled into new pots. This was followed by a dumb marital dispute as we moved prickly cacti from one abode to another. Moving cacti anywhere generally involves some choice words.
This was not our first dumb marital dispute. More dispute fun in A Beautiful Evening Accompanied by an Annoyed Paul.
And now it has become apparent, to the second of us, that yes, the cacti may need to be re-homed. I just wish we had realized that before I bought more pots… Ah well. Getting a cactus from Paul means you might not get to keep it anyway! One of us has been counting cacti, looking at the house, then going back and counting cacti again to see if we can even move them all back in on Cactus Day. Some rehoming will have to happen, so the Cactus Housing Crisis is not yet averted.
SO: Cats are happy, dog is annoyed by the belly band but not leaking, husband is recognizing space limitations, wife is still the Manager, and the Cactus Housing Crisis continues. On a positive note, Paul is still employed, I am still looking for part-time work, and the Big New Life is not completely settled. Messy middle again? Force majeure? Yes. I think it’s our modus operandi.
Now What?
Despite force majeure striking, resulting in a broken wrist, a sick cat, a leaky Labrador, and cactus uncertainty, things are moving along. So, what comes next? I never really know. But I do know that we are meeting Laura in Vail on Thursday. JRAD plays Vail on Friday and Dillon on Saturday. Laura is one of our partners in crime, and a legit Grateful Dead fan. The Manager has this under control. Because THIS time there will be no accidentally getting into a not-Uber, no babies will be bothered, a leaky Labrador will pose no problem to the bed in the hotel room, and perhaps some surprise visitors may make their way to Vail and Dillon. I know better than to think everything will go as planned. So, three people, an elderly Chocolate Lab, two nice hotel rooms, and maybe some added guests. What could possibly go wrong?
We have learned a few things about traveling together, as documented in How to Travel Without Killing Your Partner, including the importance of making sure your Uber is actually an Uber.
