Moving...

Our house has met all requirements to close. The offer on the house in Nfld has now been signed by both parties, so that for all intents and purposes our move to Nfld. is a go.  I have tickets for the train... I have been looking at cars in Nova Scotia... the only thing left is the divorce and the movers. Something bad came up today which means that it looks like we won't be able to move our stuff. I have shown Mom and Dad's mobile home... so hopefully if that sells then we can move all of our stuff then. I would hate to lose some of the things that mean so much and have been in my family for so many years but we may have to sell it all and start over. The something bad was very unforeseen.  I try to make sure that I have all my bases covered but sometimes you take a hit and you just don't see it coming... but we are still hopeful that it will all work out in the end. We will see soon enough though.

Sir Arsewipe still works on the house. The silly man said he would be finished on Friday and then he said Sunday and then it was Monday and now it is Wednesday and he still has a day of work to do. Tomorrow we have to go to Dawson Creek for legalities with the sale of this house so he won't be finished then either. We also start negotiations on spousal and child support. I absolutely fear tomorrow... for a number of reasons. Firstly because I will find out what I am going to have to live on for the next few years... also because I have to sit in the truck alone with a man that I haven't been alone with for more than two months. I will bring along a book and my headphones so that I can listen to some music and if all goes well I won't sleep tonight which will mean that as soon as I get in the truck in the passenger seat I will fall asleep. That would be good because then we won't have to talk.

Next morning...
I wrote all of that yesterday evening and then pooped out and went to bed before I could finish. I have been awake since 2 a.m. because as I suspected my mind wouldn't stop working on problems that I have to overcome. I am so very hopeful that mom's and dad's place will sell because that is the only way we are going to get our junk home. Mostly I am concerned about dad's chair and the antiques and the personal stuff like photos and Christmas stuff... after that I really couldn't care less. It is all so hopeless... I look at Sir Arsewipe and wonder how I could have been so happy only a few short months ago when everything has turned upside down and inside out.  It really hurts to think about it all and so I try to not think about it at all. I have decided that men are not worth my tie and it doesn't matter what the bible says about divorce because most men are pond scum and I am better off on my own. So there you have it... I have become the bitter hag that I was hoping to avoid.

My great grandmother Leah Sanger had insurmountable problems in her life and she lived to be a  very old lady who seemed happy enough. I've always felt a connection with her story. Somehow I see my life playing out similar to hers. She was married and had five children and lost her husband to Diphtheria I think it was... but some illness... and so she remarried someone that she liked well enough who would take care of her and her children. She was the spinner in the family and had a huge great wheel in her kitchen. she read the bible every day but couldn't read a word... still people would catch her sitting in her rocker with the bible in her hands upside down and she could repeat her bible verses easily... she couldn't read a word but that's what she would say she was doing... she was reading her bible. then her second husband died and she was left to fend for herself...In those days Newfoundland had not become a part of Canada and so there were no widows pensions or money when your husband died. You lived off the sweat of your back and luck and kindness. She lived on fish that fishermen would bring to her or trout that she could catch... potatoes and carrots and turnip that she grew in her garden... and berries that she picked in the fall of the year. Occasionally she would get a bit of money from her oldest son who worked away in Boston. Then as her other children grew up they would help her. Once Newfoundland became part of Canada and old age pension was available she thought she had died and gone to heaven.  Then her daughter contracted tuberculosis and she couldn't afford to send her to the sanatorium and so she died too. My great grandmother was so strong to have survived all these horrible deaths. But she was strong... very strong. She picked berries all through berry picking season and made jams and tarts and things that she could eat all through the winter. My mother remembers her walking along the Catalina road and off into the berry picking grounds with a bag over one shoulder with a kettle and a few teabags and a can of milk and berry picking buckets that she could fill. And that is how she lived. When she died in the early 1960s just a few years before I was born she had reached the ripe old age of 92. She was buried quietly in the back of the cemetery with no stone to mark her passing... I know where she is buried but I do not know exactly... just approximately. 

Well I had better get my butt in gear since I will be picked up by Sir Arsewipe in approximately 10 mins... I need to get a bite to eat and pack my stuff in a bag that I will need... you know marriage certificate... not that it's worth the paper it's written on but I guess you need at times of divorce. Then I need that book and those earphones... desperately... Wish me luck... I'm off...