The Wrong Week to Stop Sniffing Glue--Again
I think I've used that title before. If so, I hope you forgive me, dear reader.
What a week this has been. I've gone into detail on various issues with various people, and will refrain from doing so here. I do, after all, have to work at some point on this rainy (thank goodness--come on grass!) Friday morning.
Monday: Good day. I think. I can hardly remember. Now I can! I made a to-do list. A big one. And I actually clicked it all off! So, busy but good. Fulfilling.
Tuesday: Rollercoaster. Went to put up a fence to keep Olive and the now-deceased Pimento safe from That Damn Horse. After an hour and fifteen minutes wrapping electrical tape around poles, because Kevin didn't bring home the plastic ties that I asked him for ("Do I not even fucking RATE?! I asked him to do ONE thing, blech, blech, blech!!"), I let Olive and daughter out of the pen and bloop! Through the gate they go. Go to two different stores to get ties at 7:30. They are closed. Trouble catching the sheep. F.U.M.I.N.G.
Go to accountants to sign tax forms. Getting a $12,000 refund from our war-criminal fed government. $12,000. Happier now!
I get to the shop and get a call from the president of the Chamber. I got the job. I am the new Executive Director of the Chamber of Commerce. Mixed feelings. Still, the possibilities for doing really good things--and combining two warring entities--are endless. And I'll have a MUCH better office! Right now I reside in the worst-possible-shade-of-lavendar painted basement of city hall, with makeshift government furnishings and no natural light. At the Chamber, I'll have my very own office at the end of a short hallway, with a window, in the restored RR depot.
Wednesday: Fine, productive. Then I tell my father-in-law about the pasture rotation plan given to me earlier by an extension agent. Plan involves splitting the 10-acre pasture in two, and then having temporary paddocks (read--more fence. But movable fence--not permanent, cut-the-pasture-into-tiny-chunks fencing). His resentment boilth over. Seems like he's been politely lying to me when I've asked him "so...you still ok with these animals? this fence?" and saying "yeah" when he really meant "nope". Scolded on about it not being a pasture but, rather, a "riding area" for Little Cousin and her awful, too-dangerous-to-ride-so-she-hasn't-ridden-it-since-fall-and-doesn't-need-25-fucking-acres-to-criss-cross-anyway Damn Horse.
It was bad. He is a soft-spoken man, incredibly good with the kids, very grandfatherly. But when I said, "I really need to know whether or not it's OK for me to have my animals and whether or not I can rotate the pasture to make sure that they have grass to eat and all the other advantages, blah, blah, blah because I spent $2,500 on that fence and I was about to spend even more", he didn't react well. In fact, he was irritated and defensive immediately after I told him what the extension agent had said.
Instead of hearing "I don't want to spend more money on fencing if you don't want the animals here, and I am willing to give them up to keep the peace" which is what I meant (and thought I said pretty clearly), he heard "I spent $2,500 on this fence, so you have to do what I want or I'll pitch a big ol' fit."
Why he would come to that conclusion--the worst possible conclusion--I don't know. That's a little worrisome in itself. What do these people think I am? He parried with "Well we spent $60,000 on that house and I could be getting over $400 a month in rent and our only obligation was giving you a place to live, not a dozen animals and a bunch of fence!" Pointedly. And pissed.
Ouch.
Although he later took it back, apologized, and said that he had misunderstood me and, like humans do, was reaching for ammo to counter me with, it still stung. (Talk about bringing an Uzi to a switchblade fight.) We didn't ask them to fix up the carriage house. If you've been reading this blog for awhile, you might remember that we didn't WANT to live there and were shopping for cheap houses prior to them OFFERING to fix up the house. But we needed their help with a down payment, and they wanted their grandkids close (no mention of them in his tirade about how he could be clearing a mighty $400 month!) It sucks being at someone else's mercy.
Because I'm not going into details (ha.), I'll tell you that as of last night this whole thing is resolved. My mother-in-law told him that they should do anything they can to accommodate my animals--she likes them, she's sure her dad would've loved it that there were cattle back on this land, and I'm sure she likes being the grandparents that have a 'farm'--it's a fun place for kids. Not today, of course, but usually.... And he talked with Little Cousin's dad, and he's fine with everything, too. No surprise there.
And they both see that I love it. In fact, dear reader, I'm beginning to think that I could raise cows and sheep for a living. I talk a lot about increasing opportunities for small-scale farmers and niche-beef producers and the like...why not me? No one else in the immediate vicinity is doing it. And I love it. I really do. It brings me a lot of joy. I'll write about that another time. So you can imagine how upset I was. More upset than I've been in a very long time. But sometimes it takes a falling out like that to get to the truth. Which leads me to another Life Lesson:
When you have to be in a relationship with someone for a long time, always--ALWAYS!--choose being honest over being polite.
Thursday: Had dinner with f-i-l. See above. Another busy day, but not quite as productive.
Friday: So far, so weird. Sheep (see below), the news about the job is spreading, stressed vibes at City Hall (other people, not me), and I'm not getting things done that I really need to do.
BUT...my mom is coming to town tomorrow! The weather is supposed to be great the whole time she is here, and I'll be able to dig my garden beds and maybe even plant some stuff.
I'm looking forward to a better end to this crazy-ass week.
What a week this has been. I've gone into detail on various issues with various people, and will refrain from doing so here. I do, after all, have to work at some point on this rainy (thank goodness--come on grass!) Friday morning.
Monday: Good day. I think. I can hardly remember. Now I can! I made a to-do list. A big one. And I actually clicked it all off! So, busy but good. Fulfilling.
Tuesday: Rollercoaster. Went to put up a fence to keep Olive and the now-deceased Pimento safe from That Damn Horse. After an hour and fifteen minutes wrapping electrical tape around poles, because Kevin didn't bring home the plastic ties that I asked him for ("Do I not even fucking RATE?! I asked him to do ONE thing, blech, blech, blech!!"), I let Olive and daughter out of the pen and bloop! Through the gate they go. Go to two different stores to get ties at 7:30. They are closed. Trouble catching the sheep. F.U.M.I.N.G.
Go to accountants to sign tax forms. Getting a $12,000 refund from our war-criminal fed government. $12,000. Happier now!
I get to the shop and get a call from the president of the Chamber. I got the job. I am the new Executive Director of the Chamber of Commerce. Mixed feelings. Still, the possibilities for doing really good things--and combining two warring entities--are endless. And I'll have a MUCH better office! Right now I reside in the worst-possible-shade-of-lavendar painted basement of city hall, with makeshift government furnishings and no natural light. At the Chamber, I'll have my very own office at the end of a short hallway, with a window, in the restored RR depot.
Wednesday: Fine, productive. Then I tell my father-in-law about the pasture rotation plan given to me earlier by an extension agent. Plan involves splitting the 10-acre pasture in two, and then having temporary paddocks (read--more fence. But movable fence--not permanent, cut-the-pasture-into-tiny-chunks fencing). His resentment boilth over. Seems like he's been politely lying to me when I've asked him "so...you still ok with these animals? this fence?" and saying "yeah" when he really meant "nope". Scolded on about it not being a pasture but, rather, a "riding area" for Little Cousin and her awful, too-dangerous-to-ride-so-she-hasn't-ridden-it-since-fall-and-doesn't-need-25-fucking-acres-to-criss-cross-anyway Damn Horse.
It was bad. He is a soft-spoken man, incredibly good with the kids, very grandfatherly. But when I said, "I really need to know whether or not it's OK for me to have my animals and whether or not I can rotate the pasture to make sure that they have grass to eat and all the other advantages, blah, blah, blah because I spent $2,500 on that fence and I was about to spend even more", he didn't react well. In fact, he was irritated and defensive immediately after I told him what the extension agent had said.
Instead of hearing "I don't want to spend more money on fencing if you don't want the animals here, and I am willing to give them up to keep the peace" which is what I meant (and thought I said pretty clearly), he heard "I spent $2,500 on this fence, so you have to do what I want or I'll pitch a big ol' fit."
Why he would come to that conclusion--the worst possible conclusion--I don't know. That's a little worrisome in itself. What do these people think I am? He parried with "Well we spent $60,000 on that house and I could be getting over $400 a month in rent and our only obligation was giving you a place to live, not a dozen animals and a bunch of fence!" Pointedly. And pissed.
Ouch.
Although he later took it back, apologized, and said that he had misunderstood me and, like humans do, was reaching for ammo to counter me with, it still stung. (Talk about bringing an Uzi to a switchblade fight.) We didn't ask them to fix up the carriage house. If you've been reading this blog for awhile, you might remember that we didn't WANT to live there and were shopping for cheap houses prior to them OFFERING to fix up the house. But we needed their help with a down payment, and they wanted their grandkids close (no mention of them in his tirade about how he could be clearing a mighty $400 month!) It sucks being at someone else's mercy.
Because I'm not going into details (ha.), I'll tell you that as of last night this whole thing is resolved. My mother-in-law told him that they should do anything they can to accommodate my animals--she likes them, she's sure her dad would've loved it that there were cattle back on this land, and I'm sure she likes being the grandparents that have a 'farm'--it's a fun place for kids. Not today, of course, but usually.... And he talked with Little Cousin's dad, and he's fine with everything, too. No surprise there.
And they both see that I love it. In fact, dear reader, I'm beginning to think that I could raise cows and sheep for a living. I talk a lot about increasing opportunities for small-scale farmers and niche-beef producers and the like...why not me? No one else in the immediate vicinity is doing it. And I love it. I really do. It brings me a lot of joy. I'll write about that another time. So you can imagine how upset I was. More upset than I've been in a very long time. But sometimes it takes a falling out like that to get to the truth. Which leads me to another Life Lesson:
When you have to be in a relationship with someone for a long time, always--ALWAYS!--choose being honest over being polite.
Thursday: Had dinner with f-i-l. See above. Another busy day, but not quite as productive.
Friday: So far, so weird. Sheep (see below), the news about the job is spreading, stressed vibes at City Hall (other people, not me), and I'm not getting things done that I really need to do.
BUT...my mom is coming to town tomorrow! The weather is supposed to be great the whole time she is here, and I'll be able to dig my garden beds and maybe even plant some stuff.
I'm looking forward to a better end to this crazy-ass week.
posted by lulu | 8:05 AM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home