My eyes popped open at 3:15 this morning. I tried to go back to sleep but my brain immediately began to race with lists. So much to do at work, on the farm, for the family, for the house. I am trying to keep my eyes on the prize and not panic.
After interviews at four different banks, renegotiating with two, and then a meeting with a financial advisor, I have decided on the bank to which I will apply for a mortgage. I emailed this mortgage officer Thursday evening, hoping to get one more concession before I committed. He finally replied last night. I won the concession but the officer informed me he was departing for a 10-day vacation. Oh my. Interest rates have already crept up since I began this process. I have to schedule a 60-day rate lock around the date Nick will have the house ready for appraisal (end of June). DH has long planned to use frequent flyer miles to go hiking in South America for his 65th birthday; he may be out of the country at what may now be the time of closing.
The whole thing is beginning to remind me of those math puzzles Dad used to pose at the dining room table: “If a train leaves Chicago…” I feel the same sense of futile stupidity. I will never figure this out.
Meanwhile I signed up for a 0% credit card to purchase appliances (we have never owned new appliances). I always put DH’s name first on everything because he is the primary breadwinner. There was a typo in the new card and I asked DH to call to grant permission for the company to speak to me. He could not pass the security questions. (This has always been a problem. He’s brilliant but unfamiliar with these conventions. Citibank once asked him for his mother’s maiden name. “Joan!” he replied confidently.) However after a bit of coaching we got the new card ironed out and I hope to have it in hand in time for Memorial Day sales. Until then I am reading Consumer Reports appliance reviews, juggling payments, and every day checking to make sure our bills are covered.
I picked up Lucy from college Wednesday night. Her bags are stacked in this house’s entryway. Does it make sense for her to unpack when we are moving in a month? Probably not. But the sprawling bags and boxes add to my sense of life mushrooming out of control.
At school I am coming down the home stretch with my classes. My 8th graders start Vietnam next Tuesday and my 7th graders will soon study Hamilton and Burr. The 7th grade class is a week behind — my fault, not properly adapting to a schedule change — and I need to come up with a fix. Two more weeks to wrap up every idea and then my written reports will be due.
I have rented the garage apartment to a pair of college students for the summer. I have to get them the lease this weekend, clean the apartment, set up the air conditioner, and do some minor painting and repairs. They arrive in 16 days.
It takes me an hour every day to move the sheep to fresh grass.
I need to fix fence and transition the cattle from hay to grass. I need to get the mowers out of storage. I need to ferry the truck to its appointment on Tuesday. I need to take Lucy driving regularly before her driver’s test. I need to order bathroom fixtures. I need to figure out countertops. I need to buy bathroom tile. I need to address our complete lack of living room furniture. Friends are coming to stay next weekend and the following evening I am hosting the 8th grade class party. The next weekend we will have school trustees as houseguests.
Breathe in, breathe out.
The metal roofing has started.
It is supposed to rain most of the next two weeks. I try not to be anxious about the ability to put up siding and roofing under these conditions. Instead I am concentrating on gratitude that we are not in a drought.
Thank you, God, for my many blessings.