Peanut butter crackers

Wow. I'm not going to make it here. That is the long and short of the entire living with parents story. To say I am stressed does not begin to define my mental state at this time. I could get into details, but it just doesn't matter. I simply can not stay here for two months. I do not know what to do. I really appreciate all the good thoughts everyone has thrown my way, but there is just no good thinking my way out of this situation.

My mother and I are complete and total opposites in so many ways of our personalities that we are incompatible to live together. To be fair to her, it is probably not easy for her to share her house, and because of how stressed I am feeling about being here I have been very on edge and not always pleasant to be around. To be fair to me, she is way too intense for me. I really need a chill environment or I start imploding. If I can't get peace outside I gotta go in, and then when even that is invaded . . . I just can't describe what it is like to be slowly niced to death.

On a more positive note, I have to go back to NH tomorrow. Adam and I are bringing my daughter and grandson to see The Wizard of Oz and I will be there for a couple of days. I'm giddy just thinking about the tranquility. I've applied to about 30 places so far. I'll start checking back next week. Not so much luck so far. Everyone's been really nice so far though where I've gone. Very friendly. I'm having some trouble with the homeless situation though.

There are quite a few people who you can tell wander the streets by day until they can go to the shelters. It's very disturbing to me. They are usually so underdressed. Little cotton sneakers, no jackets, no hats. Sometimes they are mumbling to themselves. Here I am walking around or driving in my warm car and I'm wearing a wool coat, etc. with my nice warm boots. I feel kinda guilty. It will instantly suck whatever pleasure I am feeling at the moment away, and yet . . . I still walk by and ignore the woman on the corner when she starts asking me for money.

The other day I came around the corner and saw this guy pressed against the building trying to stay out of the wind. So I turned and walked back the other way so I wouldn't have to walk by him. What I really wanted to do was give him some peanut butter crackers or something. I guess turning around and walking away is the next best thing to crackers.

Day 1

Well, first I want to say thankyou to everyone for all the good thoughts. It's definitely a messed up situation, and I am not the greatest at separating my public and private life, so hope it's not too awkward for anyone. I am here now, and after less than 24 hours know I have to get out soon. It's really hard for me, and I would imagine most, not to have my own space. I am also a bit of a minimalist, and my parents are kind of maximumalist, and so I am feeling a little claustrophobic. I am grateful for the space, but also know I can not last long here. I wish the room I am in were a sanctuary, and they did the best they could moving stuff out of it so I could move into it, but it's a bit like living in a tetris game where all the pieces are just barely separated, everything hits something else if you open it, and I keep hitting my feet on the stuff under the bed if I step too close to it. My mother, although well intentioned, keeps trying to pay for everything I need to buy. She even just offered to give me cash before I left. Just cash, in case I needed some cash. Eye-yi-yi. On the upside, I am sitting in a nice warm coffee house, after a chilly couple of hours humping for a job. I handed out about 15 resumes and will be back tomorrow to leave more. There are well over a hundred and fifty restaurants in the Portland area, at least I think, so lots of options, but limited hiring. It is a really great area though. I love the energy, and although I have left the mountains, I am less than 15 minutes from the ocean. But still, I keep thinking of Adam and often wishing he were here to share things with me. I do miss him. Oh well. Hopefully it's for the best, or else it's just another big mistake I've made in my life. Again, thank you everyone for reading and for being interested in what's going on.

Moving day

Well, today is the day I have chosen to head down the road. It's kind of a sad day. I'll be back here next Sunday as Adam and I are taking my daughter Amy and my grandson Owen to see The Wizard of Oz (play). Yeah, it's all just really sad, but I think necessary. I think everyone will be happier in the long run. I guess there's not really much more to say.

Hot enchiladas, super cold air

I keep reading about how cold it is for everyone. I don't really follow the weather too far outside my own area, so maybe it is really cold where you are, but let me tell you, it is really cold here! This morning it was -21 degrees below zero. About an hour and a 1/2 north of us it was -35 degrees below zero. Thank god the wind is not blowing. It would be unbearable. I am making a fantastic dinner tonight. It's almost ready. I thought I would surprise Adam with a meat meal since he has always so willingly eaten much vegetarian food with me, and so I am making beef enchiladas with a red chili sauce, black refried beans and rice. The individual components are yum, yum, yummy, I think we might drop dead from the deliciousness of the dinner itself.

Ready to move

Well, I am mostly packed and ready to go. It's hard to live once you've packed. Even though I tried to keep stuff out that I thought I would need over the last week or so, I have had to reopen several boxes. Sadly/gladly, we have a showing of the house Friday, and so I will spend most of my energy moving the upstairs boxes down into my studio to get them out of the way. I am not very optimistic that anything fruitful will come of the showing, but you never know. My game plan is to head on down the road Monday. I am going to stay with my parents (mom and stepdad) for what could be a couple of months till I save up money for my own place. I have not lived with my parents since I was about 20. This could be challenging for all involved. I intend to live within a brief walk of downtown Portland Maine, and it is unlikely I will be able to afford a place of my own, and so might have to get a room mate. I have never had a room mate and so this will be a new experience. I also need to find a place/room mate that will allow a dog and cat. It's funny how many ads I have seen that say they have pets and so you must love dogs to live there, but, you can't bring your own. Eventually I'll find something.

Worm gears

Here's a little project I have going on. I was making bread last week and heard something snap inside my mixer, and the mixer would not work after that. So, although I could really use a new larger and more powerful mixer, I am kind of attached to this one-I've had it for like 10-12 years or something. So I found the manual online and took it apart. No easy feat this is by the way. I thought I had snapped a belt but I actually broke a couple of gears.

Trying to keep my screws and such organized.

So here's the culprit. It is called the worm gear shaft and pinion. I mangled the top plastic gear (why is this the only plastic gear in there? Hmmm?) and actually snapped a couple of teeth off the smaller metal gear on the other end. All in all, does not make for a productive mixer. The part is only 25$ though, so that's good news. If I can get it all back together then I should be golden!

It was colder than a witch's you know what today

I think I'm moving. It's a little overwhelming. The circumstances surrounding the move are emotionally difficult, and the prospect of moving my pottery shit into storage is an incredibly physically daunting task. I guess I am really preaching to the choir. Many of you are potters of course. Everything is just so heavy and space consuming. I'm thinking I should get heated storage because my kilns and pugmill and wheel will be in there. I am worried about subzero temperatures and the electronics. Part of me just wants to sell everything. I can certainly use the money, and am aware that with prolonged storage eventually I will cross a financial line where I have spent more storing my things than they are worth. But I know that if I sell I will never buy again, and that will be that. I honestly don't see myself being able to set up a studio again for several years. What to do. I've got to give everything some thought.