Tuesday, November 25, 2008

It's not that I don't care...oh who am I kidding , yes it is.

Ha!

So we went to the farm again this weekend, for a second walk through post eviction of the evil lady and also post some cleanup having been done. This was mostly for the benefit of HN, since I have already mentally moved in pretty much. This time though, the tour had a twist. We brought the whole damn family. Ok, not the *whole* family, but his mother and his very sensible, post modern styl-y sister. You can probably imagine that she was not much impressed with the ramshackle farm of my dreams. Which was fine, I didn't really expect her to be. Her house is different than a house I would want to live in, and I am happy to accept our differences and recognize that in matters of decor I probably don't want her input. Hence my never asking her.

HN however, being still a little unsure that the dismal pit he was looking at would in fact be transformed into the gilded palace in my mind, brought along Mom and Sister, for moral support I guess. I think he thinks my perspective is not realistic (if he only knew!) and wanted someone to give an opinion similar to his, to wit: report on what is there not what it will be when I'm done with it. Which is whatever: I haven't typically lived a life where I stop and ask everyone what they think about what I'm about to do. I go by myself, listen to my inner voice and pack the truck/write a check/head for the hills. It's jsut how I do. It's not how he does though, so I was trying to be sensitive. Plus, his mother informed my that that's how Latin American families do it. Everyone into the truck, someone is thinking of making a decision!

At the very least I thought it would be fun to watch. And it was, I guess. Ok, no it really wasn't. I am not a good compromiser, nor am I good at pretending to listen when people offer opinions I didn't ask for. So it went like this:

HN (to ME) What do you think? would this be a bedroom?
me: (opening mouth as to speak since I was directly addressed)
HN Sister: That doesn't make any sense! Why would you do that! This is the best room over here, but you must take down this silly fake brick (ed. note: now the brick stays! and I will show it to her weekly!)
HN Mother: Oh, HN, you should ask them if you can do this and this and this to the house. And ask also if they will take it off of rent! (ed note: she is Chilean. they can't not bargain. She tried to bargain the fabric lady at JoAnn's last week = HILARIOUS!)
me: (opening mouth as to speak)
HN Sister: And why are there 3 bathrooms! You should knock this all off, the whole back of the house, it's ridiculous!!!
me: (exit, stage left. Go hang out with Marla, house owner, F bomb dropper extraordinaire. A woman after my own heart)

This went on in some fashion for about 10 minutes. Then I just dissociated myself from the pack of them and went on my own tour. I still love it. I hung out with Marla, looking so very fetching in her carharrt coveralls with a sledgehammer and a crowbar. I want to be Marla when I grow up. I visited with Joyce, Marla's wife/ whatever lame legal term etc, who is super duper nice and was doing the non violent bits of stuff like pulling nails and spackling. I kicked it with their dog BoBo, toured the grounds, planned my room/new life on the farm and in general floated about smiling and leaving the room whenever a member of the HN clan opined. I have it all figured out.

After the tour, we departed (everyone back in the truck! Enclosed spaces are great for forcing opinions on people who keep leaving the room when you talk!), then I kicked them all out of my car, lock stock and smoking neighbor and went on an errand/shopping/alone time run and made many decisions without so much as a lick of input. So therapeutic. When I returned, HN and I were able to have a discussion about the day's adventure and what we had seen/were thinking, I was able to communicate that I love and plan to move to the farm and that next time he brings his whole family along I stay home. (i kid, i kid. Ok, I dont kid)

Bottom line= green acres is the place to be, and we're going for it! Sadly, I won't get Christmas on the farm just like I've always dreamed of, but gladly it's because more renovations are being done and it's just not feasible. There's also a surgery factor (his not mine) and a few other things to consider, but the wheels are in motion.

I can live with that.

1 comment:

The Great Explorer said...

Dude, Chilean or not they have yet to see the brilliant interior decorating not to be reckoned with force you are and will continue to be. Let them natter, it seems they need it for a functioning brain. Like you said in so many words, we're individuals and all that other hoopla. You don't have to care. You just have to pretend to care. Which, although it sounds like more effort, in the end... Well, let's just say this is one of the rare times the end truly justifies the means. Here, we'll practice. Big smile. Feel it in your eyes. Okay, now, repeat after me:

MmmmHMMM!!