nature vs my house

I walked into the woodshed the other day and saw something scurry up into the rafters out of the corner of my eye.

I didn’t think it was Kat and spirits have been on my mind lately, so perhaps it was a spirit.   Probably not, because I rarely hear the spirit world, but you never know.  Strange things have happened to me before. 

Later that day I was cooking outside and glanced up at the roof and this gal was keenly observing me. 

I struggle so much with modern living.  With how it isolates nature and really ignores the way nature works.  We fight against it so hard.  I’m not wanting to do that.  I want to work with it.  Moving into a very, very old tear down house is not conducive to that.

The only way I think that would really work is to live in a teepee or some other shelter like that.  I would love to try that some day.  I’m slowly making my way toward a very simple, very rustic lifestyle.   Many would say I’m there already. 

In many regards I am close.  But the house I am moving into is problematic.   Not a place I want to live long term, due to concerns for health which I don’t know are valid are not. 

The basement is a sieve.  It’s wet, it doesn’t seem like a healthy place.  I’ve got to get a dehumidifier.  I’ve already got a sump pump.  I don’t want to keep adding machines into my life,  but I’d be swimming at this point if I didn’t have a pump. 

The attic has mold.  Enough said.

The attic is easily accessible to critters.  We thought we had patched the holes, but we were wrong.  And honestly can all the holes be patched in a house this old?  There have got to be gaps everywhere from the shifting.   And the wood is rotted.  So nature is in the attic messing up hundreds and hundreds of dollars of new insulation.  Sigh. 

I don’t want to remain frustrated and angry, so I’m shrugging my shoulders and saying it is what it is for the time being.   This all feels a bit like defeat to me. 

I’ve never been one for adventure.  I want predictable and stable.  That’s what I seek.  I need to work on developing a sense of adventure.  My life has been crazy.  Most of it not light or enjoyable.   But an adventure non the less.  If I can get to a place of being curious about what is coming next (even tomorrow) instead of all out dread, fear and anxiety, life would be better. 

I’ve got to let go of the fixes and repairs that still need to get done, because they most likely will not happen.   I can’t pay for anything.   And unless my situation drastically changes,  I will not be doing any upkeep on this house once I move in.  Dad spent a lot more money than he wanted to and keeps bringing it up. 

Man, it is so easy to be depressed over this whole mess.  So easy.  I’m in mourning for what I lost.  The hopes, dreams, plans, ideas.   Once I’ve worked through that, who knows how I’ll feel about this little house.   The possibilities are endless.