As the two-year mark looms, I’ve been thinking about some things. It seems some of my malaise is quite normal as I go through the process of discovering what my new life will be. I knew the day Alan died my life would be forever changed, and I would have to explore what it would become, but I wasn’t ready to make conscious decisions about it. I’m not sure I am yet, but some of what I’ve been experiencing results from needing to do that.
Since the antique store closed, I’ve been exhausted every evening and have gone to bed extremely early. Supposedly, this exhaustion is my body telling me what’s no longer sustainable. Supposedly, I’m growing into my new self, and what seems like exhaustion and existence is part of that process.
The work on the house is drawing to a stopping point — more work needs to be done, but I need to assess some things. The guys are working hard to complete the roof. I’m having surgery on my right foot in May, so the downstairs bathroom and the ramp need to be completed by the beginning of May. I have been assured this will happen. Mauro has been working diligently, refurbishing and painting my porch spindles. He’s also renovated the decorative balls that go around the top of the porch. He does fabulous work. He has resanded the garage doors and begun staining them. I was planning to get clear marine coat to treat the doors with, but Alan bought a mahogany stain several years ago. And, I was surprised to find three gallons of varnish to go over the stain.
In November, 2024, I purchased a building. Renovation work is nearly complete, and Milam Touch of Love will be holding Cameron events there in April. I will primarily use the building for personal use, and we’ll be moving things in soon. Alan was in the process of purchasing a 1946 Sportsman when he died. I joke that this building is what I did with that money.
KCC Construction has done a fine job capturing Alan’s and my vision for the house. I don’t believe anyone else could have done that.
What will the new me be? I don’t think I’ll be radically different. I have changed in many ways, but I’m still happiest riding my motorcycle (something I hadn’t done for many years). I’m reading. I am considering returning to my fiction work; however, since my friend, Holly Lisle, passed away, my enthusiasm is less for that than it might be. I am planning more motorcycle road trips — probably two to three each year, some longer than others. And, of course, I need to resume my efforts to conduct an estate sale, or a series of estate sales, to thin the number of items we (I) no longer need. I’m not getting any bites on the 1946 Mercury ad in Hemmings, so that’s troubling. Thankfully, the Lambrettas and the GT 380 have all gone to new homes. The Ford 8N tractor has a new home, but it hasn’t moved yet. I have had people express interest in the 1950 Jeep, but no money has come my way yet.
I captured Whitefoot for his annual exam and shots. He wound up seeing Dr. Brinlee, who said he’s healthy but could stand to push away from the food tower more regularly. Since he wouldn’t let me catch him on the days he might have gone to see Dr. Val, I could only conclude that Whitefoot prefers a male doctor.
I imagine some people might think this is the worst time in my life. Perhaps strangely, this is not true. I met Alan during the worst time of my life back in 1985-1987, and my life has improved in nearly every way since then. My life is still very good — in many ways still improving from that low point in 1985. To me, it’s strange that I feel I’m merely existing, yet I also know life is better than good. I don’t understand it. I would characterize this as the saddest time of my life.
Crockett Ave — The Sportsman — is nearly ready to go. Hot water is functional again. Roof vent boots have been installed, a valve has been installed on a vanity, the water taps have been turned on to the washing machine, and excess construction materials have been removed from the building. A friend cleaned the refrigerator and is working on spiffing up the rest of the building. Another friend applied a layer of primer to a wall, and I installed locking doorknobs, got the TV working, and set up the iPad for Pandora. We’ll do some painting, then we’ll move our stuff in.
Construction modifications are complete at Crockett. This is the reception area.
This is where dogs and cats will await their surgeries — or to see the vet on wellness day.
This is the surgery/exam room.
This bathroom is in the waiting area.
The washer and dryer, for doing MTOL’s laundry.
This will be MTOL’s office where will will store records.
This room is off the reception area.
This will be the break area.
This area will be for private use. Did I need a full bath? No, but I had a shower I needed to do something with, so I have a full bath. If the house loses power or water, I can always relocate here for temporary.
They are starting to stain the garage doors.
The county is doing a tire turn in at the end of April. Alan had a lot of tires for “roll around” use. I found a dozen without rims I can take in. I probably have a dozen with rims I’ll need to take off before I can turn them in. Most likely, that will be for another event.
I anticipate the next thirty days will be more challenging. Alan’s birthday was on the 2nd, and next month he will have been gone two years. It still feels pretty fresh to me.
I’m getting the office set up. I’m not rushing this, but it’s taking shape.
Since there is no usable counter space in the break area, this little area across the hall handles overflow and storage.
Alan had these trophies from his rally racing days in the late 60s and early 70s, so I brought them to where people can see them.
