house and home

On Monday afternoon, Doug and his pal Matt spent an hour or two dismantling my Wedgewood stove, carrying it to the front of the house, and taking it down the stairs on a hydraulic dolly. The stove will probably be cannibalized -- apparently, the most valuable parts are the clock, the salt and pepper shakers, and the enameled stove top.

I went home early to let them in, and Ariel came to unbar the gate. Nobody was working and I couldn't help feeling depressed about the dust and disorder. Naturally, all the disruption seems worse when nothing is happening. But, like most feelings, the depression passed. Now I'm once again feeling anticipatory and anxious.

The mission creep continues -- painting to extend all along the side of the house, for about $2,000, and floors being refinished throughout the house for probably about the same amount. These are both good deals, in the grand scheme of things.

The riser and weatherhead will be adjusted later this week, and then the city inspector will come and give us the green card, and then PG&E will attach my wires permanently, and then Ariel will bill me, and then I will send the bill to the insurance carrier.

drywall

The back of the house feels like an interior space. Wahoo. It's a dusty, empty space with an acrid smell of whatever it is they use to coat the drywall, but still.

Asilomar, then A+B

I can remember sitting in the dining hall with the junior faculty and the grad students, but it seems like it happened in the distant past -- not last weekend. The day I spent with A and B seems much more recent. I drove home on Tuesday afternoon and when I arrived sometime after 6:00 there was an old SUV in the driveway. I didn't recognize it but I was sure it had to do with Gene and Barbara, so I stomped up the stairs and rang their bell. Barbara looked mystified and told me that she was hearing construction sounds from my house, which surprised me -- nobody has ever worked past 5:00 as far as I know. But she was right -- the dry wall guys were still working, and one of them was parked in my driveway. A few of the guys went home shortly after the SUV was moved, but two or three of them kept working until 7:30 or so. A couple/few had to came back three times, including this morning, to apply three coats of mud (a term I learned from Des). I grumbled when Ariel called to say there would be work going on today but I really want my house back so after a bit of moaning and groaning I sucked it up. I watered out

front and then drove over to Bernal Heights, thinking I'd go to the farmer's market and then get chips at either Good Life or Whole Foods. But then I realized I only had time to go to Good Life. 

The party this afternoon was fine. I spent a lot of time talking to a couple of SFPD officers -- Jerome and . . . Kevin, or something like that. Jerome, who is 25, grew up in the Mission; he may be Filipino -- he has a quiet way of carrying himself, which contrasts with his thick tattooed arms. Kevin claimed to be 40 but he looks younger; he has bright blue eyes and a habit of smiling pretty much all the time. I also enjoyed talking to Kisha (sp?) and Maxine and David F. It was tiring, of course. I came home and sat on the couch, nodded off, then got into bed, which is where I am right now.

I bought three paint samples yesterday at the paint store on Webster St. I got help from a tall, thin guy, maybe mid-thirties, with messy hair and nerdy glasses helped me -- he pulled off the trick of being knowledgable but not bossy or condescending. I decided to try the Benjamin Moore lavender and two C2 colors: a wheaty yellow-green called Outback and a blue-gray called Tidal. Tomorrow I'll apply patches to the siding.

The floors are going in this week -- I wonder if it's too late to get the living room floors refinished to match? I should ask.

The insurance company seems to be dealing with my claim. I called Mellinek Muchison twice and he called back when I wasn't paying attention to my phone, with a rather strange question about whether PG&E suffered any losses. Who knows. I just want him to ask me for an accounting of the costs I've incurred, so I can get some money.

I smell skunk.

inside and outside

return from pg

a better week

Here's hoping for a better week. My power is temporarily restored, pending an inspection and a PG&E hookup. I will not willingly absorb the cost.

I really should be getting ready for my gig at Asilomar but have not done much about that this weekend. Instead I've deadheaded and watered out front, pondered my paint cards after I taped them to the front of the house, finished the novel to be discussed tomorrow, sent a couple of overdue emails, and washed off the front steps.

The rodent control guys showed up early yesterday. I think I could have done what they did, but that's OK. They will be responsible for anything under the house for the next month or so. I haven't heard any gnawing or scratching for the past couple of nights -- could be that Alex scared whatever was under there when he was repairing (replacing?) the wiring.

smart vagus nerve

This just in, from the NYT:

According to medical experts, playing it safe by engaging in shallow, unfulfilling or nonreciprocal relationships has physical repercussions. Not only do the resulting feelings of loneliness and isolation increase the risk of death as much as smoking, alcoholism and obesity; you may also lose tone, or function, in the so-called smart vagus nerve, which brain researchers think allows us to be in intimate, supportive and reciprocal relationships in the first place.

“It’s huge to have good vagal tone, because it modulates our instinctive fight, flight or freeze response,” said Amy Banks, a psychiatrist at the Wellesley Centers for Women who specializes in the growing field of interpersonal neurobiology and is the author of “Wired to Connect: The Surprising Link Between Brain Science and Strong, Healthy Relationships.”

In the presence of a true friend, Dr. Banks said, the smart or modulating aspect of the vagus nerve is what makes us feel at ease rather than on guard as when we are with a stranger or someone judgmental. It’s what enables us to feel O.K. about exposing the soft underbelly of our psyche and helps us stay engaged and present in times of conflict. Lacking authentic friendships, the smart vagus nerve is not exercised. It loses tone and one’s anxiety remains high, making abiding, deep connections difficult.

Frontier power outage

It was a bad week.