Ok, seriously - the guys just came by the fix the roof. I show the guy the leak - in the ceiling right next to the chimney. Big, wet spot. Leak. Right.

He goes up on the roof, comes back down, and says, "No - chimney look fine. I looked all around. Must be something else."

Something else?

What other than my roof is going to leak? Is it actually spewing up from the sewers and gravity is just on hold for the moment? Did somebody sneak in last night and put a hose through my window into the closet upstairs? Do I have an as yet undiscovered fourth bathroom in which the toilet has been clogged by gremlins with too much fiber in their diet, and now it runneth over? Seriously - WTF? Something else?

"No," I said. "I don't think it's something else. I think it's the roof. Before, it never leaked there. Then you put the roof on. Now it's leaking."

So yeah, get your ass back up on the roof and at least PRETEND to do something. Yes. That's right. Go to your truck and get some caulk. Ooze it out all over the joint there. Smear it around a little. Yes. Thank you.

So he comes back and says, "Yeah. I fix it. If it leak again call J*** *e** and they come fix it again."

Great. Thanks. I wouldn't have thought to do that. I'm so full of confidence now. Wonderful.

So I got a call from the roofers around 8:30 this morning. They're sorry and somebody will be over "ASAP" to fix the problem. It's 11:00. Nobody's here. I'm not impressed.

So yeah. My roof is leaking. Can I just say that it totally sucks when you go with the premium company and the work turns out to be more expensive, but still shoddy? I'm reserving judgment here, but I'm starting to lean towards not recommending my roofers to you. Because seriously - it's raining in my living room. And that's not cool 2 weeks after having a new roof installed.

Even though it totally sucks to stand in my kitchen alone doing a victory dance, because Karl should be there dancing with me, I did one. I knew that I could share it with you here, and that made it a little better.

Why, you ask?

It's 5:00. All the food is ready, save for heating. The house is nearly clean, and Elliot is napping, but should be up soon.

I did good. Go me.

I hate winter. And I'm not saying that lightly in a way where I would tell myself "Now, jes, Hate is a strong word - maybe you should reconsider...?" No. No reconsideration needed, self. It was a very deliberate, intentional, and accurate usage of the word.

I hate the cold. It's physically painful to me. I don't want to get out of bed. I hate that it gets dark so early. I hate that my bathtub is colder than my water heater can make up for unless I turn it up to scalding temperatures, which I can't with a toddler in the house, so I have only tepid baths. I hate that I can never find my slippers, and my feet get so cold I can't feel them. I hate that everything's brown and the trees look like they're dead. I hate the anxiety I feel around the holidays - the media pressure for us all to be so happy and lovey and together, when that should happen naturally without having to eat yourselves sick or exchange presents. Not that I'm not for eating and presents - those are great - it's just the forcedness that bothers me, the pressure we put on ourselves and each other.

And worse, I hate that I hate all this.

Karl loved the winter. He loved snow days, and the way the air even smelled cold. He loved sweaters and hats (when he could find one that fit his rather massive head). He loved bringing in his plants and making a jungle room out of out basement. He loved bracing against a chilly evening with a roaring fire in the firepit and a good stiff drink. He loved the black and yellow, nearly warn to threads hand knit house slippers his grandmother made. He loved Christmas - looking for trinkets and knick knacks for people at thrift shops, or dropping completely un-subtle hints about what he'd like to find under the tree.

This was his season, and I want so much to be able to connect with it, if only to feel more connected to him.

And I would, only, it's so damn cold I just can't motivate myself. So if you'll excuse me, I'll be under the down comforter for a while. I'll see you in March.

I got really pissed off today at the fabric store.

So here's a letter to my fellow customers:

Dear Craft Shoppers,

A line is not an obstacle designed to impede your progress through life. It's more a courtesy we give each other - we acknowledge that we are all important, all have places to be, and all intend to buy the items we are holding rather than just walking out with them (which, by the way, I considered doing.)

Yes, the three women you saw there waiting for the next open lane - they were in line. It was almost polite, the way you asked, then formed line behind them. Then, when the two new checkers came along, and the other people in line were waiting, you went right ahead of the old lady who looked about to fall over dead and the woman holding the sleeping baby and trying to balance her purchases in the other hand - right ahead of them! - into the newly opened lanes.

You did have the decency to stare at your feet as you walked out of the store, passing by those poor souls stuck in the gutter of life, following the societal rules of courtesy and trying to get along, and waiting their god damn turns. You SHOULD look abashed, you smarmy bastards. My son is pretty freaking heavy, and it would have been nice not to have to hold him an extra 3 minutes because ALL 5 OF YOU are SO MUCH MORE IMPORTANT THAN THE REST OF US!

You're probably the same people who keep making the 55N exit ramp a disaster every time I try to cross the river.

You totally suck, and there's no forgiveness left in my heart for you. I hope Karma kicked you in the the ass and you were the ones in that 3 car pile up I passed on the highway.

Grrr.

Love,
jes

I wasn't supposed to be a widow, you know. It's not that I had a plan, that I was set on being something else - a rock star, a doctor, an astronaut. No, there wasn't a plan, per se. I drifted through things, taking jobs that I fell into, doing this and that. Karl and I had that in common. We both tried on lots of possible futures, and if you asked us at any point what we planned, we'd waffle a bit and give you quite a few options.

I didn't have a strong vision of my life, but I did suppose sometimes - I supposed I would be a responsible adult. I might make a career out of this art thing, or perhaps go to trade school and become a carpenter. Or law school. Then again, I might just get a desk job, or management... something that paid the bills, but I didn't have to take home at night.

I never really knew what I'd be, professionally, but I always knew one day I'd be a mother. Elliot was a forgone conclusion my whole life, and the best thing I've ever done. The only thing that could match him would be a sibling.

Which I've actually been thinking a lot about.

In my more reckless moments, I consider getting pregnant. Not heading to a bar and picking up some guy with good looks and a quick wit and then... oops! That's really not my style. More like finding a friend willing to donate, or finding an anonymous donor through an agency. But really when I think back on my pregnancy with Elliot - the flat out exhaustion I felt so much of the time - I can't imagine taking care of him through that. And then there's caring for an infant, which means trading sleeping for non-stop feedings, changings, comforting, cuddling, and bonding. All the while trying to maintain the level of commitment I have to El - yeah. Not likely to happen as long as I'm single.

The more responsible thing (also more realistic) would be adoption. But that's a path full of it's own tangled messes. Domestic and international adoptions of infants and toddlers seem to heavily favor married couples. They also seem to be expensive, complicated, and often frustrating. Not that they aren't ultimately incredibly rewarding as well, but again, I have concerns about keeping Elliot's environment happy and healthy, and a stressed out mommy, well, that makes it rough.

We were out yesterday and came across the Missouri Heart Gallery organization, which works to find adoptive homes for kids. I spoke to the ladies at the table there for a bit, and I'm considering taking the 9 week course for foster parenting in Missouri.

*******

Time Lapse goes here - me running around like mad for a day, finally returning to the computer.

*******

So yeah, maybe another kid. Maybe not. But it's out there in the universe, and we'll see what it brings us.

Lately there's been hard decisions to face, among then this: sleep or blog. I tell you now, in case you haven't noticed, sleep has been winning. It nearly bet out blogging again tonight, but I found a shred of motivation in all the things I've been meaning to write down but haven't.

I'll start with Girls' Weekend. We went to Carbondale, IL for a little get away the other weekend, and while it may not be a mecca of culture and excitement, I had a fantastic time. We had many adventures, not the least of which were questing for small arms ammunition and tiaras (in the same stop), navigating twisting hilly roads with a strict "no vomiting" rule in place, and (nearly) having a young man strip atop our dinner table. I think it's safe to say a good time was had by all, even if they don't remember it.

It was my first time out of town without Elliot since Karl died, and I had anticipated far more dread than I actually felt. I found myself relaxing and enjoying the great company, lovely scenery, and fascinating culture (did I mention the Meat Festival??) in Carbondale.

Next, we move up a little higher - to the roof in fact. I have a new one, which I hope my insurance will be reimbursing me for soon. They put the down payment on it, but until I get the final check I will remain skeptical that they are in fact covering the majority of the replacement. I'm just not typically that lucky. The new fascia and gutters go up early next week, and I'm very excited about the whole thing. Next project: Rain Barrel. Let me know if you know where to get one cheap.

Sometimes it occurs to me, on Saturdays mostly, that I don't get "out" a whole lot. We were busy today with the garage sale at my Mom's house, then I came home inspired to get rid of even more, and cleared out a full shelf unit from the garage. I fed Elliot, and we got a bath, and now he's asleep. Somewhere in there was the realization that, yeah, this is Saturday night, and I can't think of anything I'd rather be doing than just exactly what I did today - spend lots of time with my favorite boy.

Oh, and I made bunt cake. The spell checker doesn't want me to make bundt cake, so there you have it. My day in a nut shell, er, bundt pan.

:)