Skeeved

So the ants, they have a nest, right up there behind the beam that supports the kitchen/ TV room ceiling. And I find myself staring up there frequently, wondering about their sweaty little ant bodies all crawling around in there, feeding themselves, lugging their larvae back and forth, chewing out more and more of the beam that supports this part of the house, which is rotten already, which is why the ants are there. Even though the ants are there and I am here and I am not, in general, a person who gets skeevy in the face of arthropods, over and over again I feel like I am in the nest, and that there are ants in my armpits, in my nostrils, in my hair, and I am skeeved.

Yesterday we had an exterminator come out and put little shots of poison into the nest, along with lines of poison along their preferred pathways, so that pretty soon we are going to have a nest up in the drywall above our kitchen, but it is going to be filled with dead ants. And also poison.

This is not much better.

Half of our house smells like ripe, fungus-rich rotten wood, like we have a decaying tree in our living room. Actually, we DO have a decaying tree in our living room. It just happens to have been milled, and set into cross supports, and be holding up our roof. I keep imagining the layer of the ceiling/roof between the drywall (which looks fine, more or less) and the spiffy new shingles, which look very fine, and what I imagine is this: old rotted-through barn floors. Mining cabins where the walls are sinking into the ground. Wood that is turning into compost.

Basically, the roof over half our house is made of compost.

There is another dimension to this, of course. The money dimension. I'm finding it easier not to think about that at all. My husband can't sleep at night, and all day he stomps around the house saying things like, "Smell that? Do you smell that smell? I think it's strongest in here" and "This is going to use up all our equity" and "I can't believe what SHITS those people were" and "I feel trapped."

In response, I put my fingers in my ears and think "LA LA LA LA."

And then I think about the ants.

Friday Favorites

Home again, and raining. I did my run in the rain this morning, and while sometimes this is my favorite kind of run, this morning it was not. I did like getting out, though, and I still get unreasonably excited when the creekwaters rise. And they're rising.

Well, my Friday Favorites this morning are kind of predictable: my favorite things about coming home.

1. Getting to see Hubs and the kids. Both kids were being especially sweet this morning, particularly given the conditions of rain and sleepiness. Silas actually went to say goodbye to Hubs without being prompted by me. AND he said, "Have a good day, Mom!" as he left the house. To wait at the bus stop. In the rain. He probably qualifies for some kind of 3rd grade medal.

2. Getting to check on the flowering/ sprouting status of plants in the yard. This is bar none my favorite activity this time of year, and I build up a craving after a few days away. I planted carrots and peas on Sunday, but they're not up yet (it would be a wee bit unusual for them to sprout this fast, but I'm always hopeful).

3. Getting to see the dog. She actually crawled under the covers with us last night, which she hasn't done for YEARS--I wonder if the rain bothers her? Or maybe she could hear very very distant thunder? Or maybe she missed me?

4. Getting to eat exactly what I like for breakfast.

5. Getting back to a routine. No matter how much I enjoy being away, whether for work or on vacation, there's always this nagging feeling of things being off-kilter. Now things are on kilter again, except for looming house repairs/ renovations.

Worst thing about coming back: all the same old problems in the house are STILL HERE. Ugh. Ants. We have ANTS. In the roof, along with also apparently fungus/ rot, which is what they eat. We're still sort of assessing slash dithering on this. GOD. Sometimes I imagine running into the people who lived here before us and asking them if they actually did one single thing in the house NOT the cheapest crappiest way. (The roof is NEW. NEW ROOF AND IT WAS PUT ON OVER ROT.)

And then I share a little laugh with myself because seriously, that's so not my style. I'd probably just smile and tell them OH WE LOVE THE HOUSE. AND EVERY SINGLE DOLLAR WE ARE SINKING INTO IT LIKE SOME VAST TAR PIT OF MONEY.