Drama (again) where there need be none....

So, we're getting replacement windows for the windows Gustav didn't destroy (those have been nicely replaced). :) Seven windows in all need replacing. Only seven. Shouldn't be a big undertaking, huh? Au contraire. When hubby decides to spend money....let me rephrase that....if hubby decides to spend money he agonizes over e-v-e-r-y last cent. Not a bad thing, you say? Under ordinary circumstances, it wouldn't be, but....let me tell ya. Not much with J is ever under ordinary circumstances. That's why we spent over five hours last weekend talking to replacement window salesmen. I figure for an ordinary person, the task would have required no more than 2 or 2 1/2 hours, max.

First. Friday evening a cutie pie of Lebanese descent, the first salesman came knocking. Close to two hours later, he left. He (and J) talked so much that sales dude rushed through his spiel at the end because he wanted to get home and rewarm his lasagna. I thought two hours was way too long but consoled myself with the fact that the worst must be over. The sales dude scheduled for the next morning couldn't be that bad. Couldn't be. HA!

Saturday dawns. Eleven o'clock rolls around. Knock! Knock! at the door. And....over three hours later, he leaves. Sheesh! For whatever reason, by the time the last guy left I felt as if I'd been through the wringer. I went straight to the hard stuff and had a good stiff (for me) drink. Didn't even think about the wine. A good catfish dinner lifted my spirits temporarily, but it's been almost a week and I'm still not over last weekend.

I think part of my reaction was because I was reminded of last year's rebuilding on the house. And, the last guy is a Katrina survivor -- at least he's trying to keep on surviving. He and his wife lived in St. Bernard parish and they lost everything. He started talking and just didn't/couldn't stop. From time to time he'd say how he knew he was going on and on, but that it was nice having someone to talk to. His wife is just out of the hospital (for the second time) and still pretty much sedated. He says she tells him that he's her rock. He's trying but he's having a rough time of it. If you ever feel down and out, give me a holler. I'll start tossing out details from this guy's life and I bet you a diet Dr. Pepper you'll soon be feeling better. I think that was a big part of what did me in. There is so little you can do.

But. We still don't have anyone set to replace these windows and the heat's building day by day. I may just pack up and mosey on out of here for a while -- maybe until hurricane season's over. Any suggestions?

Testing, testing, testing....

A quick test to see if my newly installed (or newly found) Phone Tools works. If so, you'll be able to see my (soon-to-be) cayenne peppers and tomatoes.

There is a price to pay for a view worth having....

(Alternate title: The problem with a room full of windows)

Today started well. Up early and busy with mundane stuff that took way too much time and tired me out, but needed doing -- and felt good having it done. Then, I decided I had earned a rest....and a glass of wine to sip while spending time with my Kindle. So, glass of wine in hand, I settled in a chair in front of all the new windows and turned on my Kindle. As I reached for my glass I glanced at the lake and....there was a boat with two fishermen floating by. They waved. I waved back (trying to recall exactly what prior motions of mine they'd been privy to). It's a breezy, cool(ish) day, so the open windows offered a clear view into the room.

They floated on by (finally), and I returned to my book (and my wine), and then, not too long afterwards, I started hearing male voices faintly in the background. I convinced myself that the sounds were coming from the New Age music channel I had playing on the tv. But....it wasn't. It was my neighbor and the AT&T repairman traipsing through my backyard. Actually, they were kind of slinking along the fence dividing our yards looking for the phone line or box or something. We notice each other about the same time. They wave. I wave. Neighbor comes to the windows to tell me he likes the patio. By then, I can't concentrate on reading so I try to sneak ease into another room. Movement must catch repairman's eye and he waves (or smiles) a couple more times before I can make my escape.

By then I start to realize that living in this house is like living in a fishbowl. Truly. That fact will go a ways in consoling me this summer when the shades are lowered on the windows to (try to) keep the sun out.

A nice view comes with a price. ....Trust me on this one.