Spring

Here it is. There is sun and reasonably warm temperatures. The snow is sinking into the grass. Birds swoop and chatter. There is movement, finally, change, even if it isn't what I'd hoped for.

I moved in here a year ago. This morning I noticed the electrician made away with my house number. There is always something to attend to that is aggravating; however, I was warned. Home ownership isn't easy. Contractors are con artists, it seems. In talking about living together, E promised me that I'd never have to deal with contractors again. Amen.

Anyway, E is away. He's stuck in an airport is Las Vegas. He was supposed to be home today, but won't be. A is with her dad. I am feeling out of sorts and alone. This stems in part from an experience with a long standing though difficult friend. We went to see Black Swan last night. I had invited my friend to dinner before hand, but she canceled at the last minute. Then she showed up late to the movie and explained that the man she sometimes sleeps with had gone to her apartment to make her dinner and have "a nap." That explained a lot. After the movie, my friend, who invariably says inappropriate things, started talking about being A's godmother. Then she said, "Well, god forbid you should die." I am not a religious person, and if I was, my friend would not be my choice of godmother for my daughter. This friend can barely make rent. I was taken aback at her presumption. I was annoyed by her comment. I left her thinking I've been wrongheaded about a lot of things, and that friendship in particular.

As for other mistakes . . . I realize, having read The 10 Conversation You Must Have Before You Get Married (And How to Have Them) by Guy Grenier, that I should not move in with E this summer. I should take the next year to figure out what I want/need to do, to allow everyone time to settle into new routines, and to sketch out new ones, slowly, while talking and talking to E about kids, careers, money, sex, family, location, division of labour, leisure, spirituality and religion, and our own particular challenge of blending families when are children are still suffering the after effects of divorce.

This week A's schedule changes. She'll be spending just one weeknight with her father and two weekend nights. I will miss her and I'm not sure if I can be as productive with that time as I'd like to be. I have so much to plan and do that I'm afraid to begin. But I'll have to. I have to keep reminding myself to just walk through. Other people do.

Another setback

Two years ago, through a blind date and sheer good fortune, I landed a research contract with the government. Having that job enabled me to work from home, make my own hours, and have enough income to qualify for a mortgage. My series of 3-month contracts just came to an end. I can't say I'm surprised, as work was waning and I've been too intensely preoccupied with the vagaries of my life to consistently ask for more. This is just another ending that scares me.

E and I talked at length about this yesterday. He asked me in I wanted to move in with him this summer, so that I wouldn't be worried about money. I'm tempted. We were planning on next summer, when his daughter would be older and maybe want to take the basement room, when A would have adjusted to her 50/50 lifestyle, when his son felt more secure. Is it rushing everyone to start this summer? I'm not sure. Can I scrape by with teaching alone next year? Will anything else come up?

If I look back on roadblocks in my past, I can say that they led me to much more rewarding prospects, adventures, and opportunities. However, they didn't lead to the security I now crave. What would help me feel secure? A permanent job. The income to support whatever it is A or I wanted to do. The opportunity to feel like I was successful and contributing to something important. Is that asking too much of work? Of life?

Riding the black horse through a bleak land

When I was going through the worst of it, the summer just after my ex left, I attended Art in the Park and bought a small print of a girl riding bareback on a black horse through a stark winter landscape. The girl is dressed in a short sleeved green dress and is holding on tightly to the horse's neck. The little print resonated with me then and still does. Here I am, seemingly, at the end of the legal battle and I still feel like that girl. I received my final bill from my lawyer today. It was in the thousands of dollars. I wasn't expecting it to be quite that much. It has been an extremely expensive month. However, it could have been worse. That's what I'll console myself with.

E and I had a quick trip to Montreal yesterday, we ate out, hung around a Hotel pool, drank champagne to toast the end of my custody saga (I hope), and lazed about in the king-sized bed. He had a meeting this morning and I marked exams, watching people shiver in the cold on the snowy street below. We raced back after his morning meeting so that he could teach at 1:00 pm. I'm grateful for our getaways. They've kept me going through the last part of this ride.

Now, hopefully, I can start to slow down and look around and see where I want to go next.

Contractors

Since getting this house I have had to deal with a number of contractors. I have no skills in this area; any questions I have about my house seem to annoy them. This was particularly true of the electrician I was dealing with last week. As I mentioned, I returned after their first day in the house to find gaping holes around all my old outlets and fixtures. He hadn't warned me about this, then acted as though he had. I did not know what to do. I was in the middle of these intense custody negotiations and then found myself in the middle of a half-wired house full of holes. All of the patching and painting E and I had done last year would have to be redone, and I knew that neither of us could patch the plaster walls sufficiently. It increased the cost of this electrical upgrade significantly, as I was completely unprepared. My electrician and his sidekicks were unsympathetic. Certainly, they took no pride in their craftsmanship.

This guy is coming back to finish the job tomorrow. After a call to the Electrical Safety Authority today, I was told that the electrician, while registered, had not applied for a permit to do the work on my house. This is a problem, apparently my problem unless I report him. I can't handle this.

Yet, this is the house I got.

A couple of weeks ago at our first pre-maritial counselling session the counsellor turned to me and said, "This is the guy you got."

It's something like that.