Emma

Emma died several weeks ago of COPD. Not a good way to go. But she had Sven and her new little cat with her. I haven't asked Sven for details; it's just been too painful for him. He called me two days after her death. I imagine during that time, he was busy with the hospice, the crematorium people, and dealing with his own grief.

He has said that there will be no memorial service as they had so few friends out in the little town they lived near. I'm getting some of Emma's cremated remains. I've seen ads on Facebook for services that use ashes to make glass objects. I'm planning on having a pendant and a paperweight made out of the ashes I receive.

My method of grieving has been odd. I don't weep for her. Instead, I'll have these instant thoughts where I think, I really need to talk to Emma. And then feel a hollowness in my stomach when I realize no such thing as possible.

I was able to visit her one more time before she died and was planning a trip back to visit her days before she died. I'm sad and disappointed I didn't, but maybe it's for the best. By then, Emma had stopped taking morphine because it wasn't doing anything for her anymore.

I am concerned about Sven, who has fewer friends there than I thought. I would not be surprised if he sold the farm and moved back to Chicago. That might take him a couple of years. Their house is messy inside and generally in disrepair outside.

Emma's therapist has called me several times, for which I am grateful. Emma asked me to call her several times as she got closer to dying. I gladly did and felt like I had an instant friend.

I'll miss Emma the rest of my life. Hers was far too short. She said when I last visited her that she was surprised I didn't die first. I said I was surprised, too, but there we were.

With this, I feel like I'm beginning my third act of my life.

Many Little Adventures

I'm in Richmond now. I'm sitting at my desk at my bedroom's front window. The cats have been transported and are contained within the bedroom.

Ma Maisonette Bijoux, for a great deal of money, has been transformed. It looks like a model house or a furnitureless Marriott room. It was professionally painted inside. The outside was fine and just needed a little bit of TLC on the landscaping. I also had new floors put in throughout the house. I also had the kitchen replaced/refaced. I've seen pictures and my real estate agent raves that it's beautiful. The biggest challenge was cleaning up the cat stink. My realtor grumped about that quite a lot, afraid and rightly so that it would ruin any chance of sale.

Within a week of being on the market, we received 13 offers. Some were ludicrously low, almost insultingly so considering the amount of money that had been spent to get it up to snuff. The best offer, the one that was accepted, was for $10K over the asking price. Luckily, it appraised for that price too. The inspection was yesterday and turned up some problems, as to be expected of any house that hasn't had major work done on it in 20 years.

I hired an organizer to help me sort through the house. Because I didn't have any friends in Jersey to help me with the move (besides, who in their 60s expects friends to help them move? That stuff gets left behind when you move out of your last college apartment, or it should.), Ellen the Organizer and I went through books, kitchen cabinets, drawers, every place in the house. She came out twice a week and at the end, was with me when the junk haulers came to take away the junk and when the movers came to move me out.

All during the decluttering/shedding process, I reflected on how much money I had spent on things that had very little use or a short lifespan. Yes, I did get rid of books. I got rid of even more after there was a small flood in the basement when the laundry sink overflowed. That only hurt a little and I'm proud to say that I didn't go back through any of the bags of trashed books to salvage anything.

I made a lot of trips back and forth from Richmond to Jersey. I drove most of them but I also took the train a couple of times. I became familiar with Uber. On my last night in town, I stayed at a Fairfield Inn and slept like the dead.

Sophie and Toby were easy to catch. They each wandered into an open carrier and decided to take a nap, which is when I quietly closed the carrier door. I drove them down to Richmond the next day and Toby occasionally caterwauled his captivity. For Peach and Mia, my exterior exterminator agreed to come and catch them. This was done on separate occasions, which was a stupid move on my part, but I was focused solely on the move. I should have had him catch them both at once (they were secured in my bedroom) and taken them to the vet where Mia could finally be spayed - only I forgot about it, I was in such a rush to get her down here. A numbskull moment I am still bemoaning.

But we are here now and mostly settled. I want to get my room painted a nice cheery yellow. I have a new mattress for my twin bed and the finest linens from Tar-zhay to grace it.

Two weeks ago, I went on a very long train ride from Richmond to LaCrosse Wisconsin to visit Emma, who is now on hospice care, and spent last week recuperating.

Now I have no excuse not to look for a job. I have a Virginia area code phone number and spiffy new phone. My resume has been updated and now needs to go out on Dice, indeed, and Monster.com.

I'm learning Kim's ways and we have already settled into a lovely routine of having breakfast together on Sunday mornings.

I have been Ma'amed to death and called "Miss Becs" whenever anyone learns my name. Still, I like it. I do live in fear, though, of losing my accent and gaining a Southern one.

The best part of all though is that a breakfast of biscuits and gravy is only two miles and three dollars away. And that sounds like something close to Heaven.

I Wish I Could Live Here

All kinds of wonderful things are going to be done to the house. I'm having new Pergo floors installed throughout with the exception of the bathroom. (Already nicely tiled.) The house will be painted throughout. And a fabulous new kitchen will be semi-installed. By that I mean, I'll have a new countertop (gray quartz), white wooden Shaker doors installed on the cabinets, and the cabinet faces laminated.

It's going to look damn nice. I wish I could live here, but the die has been cast and I will be moving to Richmond by the end of March.

At Kim's, I released the cats (Sophie and Toby only because they were easy to catch) into my soon-to-be bedroom and they both scarpered under the bed. Kim reports this morning that both are well and have a good appetite.
Meanwhile, Peach refuses to go anywhere near the trap. Any ideas, anyone? Bueller? Bueller?

Mia is loose in the house and really enjoys being the only cat.

I drove back up from Richmond yesterday and was so exhausted when I got home that I fell asleep for five hours. What happened to the days when I was the Mad Driver and could push for five hundred miles a day, then get up and do it again for days in a row? What's that you say? It was forty years ago? Well. That might explain things.

Ellen the Organizer and I are going great guns. Next place of attack is the basement before the GOT JUNK people get here on March 7.

It looks like the next two days will be rainy and unsuitable for unnecessary driving, so I'm aiming on taking Peach and Mia to Richmond on Saturday then coming back Sunday. I get tired just thinking about it.

Burning Daylight

Or, in the case of today, mixed rain and snow.

I have hired an organizer/nudge to come out on Thursdays. We have made enormous progress on the living room and kitchen. Next we have the three bedrooms, all in dire need of attention. Ellen is a lovely supportive person who has help me make several difficult decisions. One had to deal with a pair of cowboy boots that I had since I was about 4. I've held them onto them all these years. My grandfather, a professional  photographer, once made a photo of my boots laying beside the open screen door. He named it "Her Majesty's Boots" and this is the only one of his photos that I've wanted to keep, but alas, it has fallen out of family hands. I wanted to make a little display of it. Ellen explored various options with me, but it was obvious that bugs had gotten to them and bored three holes into each boot. She said I could keep them. Due to their state, no one would likely buy them. In fact they would probably be thrown out. She suggested that I take a photograph of them. That seemed to be the perfect solution, so I did. I was able to dispose of the boots with minimum anguish.

I've hired the movers and 1800GOTJUNK to deal with most of my stuff. In the meantime, it's only one month until GOT JUNK comes out, so I'm thinking of bringing in for twice a week, for a total of six hours a week. In the meantime, she gives me assignments to do and I do them.

Yesterday was hectic as I tried to find a vacuum repair place but went to one that is in the process of going out of business. The other one I tried was closed although it had a sign on the door giving the hours at 11 - 5 everyday except Wednesday and Sunday. Going back to Google, I've found a couple of other shops, all of which are closed on Wednesday.

My realtor is being enormously helpful in finding me tradesmen to repair and improve the house. The damn cats have cost me a fortune in flooring.

I also worry about transporting said damn cats down to Richmond. The only real hardship I see is trying to trap Peach the Feral. I'll close up my bedroom where she usually hides and will leave a trap in there. It didn't take long to catch her the first time but she may be wary of my wiles now.

I'm not looking for jobs now and enjoy the feeling of sticking out my tongue at the recruiters who call me. Am I in the market for a new job? Why yes, I am. About five hundred miles away. Still, maybe they have associates who can help me once I'm settled in Richmond.

I imagine I'll be settled in Richmond around the first of April. And most of this fretting will be behind me, except for waiting for the house to sell. Please sell fast, Ma Maisonette Bijoux.

Refugeeing South

So I've come to a point in my job search where I'm getting few interviews and the few I get pan out to nothing. I've run out of my unemployment insurance. I cashed in an IRA and barely have enough money to fix up the house to put it on the market.

I didn't get really serious about it until this week. I called my realtor, the one who sold me this house. She's coming on Monday to look at the house and talk things over. I've had one estimator for a move come out and two more coming next week. Most of my stuff is going into storage but I don't anticipate it being in storage for that long. I'll be getting rid of stuff. I'll have to do most of the packing myself. After that, I'll call in painters and people to replace the carpet...and roofers. This will leave me very little money to make house payments with. I'm thinking of hitting up Xman but doubt it will end well.

This coming weekend, I'll go down to visit Cousin Kim, just to get the lay of the land. It doesn't matter if I like it. I will have to like it and be reconciled with my position. My only other choice will be homelessness, which is really no choice at all.

I should rejoice. I'll have a room of my own and I won't have to sacrifice any of my cats. Emma's offer is still open and mentioned to me, but I trust my gut with this one. Emma is too mentally unstable and she wants me to get rid of two of my cats. I could only do that if Cousin Kim dropped out on me.

Dr. A thinks it's wonderful that I'm moving in with Cousin Kim. Kim is very cheerful and sometimes chirpy. Dr. A thinks that's the medicine I need. And she also likes that I'll have another cousin down there and a possible few friends from long ago.

Just pray that the house sells quickly. My financial stability depends on that.

I'm Just No Fun Anymore

Well, it's true. All this fretting and worrying about my future have left me emotionally exhausted and it's hard to be funny or at least entertaining with my heart in my throat and my pulse hammering in my back.

I've gone on interviews - one would have meant a commute of 80 miles per day - and answered phone calls. I've replied to email and I haven't had one offer for a job. People tell me it will be different after the holidays. I don't think so.

It's hard to sleep at night, despite my medicine regimen.  Add to this a wonky shoulder that hurts like anything.

I've been spending my time hiding on Netflix.

It looks like the Cousin Kim option is the way I'm going. From Ma Maisonette Bijoux to someone else's Maisonette. From Jersey to Virginia. What on earth will I do with all those wide open spaces? I might actually come across a spot on the highway where I see no houses.

I have an appointment with Dr. A today. I feel like I can't go anywhere until then.

I'll keep on with this. Maybe something interesting and un-terrifying will happen to me, but I wouldn't hold your breath.

And yet another possibility presents itself

I have money. I don't mean, as in, I have MONEY, but I do have some money set aside in various 401Ks and IRAs. It occurred to me last week that I could, having reached the ripe age of 62 and nearly 1/2 take a modest slice from these without incurring penalties. Taxes, yes, penalties, no.

This plus being off my meds for about five days (now remedied, back on them) caused my little heart to soar for most of Saturday and come in for a soft landing yesterday.

This gives me time to do a lot of things while obviously continuing to look for a job. I can downsize what's in my house and do a lot of cleaning out. This while preparing for either a roomie (yes, I'd take that chance again) or moving in with Cousin Kim. Neither is ideal, nor is the situation in which I find myself. Still, it's another out. Or in, depending on your point of view.

I would like to get some kind of office work, something not in retail, something where I'm not on my feet all day. That seems to be as hard to find as hen's teeth but as I said before, I should be checking Craigslist.

I'm still going to check into social services, although I'm counting on nothing.

Yesterday, I began creating a new schedule for myself and believe that sticking to it will be good for me.

In mundane news, the cats are all fine. When I sit on the couch, I'm quickly joined by Toby and Sophie. Lovely. The snow here on Saturday was lovely to watch from the comfort of the sofa. The driveway fairies came overnight and all I had to do yesterday was find my gloves and clean off the car. Yay.