November 25, 2012

Beds and Trailers

Life in the desert continues, of course, with many of the same ups and downs that mark life in the big city. As they say, no matter where you go, there you are, which is sorta another way of saying you can't go anywhere without taking yourself with you.

Although I'm in a new place with new opportunities, rewards, and challenges, I'm still me. Even if they're not in a nicely (or poorly) labeled box, my virtues and flaws are still with me, but that's okay.

State of the home:

As can be imagined by now, this little place is livable, at least by my standards. Many, if not most, of the things I need are available to me and sitting in places that I'm guessing will be their new homes. My needs, in other words, are pretty much met and it's just down to wants.

That only took me about three weeks, and I'm not sure if that's good or bad.

There is about four or five times as much stuff outside as inside, and just about all of that crap is still in boxes, although none of the boxes are sitting on the ground any longer. No, they're up on tables, covered by a tarp or inside the shed, stacked on top of each other.

To be fair, over half of those boxes are books, which I still have no idea where they'll end up, or computer stuff, including old DOS stuff and games. At one time, I thought I might end up selling them on eBay, and I still might try that.

The inside is still cluttered with things wanting homes. I have fantasies of putting them all away, but one thing or another stands in the way. Like, I feel I need to have a working computer to set up the computer work area.

While I have most of the big shit done, there's still tons of niggling little loose ends gnawing at me and making sure I stay stressed. Most, if not all, of these things pretty much require me to make decisions, something if I was ever good at, is a virtue that's fallen away.

Like, for example, a bed.

I've been thinking about this since before moving in. I had a bed in my old place, of course, but, naturally, the process of having one here is one of those things that I'm complicating quite beyond what's necessary.

First, I really liked my old bed, but it was an old one from Ikea before they went to selling them here in US sizes. I moved the bed, which is all wood and sitting outside, but was talked into abandoning the mattress. The bed was a bit larger than a standard full size but smaller than a queen, and is too large for my current situation.

That's okay: I don't mind downsizing. A twin bed will do me and Minardi just fine (he said hopefully).

And here's where it starts getting complicated or, more truthfully, where I start complicating things.

I've looked around the Internet and have found several beds that will do just fine. Getting them out of the store and up here to my home, however, makes me pause and think, something that's rarely good for productivity or, as the kids say, getting things done or even over and done with.

I have, I guess, three or so ways of handling this.

One, and this was my original plan, is to buy a small utility trailer for the Jeep, one of those 4' x 8' metal frame things that I can use for hauling things around. I even found one, a bright purple one!, and was on the verge of buying it when I started shying away because of the $1000 it would cost.

If it costs, say, $20 to rent one, I'd need to use it some fifty times before breaking even.

Now, I once had plans of building all sorts of additional structures, patios, sheds and the like, up here, and a trailer would be very helpful if not downright necessary for hauling all the lumber up here. Also, there's still the matter of that loveseat, or couch and loveseat, that my niece wants me to take.

I'm sorta putting that off. The loveseat I would love, but I can't see that I'll ever have room for the couch. In any case, getting that loveseat up here means moving it the hundred miles from Murrieta back up here. That could be done with a trailer.

To see how much it costs to rent one of those little utility trailers, I looked on the U-Haul site and they run around fifteen dollars. I'm sure with taxes and all the other, extra charges, that would come close to the twenty bucks I figured. The thing is, according the fine print, they said something about the vehicle (in this case, my Jeep), having to have a hard top.

My Jeep only has the soft, convertible top, so I'm not even sure at this point if they'd let me rent one. It may be something that's required, but that the people at U-Haul wink away, or it may be a real sticking point.

If I owned my own trailer, like the purple one I wanted but am sure has already been sold, that wouldn't be a problem.

Also, my Jeep is the smallest model and can only tow about a thousand pounds, total. Having made the trip up here a few times now, I can imagine it would be long, slow haul up the mountains to get here. I already have to be in the slow lane to let the zippier passenger cars speed past and have to downshift to make it up the steeper parts, but have no idea how slowly I could make it up the mountains bringing a few hundred extra pounds with Minardi and me. My ego doesn't suffer when I'm passed, but I hate holding up traffic. I look in the mirror and imagine how annoyed everyone is at me, and I don't like that feeling.

To get back to the bed, Ikea has one that would be perfect and a perfect fit.

The nearest store, however, is about a two hour drive away, each way. That doesn't bother me, but (if nothing else) adds about forty or fifty dollars in gas alone to the cost of the bed.

Ikea will happily ship the bed, mattress, and supporting slats to my home address for around sixty dollars, but if I had a trailer, I could also buy a bed and mattress at a closer place, maybe even cheaper. Just ten miles away, just down the hill, there's a furniture place, and I think there's a couple more within twenty miles or so.

If I get the Ikea bed shipped, that's one less thing I need a trailer for, and for some reason, I consider that important.

So, now, instead of worrying about beds, I'm back to worrying about trailers. Everything is dependent on something else.

Trailer pros:

I get to move five to six hundred pounds of stuff by myself, when I want

I could haul my garbage to the local dump

I'd own a trailer, which is sorta cool

Trailer cons:

It's a lot of money that I'm not sure I can afford

Slower drives, pissing off more people

What if the purple one isn't available? Do I want a boring black one?

I've heard you can pick up used ones on Craigslist for quite a bit cheaper than the thousand dollars the trailer dealer wants for a new one, but I haven't found one yet. The good thing about the trailer dealer is that they handle licensing and registration and stuff and, since the trailer's new, it would probably hold together for awhile.

Since these little utility trailers are considered by most people who want them to be cheap, I'm thinking most of the people who buy them just have one and hang onto it because it's always coming in handy.

The worst thing, of course, and the most likely to happen, is that I'll order the Ikea bed and have it shipped and also buy a trailer. That would be both stupid and a waste of money, so I can't imagine my not doing it.

November 18, 2012

Shed, Arise!

The clock says it's almost 0630 the sun is just now edging over the horizon,and I hope that event will nudge my thermometer up from the forty (5) that it now reads. It's not supposed to be warm today, but I might be outside working and that should keep me comfortable.

One of the unexpected features of this property was a homemade shack, about 4x8, which would be very useful for storing a lot of my boxes, especially the ones full of books that there's nowhere to put inside. I have a lot of books.

Perhaps the biggest reason the shack wasn't mentioned in any of the real estate hype and description the way similar structures were on all the other offered lots is that it's laying flat on its back. At sometime in the past I'm guessing it was blown over, but it doesn't seem to have suffered any damage.

It is, however, heavier than hell, and I couldn't budge it to save my soul.

My Jeep, however, has no soul, and I'm hoping that might make all the difference.

I've thought about getting that shack standing up for the past two weeks and have decided I really should have spent any attention at all in those physics classes I had to take to graduate. The way I see it, it's a question of friction

While I'm pretty confident that I could attach some ropes to the exposed bottom of the shed and, using the Jeep, drag it around, that's pretty much exactly what people mean by re-arranging the deck chairs on the Titanic. Sure, it would put the shed in a different place, but it would still be flat on its back and not particularly useful. Yes, I could drop stuff in the doorway and climb in and out of it, but I want it standing up, proud and filled with my crap.

So, off and on since I've been here, I've been thinking about how to accomplish that.

What I've decided to try is to screw a couple eye bolts, long, strong ones with those circles on the ends, above the door opening, up near what would be the very top of the shed. In technical terms, on the front near the apex of the roof. Then, run a rope through them, tie it to the Jeep, and by easing the Jeep forward, tilt the shack up and have it end up on its feet.

That's the positive mental image I'm practicing.

The thing is, though, until I actually try that, I don't know if it will work.

The way I see it, one of three things are likely to happen:

1. As hoped-for, the shed is pulled to its feet and there is much shouting and rejoicing
2. Instead of standing up, the shed is pulled apart
3. Instead of standing up, the shed slides around on its back

Thus, my conclusion that this will be a matter that friction ends up deciding. What will be the path of least resistance for a shed on its back when it's asked to move?

Of course, it's also likely that the eye bolts will pull out. Only time will tell.

November 16, 2012

...Then There Was One. Or Two.

I was able to cross a couple items having to do with utilities (loosely defined) off the to-do list yesterday and only have one of those left. Completed, now, are water and electricity (the most important), television and Internet (the most fun), and, added yesterday, gas and sewage. The only one left is garbage pickup, which has to wait until I get proof of ownership from the county, which could take forever given San Bernadino's bankruptcy.

A couple days ago I worked up the courage to call the plumbers my realtor recommended. I have to admit, plumbers scare me. Not only are they able to do something I've never been good at and usually my efforts at make worse, not better, but the cost of their services often comes in at a frightening, sickening number. More than once my hopes, life, and plans have been washed away by having to fork over tens of thousands of dollars to guys with wrenches, shovels, and rooters.

And here I was, the proud owner of my first septic tank, having to ask a professional to search my property and find the damn thing and let me know what kind of shape it was in. I'd been putting this off, afraid of what the answers would be, but when the guy came to install the satellite dish for my Internet, the first thing he asked while he drove through my gate was where the septic tank was.

I shrugged my shoulders, gave a sheepish look, and told him I had no idea, but I thought back to earlier visits to homes like mine out here and the kind of troubles that people driving over plumbing and plumbing-related features can cause. One of the things talked about quite about on the Internet sites I looked at to learn a little about septic systems is how poorly they respond to people driving or parking cars on them.

Since I had hopes once, and maybe still do, of putting up shed(s), a place to keep my Jeep, a patio, walls, floors, and other construction fantasies, it was kinda important to know where not to build. Also, I have to admit I was curious.

So, I called the plumber and left a message when the “out of office” recording suggested I could. Half a day later, I called again, and the guy who answered didn't sound all that helpful and gave no sign of having received my message. He assumed only someone who bought a foreclosed property wouldn't know such a thing but said he'd have someone call me.

Then, they didn't.

The next day, day two, sometime in the morning my cell got a call that I didn't answer, but I called right back. The guy who answered my call was difficult to communicate with, and I ended up deciding he wasn't the guy who was supposed to call. So, that afternoon I called the plumber again and learned the locater guy who was supposed to call me had been sick but was expected to return later that day and he'd call me then to arrange the appointment.

To his credit, he did, and would show up the next day (yesterday) between ten and noon and would be more than happy to locate the tank for $150 cash.

To keep up my end of the deal, Minardi and I piled into the Jeep about eight-thirty and headed the ten miles into town to get the money. We drove back, I drove past my house by mistake, and ended up at the post office, which I knew to be a mile or so past my place.

As I pulled into the parking lot to turn around, I saw the sign that claimed that not only does Landers boast ten thousand residents, but that it's known as the land of unlimited vistas or something like that.

I also learned that Minardi can, in fact, jump out of the Jeep's window should he want to do that.

I slammed on the brakes by the time he hit the ground and only later did I figure out that while I'd secured his snappy green harness to the seat belt, I don't think I'd fastened the seat belt, not that I'm convinced that would have made any difference.

He was absolutely fine and was cowering on the ground when I'd made it out of the Jeep and around to his side, but it was hard to say who was more frightened.

A little after we got back home, Rob showed up in exactly the sort of truck I'd imagined a septic pumper would look like. He was as tall as I am, which is the kind of thing I notice, and was easy to get along with and not at all concerned about Minardi running around. As it turned out, he has eight dogs (!) of his own, and doesn't care much for people who don't like them.

I tried to be helpful and pointed out the two pipes coming out of the ground that I'd found, which he pretty much wiggled and ignored, and also the cleanout, that stub of a pipe that plumbers use to stick rooters in to clean out clogged systems.

He was more interested in that and soon had the rubber cap removed and was sticking something down it. I was more interested in the pipe that the cap had covered, whose top was rusted, uneven, and looked to be rusting away, but he paid that no mind.

He let me know that the cleanout ended up in a V, one side leading directly to the house that it was right next to and the other toward points to the northeast.

That was the more interesting trail for me and, seemingly, him, too.

The trouble there being that there was only a few feet of property before the fence surrounding my house shows up and to get to it you have to exit the gate and walk all the way around.

Which we did.

He wiggled a magnetometer over the ground, and I made a weak joke about using a divining rod. He told me he'd used them, too, and assured me they work, and I just kept quiet but couldn't help internally wincing at his faith in magic.

He found a likely place and using a half-inch metal pipe that attaches to a hose, began poking holes in the ground. I was stunned by how easily he was able to stick the pipe in the ground: it was just like putting a knitting needle into a cup of yogurt. When he made his first poke into the area he'd marked with his shoe, he hit something metal just under the surface and I complimented him, saying something like “You're great!”

A minute or so later, when further pokes failed to turn up anything, he joked that I might want to think about taking that remark back.

He moved a few feet away, about a meter or so due east, and his magnetometer started squealing again. As much as I hoped what it was locating were lumps of gold the size of my fist, his face remained stoic and serious. He poked at the next promising spot and, again, struck metal.

I could hear the “clink” as the metal rod struck something below the surface, and so could he. This time, however, he was able to repeat the results as he kept poking around that first place and spent the next few minutes discovering its outlines.

I was thinking he might be poking too hard and might punch right through the damned thing, but he soon stopped and began talking to me over the fence.

And, it was all good news.

Despite his earlier warning that this might end up being (another) of those old steel tanks that were falling apart, he proclaimed it in good condition. It turns out that when checking other ones, he literally had poked through them, and that's one of the ways he used to figure out if they were any good or not. The septic tank, he explained, has two chambers and there's an access port on each. The one more frequently used (?), the one that collects the liquid from its initial deposit in the one that hold the solid waste, felt like it had a plastic cap, which is newer and evidence of more recent maintenance.

Also, he asked me to pass over a couple of the paving stones that came with the place and placed them on top of the access points.

I'd been thinking of marking off the area for my own, so this was quickly done. One at a time I passed them over the fence, which we both appreciated.

Then, done, he spent half an hour or so talking first about septic systems and then about Landers, where he'd grown up. I learned about trails, where are good places for hikes with dogs, how he rolled his truck when he was a teen on an old runway and ended up losing his car but gaining a wife, and how the area had changed (and his thoughts on what caused that).

Then, he only charged me half as much, which shocked me. Plumbers don't do that! They charge you ten times what you expect to pay!

He took off and, now that I knew where the tank was and that it was safely out of the way, I made my next call to the people who fill the propane tank that sits just to the north of the house.

I had to fill out some paperwork to become a client before they'd do anything, so Minardi and I got back in the Jeep and drove back to town. The tank, since I'd arrived, had a gauge on it that had been sitting at zero, so I'd figured either the tank was empty or the gauge was broken. From what I'd assumed, the only thing the gas was being used for was to fuel the water heater but made arrangements for them to bring 100 gallons of liquid propane out today.

I'm expecting they will, but to make sure they'll be able to get close enough, I need to move a whole pile of boxes that are sitting on tables, the heavy boxes that are full of books.

I'm not looking forward to that, but am looking forward to the future. The next step(s) will be:

• Move the boxes over by the other boxes, just outside the west window
• Try to stand that shed on its back up on its bottom
• Failing that, run to Home Depot and buy a little shed

Then, onto the more recently discovered problem … how to get a working computer.

Friday, November 9, 2012

Survived the wind and am ready for more, which is good because I think that's exactly what's going to happen. Right now, it's as calm as it usually is, but the day is early and much can happen.

Yesterday's big news, of course, was hearing from my sister, who called me at about a quarter to four. She's out of the hospital (yay!) and living in the apartment with Rachael, but the best news was how happy and chirpy and good she sounded! Yeah, I was very worried about her, but it seems she's doing well and, more importantly, going to do fine.

Also, although I'm told he cried for a day, Mika is doing fine as well.

A little bad of disappointment this morning when I went to check the weather: my radio has stopped working. Why this would happen, and happen now, is a troubling mystery. It was fine yesterday (so it survived the move unscathed), but this morning … nada. I'm a bit worried, being me, about the outlet somehow screwing up or screwing the radio up.

Yes, I'm troubled about the electricity here even though I don't think I have any cause for it. Just general, perhaps residual, nervousness.

But that's not the point.

Things to do today:

Around ten or so, Michael should show up to hook me up to the Internet through a satellite. We talked a bit about wireless connectivity, but the more I think about it, the less important getting that to work is. As I was lucky enough to have mentioned to him, all I need is one ethernet port and I'm good to go.

I don't expect any trouble swapping the cable or with running a sneakernet for a little while.

I'm down to four or five kitchen boxes, at least inside the house, and one last bag of clothing. Those need to be unpacked today.

...speaking of electricity, I want to mount the new Belkin octopus/surge protector thing under the west window, but I'm not sure Michael will find it acceptable. Also, I want to put an extension cord behind Stefania so that outlet will be usuable.

I still find it weird that the surge protector I used on Ramsgate doesn't work no matter where I plug it in. Why is electricity giving me problems here? First that, then the radio. Hmmm...

But, the TV is working fine.

Thursday, November 8, 2012

Well, this is different, and probably even more different here in Landers than it was in Los Angeles by the airport. According to the radio station the Jeep found, one serving the Morongo Valley ??, it's a light rain and I'd have to agree.

I woke up around four, after seven hours of interrupted sleep, and when the sun rose, it was actually pretty (again). This time, the prettiness came from tinges of red in some clouds, which reminded me of that “desert sunrise” picture on the Landers Wikipedia page.

Also, as it turned out, it should have reminded me of that “sailors take warning” saying. Around eight I got a little concerned by the growing clouds and even though the weather channel showed nothing, that general, national station not only occupied itself more with the storms (Athena (?) on the east and Brutus on the West) than what was happening in the California high desert.

Imagine that.

Anyway, I started by moving one of the bookcases, one of the yellow ones, and by the time I had it inside and a couple boxes stacked on it, the radio was talking about 40mph gusts of wind.

Either before or after that, I'd covered the rest of the cardboard boxes outside with tarps, but the weather warning certainly got my attention. Also, it began sprinkling and, knowing nothing of the weather or the weather patterns here, I had no idea if the little smattering would be all we could expect or if it meant a huge deluge was coming.

I still don't know.

But, as of now, the outside is mildly protected and the inside is more crowded than ever. All three bookcases are inside and, while moving the white cabinet that came with the place, the one I assumed was a closet, I found some more electrical outlets, which could prove helpful.

Then again, that new outlet, which might not even work, is now safely behind the Stefania bookcase.

While pretending to work on the kitchen stuff I made a discovery. One of the small cabinets is actually pretty good sized when you open it and learn that it has a double folding door hiding one of those lazy Susan metal rack things, just like Cybele's.

Since it was designed to hold food, I emptied two cabinets that I'd first stocked with food onto it and then loaded up the cabinet over the stove with pots and pans. This was all before the rain / wind prediction, but I brought in two more boxes (the last ones I knew about) that contained kitchen stuff and moved the water dispenser and bottle back outside.

The rain came around 7:30, and it's now 8:00 with some cute little wind stuff going on. One tiny gust just wiggled the front door.

Whatever it was that I looked at to see when the rain started told me, or I read, 8:25, but I now discount that since I find it unlikely that I've done everything I've done since that first sprinkling in five minutes.

Since that first sprinkling, like I said, I moved all the bookcases inside, re-arranged the boxes to put the group near the west window under some tarps and separated the plastic containers from the cardboard boxes.

I still have no idea what I'm going to do with most of the stuff I brought with me. Of particular interest is clothing and kitchen, but there's a big space under the kitchen sink where I expect to put all the same type of cleaning crap that usually sits in places like that. Upon investigating it this morning (my first look in there), I found what may be a cutting board and a small rack that is separated into five sections. That cutting board has been cut, trimmed, and is marked for the next step, but I have no idea what it's expected use was.

Also, I just heard that it was 43 last night and (??!?) expected to be 39 tomorrow night!

I just tried it and the wall heater / air conditioner does, in fact, throw warm air into the room.

The afternoon's wind is forecast to come from the southwest, and I have no idea how common that is. Give me time.

*** 1500 update ***

Not only have I arranged for Internet service, I've also grown panicky and put some of my clothing onto a bookshelf.

Around two o'clock it was sunny outside, but sprinkling. The reason I was outside to witness that is because I laid down for a nap while listening to the radio and became increasingly worried about the upcoming wind storm.

They're still forecasting 25 mph winds with gusts up to 40, but I'm the only one calling this a wind storm. These desert people, it seems, shrug this off in exactly the same way that I used to laugh at Los Angeles “rain storms.”

My biggest worry was that some of the lumber and things I have holding the tarps down would be hurled off and break my western window. I made some adjustments, but frankly have no idea what winds this strong can or will do.

I expect to find out.

My other worry is the Jeep's paint standing up to the sandblasting, but there doesn't look to be much sand blowing around, not yet, anyway. I guess the lighter dusty stuff blows away all the time and isn't on the surface.

So, it's a little windy outside now, with some little gusts. I think I'd be overly optimistic to think that this is what the wind event will consist of.

*** 1945 update ***

The storm, or wind, showed up and is still going on. My worries and efforts to protect the windows and the stuff sitting in the yard were, as usual, excessive. While 25 mph winds, if that's what we're having, may be too strong for bicycle riding, they're not as drastic and overwhelming as I feared.

So watch, now things will change and by tomorrow morning everything will be scattered all over my lot and each and every window in my home will be broken by the hurled lumber I used to keep the tarps in place. Just you wait.

Today Minardi got a green harness, ideal for Jeep riding, and I tested shopping. Yeah, it was a day off.

I got up, ultimately, around 6:30. The sun was already up, so I missed that, but I didn't feel all that bad and never did, all day. I wasn't very productive, but some little things got started and I did see that, as I'd sorta figured, the nice house across the lane (literal), is up for sale.

Next time I go to the mailbox, I'll check to see if it's the same guy who sold this place. It's Coldwell Banker, so it's the same company.

My morning coffee was decent. I haven't had a great-tasting cup since getting here, but they were always a fairly rare and random event. While enjoying it and the view, I made up a shopping list and tried to plan to get a lot done with Minardi.

He's not only very good at riding in the Jeep, he never complained about being left in it when I ran into the various stores. At first I felt bad about leaving him in the car (that lady shaming me when he and Mik came up for that first visit when I had to stop to get them water), but he gave no sign of complaining. As I tried to point out to him, it's better than being left at home.

I forgot to bring the measurements I'd made, but got some mini window blinds (which are the right size), a hacksaw for that mystery lock by the front gate, did some shopping at Big Lots for a dish drainer, at Food For Less to see what that's like, and a quick stop at Vons for coffee and Pets + for the harness.

It's ten miles from the intersection of 62 and 247 to Reche, and 12.1 from the intersection to my home. That's not really so bad, especially when you consider how quickly many of the miles can be covered.

I wasn't able to make any progress on the lock. Master, evidently, know what they're doing when the build even their cheap locks. I didn't even get half of one of the two brackets needed for one of the mini-blinds screwed to the wall before giving up because of difficulty seeing and driving the screw.

I did the dishes, pretty much for the first time, but where the things go in the kitchen has yet to be determined. I'm thinking it may be better to just put stuff away and worry about it later. If nothing else, moving stuff in and out of drawers and cabinets may give me a good excuse to clean things up, not that any of the cabinets need it yet.

I called Dish to see if I could get hold of Laurie (or Lori), and the guy I talked to seemed to know who I meant, but wasn't able to transfer me or, seemingly, send her a message to call me back. Last Friday, when I talked to her and signed up, she said she'd call me back and arrange for the Internet, but … well … I'm still without it, she hasn't called, and I need to figure out which company has the best price.

I got the phone number off the billboard on the corner of Reche and 62 and while planning my shopping, found great use for the Yellow Pages that were left here, which also include Internet companies. I guess I'll call the mystery people, HughesNet, and Dish tomorrow and see who can give me the best price for a 10Gb a month plan.

There were some clouds forming this afternoon, the first time I've seen any, and it's actually kinda cool now at 1630. One thing on my shopping list, moved over to shopping list 2, was a thermometer, just for kicks, and a clock.

Yeah, the stove and microwave each have a clock, but neither are easy to see. The biggest problem is the direction they're facing, but close behind is that they're both LED displays, which wash out in the sun.

I wish the Dish Hopper Receiver displayed the time, or even the channel, but all I get is a green LED and a red one if it's recording something. So, I need to get a cheap battery clock to put up over the front door.

And so this day begins.

Minardi got up about 0430 and stood by the door. That was my clue, and although it was only seven hours or so after I went to sleep, it's okay.

I got up, opened the door, and Minardi looked out. He ate while I got the coffee going, and is now laying on his snoozy while I'm up, typing, sipping coffee, and watching Morning Joe on MSNBC.

I miss Bloomberg. Sometimes this life of deprivation has its downsides, like when I'm deprived of something I enjoy.

Today's plan: the kitchen.

Things may not end up where they'll go for good, but I'm hoping as I put things away maybe some sense of arranging will emerge. It may end up being a cross between where I'd like to have things and whether or not they'll fit there. I'm expecting to have quantity or size be as major a factor as my desire, and will probably end up with some things going in this or that cupboard because they'll fill it better than whether or not I want them there.

A lot of this life may end up depending on what I can keep.

Also, and this is more related to arranging my shit than you may think, the other plan for today is calling the trash people and maybe even the gas guy. The tank in the yard, I think, is pretty low, but thanks to what I learned yesterday, the only need I have for gas is for the water heater.

I'm guessing it doesn't use much.

And, also on today's schedule, is another Minardi test. He barked yesterday when I left him to run to the store, but he's going to have to learn to be alone here. Neither of us may like it, but chaining him up outside a store may not be anything he likes, either. I'll have to see how people here do things, and I may end up getting him a harness.

Bit by bit I'd like to think we're adjusting.

*** ***

Now it's noon, and by “noon” I mean about 10:30. So far today, I've done nothing, but I did discover that the drooping weather seal on the Jeep's upper windshield, which I just discovered last night, isn't a silly thing from the top but is from around the windshield itself. I'm not sure how concerned I should be, but I can imagine either nothing happening or the whole windshield popping out.

So, I tied the weather stripping out of the way with a tiny red tie-wrap.

Went for a quick drive and Minardi barked again, at least during my return. We walked around the block, and he was moving very slowly and wasn't at all perky or interested in much of anything. I figured part of that might be the altitude, something we both need to adjust to, but I may have been fooling myself.

I called Rachael to check up on her and Cheryl, but had to leave a message. At the time, I'd pretty much decided (again!) to give Minardi to Cheryl to make up for the turtles I lost, to repay, just on general principles, and maybe to give Minardi a little more joy than he seems to be having here.

He would enjoy being with Mik again, and Cheryl, too, and then I convinced myself he doesn't like me much, anyway, and the thought of giving him away broke my heart.

Yeah, there were some tears, but since then I got the top back on the Jeep, something that's getting easier each time either because I'm getting better at it or the top, itself, is more pliable than it was the first time I did it.

Which also may have been the first time it was ever done by anyone.

It doesn't feel all that important that it's election day, but I can follow it on TV and I'm not sure that I would have remembered today was that day without that! Part of that, of course, is because I already mailed my ballot in and don't have to show up and vote today, but remembering that reminds me that Cheryl may be SOL.

I hope not.

November 5, 2012

This morning saw one kinda major achievement, a little more fiddling while Rome burns, and this afternoon brought an introduction to a neighbor who brought some good news and the arrival of television.

Also, a meager windfall when one of the Dish network installers bought my 16' ladder for $60. I think her name was Tanya, but it could have been the other girl, who was equally large and burly looking. Well, this is supposed to be a life of deprivation and I do have another ladder. If I feel silly about owning three or four jackets and coats when my closet is only one square foot, I can't be running around with more than one ladder.

Besides, I think sixty bucks was a good deal and there's a real good chance I won't use it any more, anyway. Not unless I need to get on the roof.

But that's not the point.

I didn't sleep nearly as well last night as I did the first night here, but maybe I wasn't quite as exhausted. It took a few cups of coffee and my usual post-coffee and get-up lay-down before I finally succumbed to the day and got a little busy. With the armoire. Jeez, what a beast that beautiful thing is.

By about nine it was in the house. While it's basically impossible for me to move, roll, or dolly it from the side, I was surprised at how easily it moves if the dolly is on the back. Got it to the door without a sweat, but then I needed to cover the pavers with plywood and lay it down on its side to get it in the door.

That, of course, required the “front room” to have the things in it moved to make a good-sized empty opening. The armoire fell off the four-wheeler once or twice, but it made it in and was all ready.

I was a little afraid, but the TV survived the move and worked when I plugged it in.

My Dish appt was any time between eight and noon, and I moved some boxes onto the tables in the yard and did some measuring with the tape measure I was able to find. The yard, I guess, looks a little neater with the boxes on tables instead of just sitting on the dirt, and there was a hint or two of organization, but it's still mostly random or dependent on weight and box size.

I wanted to leave room for the Dish people, so only the small blue bookcase made it into the house and is now situated under the west window. I plan to set that cowboy table next to it, then the armoire just about in the corner.

The southern wall will hold the black desk, the computer one, and I hope to get the Stefania bookcase next to the entrance to the bathroom.

I couldn't be doing all that, though, not while waiting for the Dish people to arrive, but they got here just after noon and a couple hours later they were gone and the TV was working.

So, there's that.

While they were here, “Mike” showed up.

He used to own this place, or his sister did, or something like that, but he lives next door (the brown place) and had a couple pieces of information. He let me know a little about the neighbors but, most importantly, let me know that when he tried to get a building permit for his garage he was pretty much told to never mind. There's no longer anyone checking on permits, not here, anyway, and the county can't be bothered any more with us desert residents.

That may or may not be a temporary thing because of the county's financial state, but he said something about anything being five feet from the structure being ignored.

Hmmm...

Also, and this just goes to show how little I investigated this place before moving in, as it turns out that through the wall air conditioner is also a heater! Mike mentioned that, and I just checked and he's right: it has settings for heat, cool, and just fan.

I found some more kitchen boxes, but that tiny kitchen is a bit daunting. Sure, there are nine cupboards waiting to be filled, but I've yet to figure out what I want to go where. The cupboards may be numerous, but they're also tiny and, like everything else, I have lots of kitchen stuff.

I pretty much took the day, yeah.

Minardi barked when I left for the store, and I've been trying all day to give him lots of attention and make sure he knows he's still part of a pack. True, the pack is only he and I, but I think he misses Mika, Cheryl, and the life he's known up to now. Fortunately or not, he's getting up there and the thought of burying him disturbs me, but most of the day he spends napping, which I hope gives him some relief from any anxiety he might be feeling.

The Dish installers gave him a cookie, which he was reluctant to take at first, even from me, but he took the second one and the girls weren't worried about him or unhappy with his presence at all.

That was another thing I thought about, but I don't think it rose to the level of worry. I just figured I'd put him inside while they were outside and vice-versa, but there was no need.

After they left, I gave up on doing just about everything (Hey! It was hot!), and ended up spending some time learning about the workings of the Dish network. No, not particularly productive, but it had to be done.

Some food, though, did make it into the cupboard, mostly the stuff I'd packed for Rachael's apartment, leftover candy and more ramen.

As far as getting unpacked and moved in goes, I'm willing to give the books and computer games a pass, at least for the time being. Most of the “misc” or decorative shit can also wait. I think my focus should be kitchen, clothing, and furniture arrangement. And, by furniture arrangement, I don't think I mean any more or less than putting bookcases, shelves, and desks somewhere.

Dad's desk is outside, slated for patio furniture. Well, it would be nice to sit out there and use it with a laptop or something. The cowboy desk may end up being my desk for official crap, and maybe those kind of things will sit on its surface. The black desk will stay as the computer desk, and I plan to put it in place tomorrow.

Minardi is troubling me as much as anything else. I want to get him a big bag of cookies, but I don't know how to do that. I could hop in the Jeep and go to a supermarket, something I'd like to do for me, too, but what about him? If I leave him here, he'll get upset. If I take him with me, I'll have to tie him up outside the store, and I'm not sure he'll like that, either.

Yep. This desert living is new for both of us.

For the record, Minardi and I arrived home, at our place in the desert, about a quarter to eight at night. The few things we brought with us in the Jeep were all removed and we were inside, snug and possibly warm, a minute or two after eight.

What we brought with us are as follows:

Seventy-two packages of Crying Tiger Beef flavored ramen

Three bottles Louisiana Garlic Hot Sauce

Two bottles Dark Soy Sauce

Bread, bagels, some Genoa salami, and Polish sausages

One cactus

One Yucca sapling

Minardi is lying on the floor near the door and a moth just brushed my leg.

Because my glass bowls could be most anywhere, I'm borrowing Minardi's new Butterfinger water bowl for my ramen. To be fair, though, “just about anywhere” describes well over 95% of all the things I own. This, now, is my life.

Mik is back at Rachael's apartment, awaiting my sister's return tomorrow. Minardi has moved to the bed and has learned that the best thing to do in the Jeep is lay down and sleep. Maybe that's because it was night and his window was zippered shut.

In any case, in a very real sense, my new life officially begins now, at 8:00 PST, Sunday, November fourth, 2012. This is when I'm here, all my stuff is here, and this is when and where my new life starts.

Yes, other than a dozen or so things, everything is in boxes and by far nearly all the boxes are outside, sitting on the dirt. But, it's all here, no more moving, but if I'm to be honest, I expect that I will be lifting, moving, and touching everything I own about five times before it's all put away.

Tomorrow I should, if I decide to do it, move that armoire inside, especially if it will fit between the corner and the air conditioner.

I need to exercise my female side, the decorating and arranging side, and figure out how to lay out this small home. It's like The Sims, but that may be the same thing as exercising my female side. It would be easier if I didn't need to use up floorspace for a place to sleep.

Anyway, not doing anything tonight. It's 8:45, or nearly ten in the old money. It may be good, it may be bad to have moved when we changed from Daylight Savings Time to regular, but as they say in the twenty-tens, it is what it is.

It's been official since Oct 31 when escrow closed, but if memory serves I didn't actually get the key and visit “my” property until Thursday, Nov 1. I took the dogs up here for a quick visit and to drop off a few things that I felt I might need.

Those things being firewood, an electric lantern, a hatchet, a metal cookie cooling rack to serve as a grill, the Jeep's rear seat (which was taking up room I felt I might need), and a tiny cooking burner and can of fuel.

As it turned out, I didn't need any of those things because, thankfully!, the water, gas, and electricity were left on and working.

Tomorrow, Monday, November 5^th, electricity and water are being transferred into my name, but I don't remember if I talked to the local gas supplier or not. There's a tank on the property, but it looks like it's near empty.

This morning, the fourth, at nine in the morning I got the last of the things out of the u-haul truck. By ten, I had the truck swept clean and out on the street, ready for the drive back to Murrieta. I need to drop Mika, my sister's pug, off so he can greet and be with Cheryl when she comes home from the hospital tomorrow, a day when I need to be here to oversee (hah!) the utilities and, most importantly, the Dish installation.

Internet access will come later, within a day or two (I hope!)

Yesterday was an adventure in moving, but not anywhere near as bad as it could have been. I walked down to the U-Haul place from Rachael's apartment, and that journey took the half hour I allotted for it. Getting the truck (and buying a hand truck) went smoothly, but it took a little longer than I figured to load up the last of the things from Rachael's. It all made it in and I was at the storage place right on time, just in time to get Barry's phone call. I'd  hired him and a buddy to load the truck because they were veterans and cheap.

He and his helper, Phillip, got everything out of the storage place and into the truck in the two hours I hired them for. For a little while it looked as if there would be time and room to load the love seat from Rachael's apt, but there ended up being neither. I tipped each guy $20, which may be more, less, or about what other people give them.

Two things happened on the drive from Murrieta to Landers. One, I found out that this 27' (the $39.95 model) gets horrible gas mileage. I got worried after driving through Hemet that I would run out of gas, especially since I was climbing up the hill on my way to Beaumont. I was able to make it, though, but had my first truck incident driving over the curb and rattling the stuff in the back on my way to the gas pump.

Then, I kinda screwed up and maybe didn't select debit to pay for the gas, which might have cost me more. For some reason, the gas stopped pumping at a little over $100, so I had to stop and get some more at my favorite little cheap gas station just outside Yucca Valley, somewhere around that Travel Lodge where I first got directions to Old Woman Springs Rd.

There I clipped a trailer belonging to some Mexican guys, who took $100 to make things right.

It got, sorta expectedly, a little hairy making the left onto Old Woman Springs Rd, and I yelled at Minardi more than was necessary. He was blocking my view of the passenger rear view mirror, but that had nothing to do with my driving over another curve or making everything in the back of the truck rattle, again, when I did the U-turn necessary to make it onto 247.

But, we got here, all in one piece.

After the mild excitement of loading up my stuff from Rachael's, using my sister's little truck, Buffy, to transport it all from the apartment to the U-Haul, which I parked on the street and doing my best to protect the TV, we got here and I guess I started unloading the truck around 3:30PM.

At first I was attentive and putting stuff, roughly, where I thought it would end up living and mildly putting it away. This first stuff was mostly the miscellaneous crap that wasn't in boxes.

By around five, I started worrying about it getting dark and running out of time and energy, and was at the start of the boxes. These I just pulled out of the truck and started setting outside, by the side of the house. I was past caring, and the home is way too small to hold more than one-tenth of the stuff I brought with me.

By eight or so, I had gotten most of the boxes out and sitting on the ground and was down to the “major” pieces.

I unfurled the futon Rachael lent me (which I will try to purchase from her) on top of some foam rubber, and was delighted to discover that Minardi, who never slept with me at the apartment, curled right up the way he sometimes did on Ramsgate, right up next to my chest.

I was overjoyed.

It didn't last, though, since I got up a short time later to take a shower, forgetting that the soap and things were places unknown, but I did chance upon a towel.

Refreshed, sorta, from the shower, I laid down and had a great night's sleep (for me). I slept about four hours before waking up and noticed that Minardi had moved to the duffle bag full of clothes from Rachael's that was at my head.

I fell back asleep and got up around 6:30, thanks to Daylight Savings Time.

By nine I had the truck emptied, and by ten it was swept, sitting out on the street waiting to take us back to Murrieta, and I was all done with that part of the adventure.

Before moving the first of the big things, the armoire, I had my first meal in my new home, a box of Thai Basil & Chili, which may have come from Trader Joe's. I boiled some water, twice, in the aluminum pan usually used for popcorn, since the microwave was still in truck. The meal was okay, but I couldn't taste much and even though I hadn't eaten anything yesterday when I did the moving, I didn't have much appetite.

I was getting a little light-headed, though, which I blamed on the lack of nutrition, and wished I had some raw eggs to eat.

Once the truck was empty and swept out, I sat down.

Now it's a bit before noon and the next step is driving back to Murrieta to drop off Mik. I might leave the dogs at the apartment to run to the 99cent store for some eggs or to Stater Bros for some groceries. I really don't have much of an appetite, but I haven't since leaving Ramsgate.

One thing I'd like is a window screen kit for the window overlooking the dining area. The other windows have screens, and I'd really like one for the front door, too.

No, there aren't flies or bees or wasps flying around and getting in, not yet, anyway, but some moths were drawn to the outside light last night and managed to make it inside. I wish there was a way, one that I knew of, to turn that outside light on or off.

I also wish I knew where the septic tank was. I'm a little afraid I've covered it with all the junk outside, but I have no idea how full it is, where it is, where the access to it is, or where the draining field is. Sharon Rose, my realtor, gave me the name of a plumbing company that can help, but I'm strangely reluctant to spend any more money right now finding out. I may see if there's a permit for it at the San Bernadino gov't office, but I have no idea when I'd get around to doing that.

One tiny victory: outside the water heater there's a spigot with a rubber hose attached to it. It was dripping water, but after turning it on and as tightly off as I could, that's all but stopped.

Before heading back to Murrieta, I checked my property to see where Minardi had found to take a dump. Mik's spot was on the east side of the house, but no sign of Minardi going anywhere. Maybe he'll need time to settle in.