Remedial post two of five.

On Saturday we got up and drove and tried to figure out how to get a shed put up on the property before we moved the shitstorm of stuff.

Mostly this consisted of frustration, with the big box depot people telling us there was nothing in stock and no hope for the next six to eight weeks.

There’s a very specific reason why this kind of big shed is the first important thing.

During the last few years, she and I have both been in living situations where we’re surrounded only by the most basic and functional kind of stuff. A very small-footprint way of living. The crap-burden of my old papers and tapes, her old sentimental furniture–that burden has been out of sight and out of mind in the back of the place on the dirt road, while the front part, just a kitchen, bedroom, bathroom, office, and laundry has been my machine for living.

For her it’s been fifth-wheel life of much the same kind.

I have no desire to go back to living with eight dozen boxes of shit underfoot.

It needs to be dealt with in time, but that time is not now.

My true living area will be clear of it, 1400 square feet of possibility.

If we could only shed up right.

Eventually we made an arrangement. I’m not at all sure it’s the right one, but it’s underway even so.

And that is thanks, to this SaturDay.