This was my grandmother’s mantle clock. It’s older than me.
I have had it since she moved into a nursing home30 years ago. It hasn’t worked since I got it. But, I kept it anyway. And part of the not-working was not winding. Because it hadn’t been working.
Chuck tried winding it as we were packing things up and it still didn’t work.
So, yesterday I put it up in one of the cubbies in the bookshelf/wine rack/everything wall as an ornament.
It has kind of started working. It’s ticking. And it strikes on the hour and half hour. But, the strikes don’t match the time. I”m thinking about messing with it to see if I can get it regulated.
I have no clue what made it like the mountains better than the piedmont.
After having it as background noise in our minds and conversations for about 6 years, we have finally pulled the trigger and are moving from this huge yard. We would have kept the house, if we could, but the yard is just too much.
There are other considerations, too. But, that’s the main one right now.
We are moving to Asheville where we will be near the largest collection of my family (my mother, her brother and his wife, my youngest sister and her husband, her oldest son and his SO, a cousin, her husband, her youngest daughter, her husband and baby). My spawn is going to be about 30 minutes farther away than they are now. So, that isn’t a big change. Just the direction of the drive.
We found a condo we really like, made an offer, negotiated briefly and have it under contract in less than 3 weeks since deciding to move. Our house will be listed on the market today.
We’ll have a tiny little patch of ground that I think I can plant a little something in by the front door and a covered deck in the back.
There is an arboretum and a botanical garden where I can volunteer, if I choose to. And my sister has offered her yard to me. So, I don’t have to be without dirt under my nails. I’m considering doing the Master Gardener training, again, to learn how to grow things better in the mountains. I’ll talk to the Buncombe County agent about it when we are actually there and situated.
I spend a ridiculous amount of time pondering what plants I want to move. The furniture is much easier to decide.
When I was married to my second husband, we went to a big antique and general junk festival. Spawn found an old, worn out, plastic guitar that had 4 of the 6 strings still attached. It was a buck. I rolled my eyes and bought it for them.
Some time later, they were playing with it and wouldn’t go to bed. I took it away and, in putting it down too fiercely for old, worn out plastic, shattered it. They were devastated. I groveled in apology. I did not intend to break it. I didn’t realize it was so fragile.
I have felt like a shit mom about that ever since.
About a decade later, they started playing in earnest. There was some school band with piano, trumpet and coronet in there between those events. Enough to learn to read music.
Every 5 years, the company I worked for gave me a present via a catalogue that I got to pick from. I have received a glass vase (5), a double strand pearl bracelet (10), a leather carry on (15), rings (20, 25, 30) and a Solo Stove (35) (that I gave to my sister. because there was nothing in the catalogue that appealed to me).
Last week, I got the catalogue to pick out a retirement gift.
Spawn got an acoustic Fender.
They remembered the event with the little plastic guitar and said this has definitely made up for it.
We are all too old and particular to need or want other people to do our shopping. But, Xmas still kind of demands some kind of gift exchange. We can’t help ourselves. It’s pretty hilarious when a bunch of adults are trying to sneak around and put things in multiple stockings without being seen.
Our other way of gift giving has become playing Dirty Santa. After an unfortunate round with his own family, my BIL has instituted a one-steal-only rule and, with 12 or 13 participants, it keeps us from going into the next day.
If you don’t know the game, here are the rules:
Everyone brings a single gift that should be fun for at least one (preferably more) other member of the group. Not something like “Sis wants this particular pair of earrings”. More like “I really love this book and I think at least 3 of my family might like to read it.”
We set a maximum price at $50. It doesn’t have to be that much. But, that’s to keep stuff from getting out of hand and anyone from feeling stressed about extravagant expectations. A $5 joke gift that cracks us all up is perfectly acceptable.
All gifts are wrapped with no name on the label.
Gifts go in a big pile.
Everyone draws a number.
Person 1 picks a gift and opens it. Everyone expresses delight or makes a joke or whatever.
Person 2 either picks a gift or takes the gift Person 1 has already unwrapped and Person 1 opens another package. In my family, if their first gift was taken, Person 1 is now safe from stealing.
Person 3 either picks an unopened gift or takes a previously opened gift and that person opens another package.
Continue until everything is unwrapped.
You only have to give up a gift once. If your first gift is taken, your second gift is safe.
A single gift may be taken by multiple people. But, no one ends up being the solitary unwrapper. At most, some of us open 2 gifts. And some of us never actually open one. But, those people knew what we were choosing.
One year, an excellent travel bag and a bottle of bourbon were each “stolen” 3 or 4 times.
This year, my sister has requested that those of us who are creative contribute something we’ve made. So, Chuck is bringing a framed photo. My BIL, who is a woodworker, is making something (probably a mirror in a frame of especially lovely wood). I think my nephew’s GF is knitting something. I was given a significant look when I was seen crocheting an infinity scarf for a friend and made to know that I am included in that group.
I found some unplyed felted Peruvian merino wool yarn at the the Hillsborough Yarn Store that’s gorgeous and cost me $25. But, there was only 1 skein in that particular color combinaton and I have never worked with this stuff before. Even if there had been a second skein, I have no clue how to join them gracefully.
There’s not enough for an infinity scarf. And my count was off a couple of times so it became a trapezoid. I thought a cowl might work. But, the pattern that I tried flipped both times I started it, turning into a Möbius strip. I think I’ve ripped it and started over 7 times.
I finally made a muffler that will cross their chest and go down into their coat. It won’t wrap around their neck without a pin to hold it.
My BIL was asking his wife about price vs value and talking about how much more expensive his gift would be than $50 if you count his time, etc. He was mostly bitching about having a limit on generosity. But, if he brings it up on Xmas day, I’m going to tell him that’s a $600 dollar muffler and he needs to shut up.
When Chuck first started sharing his work, he made zines. He gave them / sent them, free of charge, to anyone he knew that was interested in having them. After he had done several, a friend suggested that he get a space at a zinefest at The Fruit in Durham. So, he did.
We tend to share access to stuff. Like, he uses my phone number to get the discounts at groceries. And we both use the same login to Duke Power and our credit union.
When it was time to pay for his table, they were taking PayPal for the fee and I am the one with a PayPal account. I hate PayPal. When I had occasion to change my name, they thought they should be given copies of paperwork that I thought (and still think) isn’t their business. If I want to call myself Murgatroyd von Pussylips, it is not their business to get documentation as long as the info connected to the bank is valid. And I wanted to change my usename. Nothing else. I did not think it was their business to see my marriage license to justify changing that.
So, I try not to use them. I don’t want to give them money.
BUT, I still have that account and Chuck needed to send money. So, it was used.
When it was time to load in, it took a few minutes to locate. Because, in spite of the form he filled out to register the space, this was what we finally found.
