Hemlock B Bootsalotta

Got my orthotics today. My foot still hurts. This is taking too long to sort itself out and I wish to register a complaint.

***

Lord Brock has figured out what time steroid dosing happens and has started reminding me about it because he knows he'll get treats immediately after. He still hates getting medicated, but he hates it so much less than the gabapentin (I think it tasted worse) that he will almost barely tolerate it and then happily snarffle up the treats once the dosing part is done with.

***

Roof repairs unlocked. Dude also does the kind of work needed for the stairs so he's going to give me a quote for that as well. AND he thinks he can work with his plumber to drop the sump pump into the floor properly so it takes up less space and won't leave an open water feature in the room. He send me some links with examples of what he wants to do, and honestly it would be a huge improvement.

***

Project raccoon did NOT go as originally planned. Original contractor had said that the stairs would just flip up so I could clean underneath them. No, not so much.

The problem is that the wooden stairs are basically a triangle set in a sunken concrete hole. The back/top of the stairs is supported by a piece of wood in the shape of a T. To get under them you have to pull the whole thing towards the interior door to make room behind the triangle to flip it up on it's back. Only the T isn't solid enough, when I tried it the bottom of the wood stayed in the same spot while the top cracked and splintered. I was able to climb to the top and kind of kick the T forward but not far enough to make room to flip it. So I could stand there and hold the stairs up, because they're not heavy, but I couldn't get under it at the same time.

Yesterday and today daughter came over to work on the yard, and this afternoon the ex-housemate & their wife dropped by to pick up some government forms that had been delivered to the house. So the four of us picked up the stairs bodily and moved them out of the staircase. The ex-housemate has anosmia, so they volunteered to shovel up the very very decayed raccoon. Garbage day isn't for another two weeks so we just dumped him out by the railroad tracks and covered him with dirt. And then shovelled up the accumulated mud and vermin that had collected under the stairs and dropped it in the same spot.

It was so gross, y'all. So gross. But it's out of my basement doorway now and it's in a spot where it will be unlikely to bother anybody except the occasional passing coyote.

The daughter and I spent the next three hours digging the drainage pit. I found the sand layer I was hoping for, and then underneath that (about four feet down) is a layer of a broken shist which I think will work even better. We have probably about 80% of the trench dug out - one more day should be enough to finish if off. Then I'll line it with cinderblocks and start filling it in with rocks. The trench is probably four times as big as I'll need to be in any normal year, but since 100-year storms are coming every 10 years now (and probably every 2 by the time I ever leave this house) it seems like a good investment of labour.

Entertainment was provided by a juvenile robin that realized all that turned earth was a worm goldmine and got increasingly braver about getting close enough to us to grab them as the day progressed.

Then we ate our own weight in pizza.

Needless to say, every part of me hurts after two days of digging, so I'm taking tomorrow off doing any more building/fixing things. Chores only. And I might check with the local massage clinic to see if they have a free spot because I know I'm going to feel like somebody worked me over with my own shovel.

CAT!

Lord Brock is now on prednisone. (I remember the name because it's the same steroid my sister was treated with when doctors first diagnosed her auto-immune disorder.) Two days later he was eating his weight in chicken and four days later he is following me around the house and yelling at me like nothing happened. Complete turn-around. Fingers crossed this is the magic bullet.

HOUSE!

Inching along. Work on getting the walls and doors fixed was delayed by days of rain, but dude promised he'd be here first thing tomorrow morning. Haven't heard from roof guy, probably for the same reasons. I have started calling around for quotes to get the stairs built from the kitchen.

ME!

I have shit feet. They hurt pretty much all the time, but lately they've been extra special painful. So off I hobbled to a podiatrist, who immediately told me I have plantar fasciitis. This is a Latin phrase that roughly translates to "shit feet".

I can't even blame age for this one.

He gave me stretches, a prescription that has to be compounded, and an order to stay off my feet. So far I have managed one of those three things. Eventually I will manage to find a compounding pharmacy in this city that is open more than two hours a week, but not walking is going to be harder.

Hopefully my insurance will pay for orthotics. But I draw a hard line at Birkenstocks.

It's a warm today and I am itchy and sweaty. I have spent two days in the shed, pulling out boxes and cleaning up spider webs and mouse poop. SO MUCH MOUSE POOP. And one dead mouse.

I'm taking a break right now. when I go back outside I'll stack the things that I know are staying out there onto the shelves and finish taking the rest of it into the house. Then I'll finish going through the boxes. This is the last place in the house to be cleaned out and I've already found the paining supplies box, so I'll make a list of whatever I'm missing and tomorrow I'll hit the hardware store. I'll also be able to make the final get-things-out-of-the-house push so maybe that will make some room to empty the storage unit. We'll see.

While I'm working I'm also taking pictures of all the stuff the contractor didn't finish. I keep noticing new things, like spotting a new light switch leading me to a light fixture that was never installed. I should also take screenshots of the text messages where I repeatedly asked for receipts I never got.

Everything is taking too long. I keep offering to give money to people for help and they keep not showing up. Which in itself is frustrating. Like if you're not available, fine! But tell me so I can make other plans!

Lord Brock is doing well except for shouting at me whenever I come back from outside because how dare I not be in the room when he decides he wants to sit on me.

I should probably book a massage on the last day of the week. I already feel like somebody beat me up and it's only Tuesday.

Right. Back to the salt mines.

Lord Brock has been checked into the hospital for the night. The vet wants to give him fluids, and given his heart murmur that is apparently a risky treatment so they are doing it gradually and under observation.

He stopped eating again and giving him the meds I came home with last time only got a few small nibbles into him. All he wanted to do was sleep, which is pretty much what I want to do when I'm not feeling well.

This will cost me approximately three million dollars. I'm trying not think about that part. That's why credit cards were invented right?

After I dropped him off I figured maybe I could salvage some usefulness out of the day, so I started walking towards the storage unit to grab a couple of things. About an hour into the walk I got really light-headed and clammy and I started to panic. Was something wrong with me as well, did I catch something and give it to the cat, cat's can catch covid, what have I done...

And then I realized that I had been so worried about being ready to leave the house the second I got the callback from the vet - I forgot to eat all day.

Caught the bus home, shoved some food in my face, I am fine. Just a dumbass.

I was told to expect a callback with an update when the night shift finishes. At 7 AM on a Saturday. Ugh. For somebody who didn't get much useful done all day I'm still friggin' exhausted, so just as well I'll want to go to bed early tonight.

It snowed today. It's supposed to be 19 tomorrow. WTF Toronto, go home you're drunk.

The new hot water tank was installed yesterday. It's very shiny and not rusty. More importantly, I was able to take a shower where the water stayed hot right up until the very end. Luxury!

I had a moment of concern when I asked the installers where they had put the old tank. "Oh it's gone to the scrapyard." Uh, it was a rental? And they might want it back? But I called the company that owned it and when they realized how old it was they went yeah, fair enough. So that's sorted.

Ex-housemate was in town for a couple of days dealing with medical stuff, so they came by today. They took away as much of their stuff as would fit in a backpack. They also dropped off a switch that lets me run multiple computers through a single monitor/keyboard/mouse setup, so that means I can pack away the jury-rigged setup I had on my desk for switching between my work and personal systems AND I can now use the unneeded peripherals to more comfortably set up streaming to my television. This is all somewhat self-indulgent compared to the rest of the work that needs to be done in the house, but I had a folding table set up behind my chair so I could switch back and forth between the computer that has all my receipts and the old Windows box that was the only one that could read my old tax forms so I could make sure everything was filed correctly and now I don't have to do that.

Now that I think about it, that also means I can play games again if I want to! I might make another attempt at WoW - the one time I tried I bounced off the racism pretty hard, but if I can find a start point that has slightly less of that maybe I can get to a level where some of friends are playing. (Insert your faction / server / guild recommendations here.)

The venerable Lord Brock was so happy to see the ex-housemate that he howled like an air-raid siren for an hour straight. I am convinced that cat is broken.

I usually set my alarm a little later on Sundays because nobody else is at work so I can take my time on tasks. It's still the most productive day of my week just because I'm never interrupted.

Lord Brock starts shouting before my alarm goes off because he wants his breakfast. Then he stands outside the bathroom door and shouts at me while I pee and wash my face because I'm taking too long. He stands at the top of the stairs and continues to shout while I throw my medications down my neck and put on pants.

Once in the kitchen I turn on the coffee while he shouts at me that I'm taking too long. I make his breakfast. If I'm lucky I make it all the way back into the kitchen before he starts shouting that his water is stale, where is his fresh water, dammit?

If I'm fast I can get my coffee into the cup before he's done eating. If I have to unload the dishwasher like I did today he's already upstairs by the time I'm finished and shouting down the stairs for me to hurry up.

Once I'm seated in my office chair I start powering up computers and monitors. He sits at my feet and shouts at me and tugs on my pant leg with a single claw. Finally I pick him up and plop him on my lap. He immediately starts purring at the top of his lungs and shoving his head under my hands.

It's a tough life. Send help.

--

Finished a chapter last night while listening to maerchen1313.

Day 9 Tally:
china_shop

Day 8 Tally:
badly_knitted luzula sylvanwitch nafs trobadora brithistorian cornerofmadness china_shop carenejeans

( previous days )

Let me know if I missed you and you can jump in any time.

The Bad: His Lordship, Lord Brock of the Brockton Brocks, has been feeling poorly. He stopped eating for a few days, which is apparently really bad for cats - their organs can just shut down. A visit to the vet found him underweight and dehydrated. They gave him an anti-nausea shot and an appetite stimulant and I have been monitoring his intake (and his outgo) like a hawk watching a rabbit warren for the past week.

He had another exam today and he appears to be mostly out of the woods, but I did go home with some more meds to give him over the weekend if anything goes south.

(I will not tell you the stuff I learned at the vet today about anal glands because what the hell, nature?)

Anyway. This meant cancelling on the nephew I was going to help move today, because there is no way I'm leaving town for a whole day until I'm sure he's stable.

***

The Good: There were two contractors involved in the building of my kitchen, the guy who built the frame and the guy who did the interior. I got to watch them have a full-on meltdown at each other over who's fault the frozen pipes are. Wednesday the interior guy came by and moved the pipes and insulated them so in theory this problem should now be solved. Fingers crossed. I haven't had a problem since, but also it hasn't gotten below -5 C yet this week.

Basement guy is now saying he'll be done on Tuesday. ! Could it be true!?

I expect I'll have to do some additional trim and repairs down there. (And painting) But the idea that this could actually be fucking over soon? Be still my tremulous heart!

Next house goal: get a new boiler. Right now I can a) take a shower b) run the dishwasher OR c) do laundry, but I cannot do two of the above on the same day. I might spring for one of those tankless ones, I have to do some research first.

***

The Ugly: I have almost no teeth left in the back lower jaw. If I could speak to my 12 year-old self, one of the things I would stress is to stay on top of the teeth during those few years I would have insurance and DO NOT go to the very nice lady that your dad recommends, because being a completely painless dentist was apparently not as good a thing as everybody thought at the time. My current dentist is a semi-retired Egyptian woman who makes me cry on the regular, but she was able to extend the life of most of my teeth far past the point where I thought I was going to lose them all.

Aside: Teeth not being covered by provincial health insurance is a crime against humanity.

Anyway., So now I have this bridge thing that I'm supposed to wear every day, at the absolute minimum whenever I eat. I hate it. It's uncomfortable and I don't like having things in my mouth. The thing is, I could same the same about my bite guard (I clench my jaw really hard in my sleep) and that I wear every night. But this thing - I can never remember. It's like a mental block, every single day I eat dinner and as soon as I'm standing up to get rid of my plate I think Oh I forgot that bridge thing, I need to remember to put it in tomorrow. Every day. Every. Day. For the past three months.

What the fuck, brain?

***

All Of The Above: I got my election bribe money today. I immediately donated it to one of the other parties.

Whenever I have to take a pet to the vet, I get just a tiny glimpse into what it must be like to be an American.

(Currently climbing over $1000 for a check up, vaccines & various blood tests.)

In my Normal Life, I try to exercise every day. This is so not my normal life. On the other hand, I have been hauling boxes and furniture almost every single day for weeks now, so I'm going to count that as close enough.

Dr River Song continues to leave poop bombs. I am resigned.

Old Man's apartment is entirely packed and I have a van rented to move everything on Saturday. It's going to be at least one trip to the LTC and at least two to the storage locker. Sister and brother-in-law are helping and I have a dolly so it should all be fairly painless except for the driving part. Nothing about Toronto driving is painless.

The bank confirmed that everything on their side is done so IF NOTHING ELSE GOES WRONG KNOCKS ON ALL THE TREES MAKES A SALT RING AROUND THE HOUSE BURNS CEDAR AND SAGE the sale closes on the 18th. Ten days from now. Housemate probably won't be able to move all their stuff right away because they don't have their immigration status yet, but they have a storage locker and I have a copy of the key. We've been gradually moving stuff into it and we've put a few things out in the trash that are beyond rescue so progress has been gradually happening. Some stuff that they use on a daily basis, like their computer desk, will get moved out on the last day.

And I appear to have lost some furniture. Not in the house. Not in the storage locker. Very strange.

I gotta tell you, for somebody who hates cleaning as much as I do, I cannot fucking WAIT to scrub every inch of this fucking house. It is so so gross. That's going to be the first thing I start on when I have the place to myself.

10 more days.

Summer has hit Toronto like a giant soggy hammer. This is the first week I really wished I could run the air conditioner. But I have a couple of fans in my room so I cleaned the dust off them and they will just have to get me through the next three weeks. Also flying bug season, definitely not my favourite. Hopefully spiderweb season will shortly follow.

Meanwhile, today the housemate found out where the smell downstairs was coming from - they pulled out a box full of cassette tapes that had been stored behind a stack of furniture and the box fell apart in their hands - it was completely soaked through with cat piss. The whole lot went straight into the trash, so helpfully that will help the miasma somewhat.

You know, I feel bad for the cat that she's feeling neglected, but I don't think I'm going to miss her over much.

***

That tree that I was talking about before? The one that had to be in by June? That tree?

Still not in. Our arbourist vanished for over a week, no response to messages, just fell off the face of the earth. When he finally got back in touch it turned out he had buggered up his back and could no longer do the work. So now we are chasing around to find somebody else who can do it. The inspector could potentially show up any day, but if he does, he does. It's not like I can do anything about it.

***

Old Man is currently home and hopefully will stay there for a while. I fired the hospital program because they really weren't doing anything for him and the disruption to his normal routine was upsetting him so much it just wasn't worth it.

Our public transit system is in strike position on Friday, which is the day I normally visit him - fingers crossed they don't walk. I have a backup plan for getting there, but it will mean traffic will be hell.

***

The plus side of the potential strike is that it means I get out of the monthly office day. Our "home" office has been relocated to the downtown central building, so the postponement means I have time to dig through my clothes and see if I can find anything that still fits me. The downtown office is where all the people with C's at the front of their title hang out, so their version of business casual is a lot more business-y than the call centre that used to be my official address.

***

Still have 50 million things to do. I'm trying to chisel them off one at a time.