The 4-Way Stop Dilemma

File this under the It Could Have Been Worse file. Had made plans to take a quick trip to Missouri early this morning, to firm up some short term housing. 

It was early when I heard the horrible sound that chickens make when they are in distress. By the time I made it out the front door and into the yard, Roostifer was already gone. It was a stray dog, a beagle, one we had spotted yesterday, and mistakenly thought we had run off. 

That incident happened just at dawn, and by 9 a.m. we had captured Fried Chicken and 4 of his hens and placed them in the old bunny loft. Two hens were too quick for us, so we took a break from the chasing. About an hour later, one more hen was taken, as well as Omelet, who had ventured out into the yard from her usual safe enclosure. This time, Sweetie got a shot off with the pellet gun, and he hit the dog. 

Enquiries were made, it was indeed nobody's dog; from around here, anyway. Sweetie tried to track it, but the neighbor's said the cur was hauling ass-over-head down the road after being shot.

So. Looking at the bright side, we could have blithely left home for a day or two, only to return to no chickens at all. And I was able to snag that last hen a little bit later.

I'm sad for little Buffalo Wing, as her only friend now is Howard the Duck. But, unlike the folks in John Prine's song, I do know how lucky I am, living here in a semi-rural area, to have not lost any other chickens to predators this year. 

So it goes.

Feed daily.

One thing I haven't said a word about, until now, is Foxy. She has found a new home! It's been a week that she has spent with a young couple in Ft. Knox, and I haven't heard boo. In this case, no news is good news.

I have three pair of hand knit socks, 2 hand knit afghans, one blanket, and one pillow to mend because of her.

My left elbow is healing nicely, thank you, now that Foxy is not constantly yanking at her leash. 

My blood pressure is surely lower.

The only dog left is Princess, who is such The Good Dog! We have been taking her for car rides again, and we took her to Missouri a couple of weeks ago, too.

I am wondering whether I should just re-home the chickens or try to take with. Then there are the outside bunnies to consider. No need to decide right away, as I will be staying here in Indiana for awhile yet.

I emailed the Insubordiknit last week, as I knew she had moved to Missouri a few years back, from New York, if memory serves. She replied with a nice note and a list of fiber guilds and groups for the state. What a relief to know that I have friends there waiting for me. 

Now, breathe!

Just over three weeks ago, on October 26th, I got a phone call from an old boss of Sweetie's, from the Potato Chip Mine days. Said boss asked if Sweetie was working, and so forth, and said there was a job in Missouri if he wanted it.

The first weekend of November, we went west and Sweetie interviewed and toured the plant. It is a frozen food distribution warehouse, with no food production taking place on the premises. It's a very big company, with very good benefits, but I'm not sure I'll ever say the name of it on this blog.

Sweetie came back here, peed in a cup and took the physical at the local plant last Wednesday. Sigh. He failed the pulmonary test, (machine malfunction,) and scheduled a makeup test the next day, Thursday. Which he aced.

Which brings us to Friday last, the day that Sweetie could finally and safely give 2-weeks' notice at his current, yet hateful job. When he got to work that morning, he was asked to step into the office, where they said, "You are a great maintenance mechanic, but a lousy manager, so we are letting you go with 4 weeks severance pay and a good referral." (I said, "You are a lousy manager? Why? Because you are not an asshole like all of the other managers?") 

If you were paying attention, he was intending to give notice as soon as the new job was set in stone, and because he failed the breathing test that first time, he held off until Friday. 

He just heard today that he will begin work in Missouri on November 29. Yay, two weeks of double paychecks!

Sometimes, the cards deal you a flush. (Other times, it's two of a kind.) This situation has all worked out so quickly and so well. Now, all we need to do is sell this place! And move, and get new driving licenses, and find a new home, and and and and………

Nails down to stubs.

I have stories to tell, but cannot just yet.

In the meantime, I wanted to share this link. It's Crackle.com and tonight I watched Jimmy Stewart and Kim Novak in Bell, Book, and Candle. Yes, there are annoying and ill-timed commercials every so often, but still it was wonderful to watch this movie again.

~Link has been fixed.

Love those Innertubes

Thank you all so much for your good wishes on the upcoming move! It means a lot to me. The above photo is one I took today. She doesn't look too shabby, from across the street. I made it the header for the house blog, after I realized that I didn't have a current picture of the house online.

Have engaged a glazier, who has replaced and reglazed numerous windows over the last few days. Thursday, the painting begins. Also have a call in to an all-around handyman person to do a little bit of cosmetic carpentry and repair.

Me? I cleaned out two, yes TWO! junk drawers today. Found things that have been lost for years. Don't act like it hasn't happened to you.

Sweetie has awakened for the last several nights to the 2 am Terrors, and I feel for him. What the fuck are we doing? This is insane! I can't cope. Sounds like my old refrain. But, ya know? It'll be fine. Better than fine. In six months, give or take, we'll be mostly settled in new digs. I will have new photos and new adventures to relate.  And? I'll have insurance! Hot Dawg!

What's not to like?

Show Me!

Back from a three-day trip to my soon-to-be new home state of Missouri. Barring some catastrophe, Sweetie has a good job with good benefits waiting for him, as soon as he gives his two week notice at current crappy job with crappy benefits. I won't say who the new job is with until things are firm, but it is huge. The job is maintenance mechanic at a warehouse distribution plant. Fewer than 60 employees, with a culture of respect and good behavior. His soon-to-be new boss took us out to lunch Friday, and dinner on Saturday. His wife told me that he comes home happy every evening; or at least not angry. I would so like for that to be the future for Sweetie. And he will have actual days off! I have the name of the new boss's real estate agent as he just moved out there in April, as well as a local bank. 

I have put the for-sale-by-owner sign in the front yard, and posted the house to craigslist. Also, intend to post more photos, history, and details about the house here.

Sweetie will most likely stay in a nearby motel until a house can be had, and we may rent at first, so that we are not rushed to buy just any place. However, it is a buyer's dream right now, with low interest rates and lots of places to choose from.

Missouri will be different. More flat than here, but a bit more prosperous. They take great pride in their interstate system and their local roads. We spent a day and a half just driving the back roads. I see another blog in the offing. Also? Alcohol sales seem to be almost 24/7. Yay! 

Anyway. I am cleaning and sorting and throwing shit away and spending time at the computer doing research and blogging. Posting here may be even more erratic than normal, but rest assured, I will let you all know what happens.

The Epic Journey begins.

So.

I asked my insurance agent for a recommendation for a real estate agent. I have never ever used one, and have known Doug since we moved here in 1994, and so when he named this person, I was ok with it. I gave her a call, set up an appointment, and in the meantime, I dithered and fretted.

What I expected from her? A list of What-the-Fuck-Do-I-Need-To-Do. In some sort of order, even. Do this, don't worry about that, etc. A Plan of Action, in other words. Help me!

What I got? Go ahead and move, get your crappy belongings and trash out of the place, and maybe, just maybe, I can sell your house.

Maybe not in so many words, but that was the impression that I got from her. This was after I told her the history of the house, how it was built, stories about the town, la la la.

I fired her last night, and I think she was relieved.

Today, in a fit of inspiration, I decided to make a blog about this house, and I'll try to sell it that way.

The Old Hurst House.

I have pictures and stories and real-ass history. And blogger is free.

Leaving tomorrow for Missouri, a place about an hour west of St. Louis. Job interview and pee-in-a-cup scheduled for 9 am CST. I am still dithering and fretting, but I have engaged a painter/glazier/drywaller in the nonce and have set him to work. Because in the last week, I have come up with my own What-the-Fuck-Do-I-Need-To-Do list.

Where's the bleach?