Friday, September 10, 2021
We’re finally here in Missouri. On our first night, Ray and I arrived with no electricity. The previous owners were apologetic and loaned us a generator so we wouldn’t lose all the food in our freezers. Exhausted from loading trucks before an eight-hour drive, we tried to sleep on the floor but finally abandoned that idea and began unloading. The electrical coop opened at 8 am and we were there when the doors opened to resolve the power problem. That was the first of many challenges we have overcome in our first ten days.
Matt got into ticks—or something. Tiny, red “mites” covered him, burrowed in his skin to prevent us from brushing them off. It was a nightmare. Ray said they were deer ticks, but they were almost microscopic. The former owner told us to wipe down with bleach to remove them. Matt followed the protocol, but he has around two dozen bites. Ray had dusted with sulfur that morning and had no insect problems. Matt’s new best friend is the sulfur soap we bought online.
But we’re doing well. Cleaning, unpacking, and consulting with contractors are all part of our normal life working from sunup to sundown. Stacks of boxes serve as a reminder there is much still left undone. We are tired, but we love it here. Except for the parasites—ticks—it feels like home.
A massive hurricane, Ida, was predicted to hit New Orleans around the first of the month. And I don’t know anything about Covid-19 numbers. We are offline. Our internet is scheduled for installment on Sept. 16.
Sunday, September 19, 2021
We had a surprise rain shower yesterday afternoon. Rain was predicted for this afternoon but it didn’t materialize. I guess forecasts are about as reliable in the Ozarks as they are in central Texas.
Ray was in Ft. Worth this weekend, so Matt and I visited the local church in our small community on the ridge. A few people we’ve met said the church consists of a great group of people, and I believe it.
From across the parking lot, a man wearing a shirt and tie waved at us. I whispered to Matt, “Either he’s the pastor, or we’re underdressed for this joint.” Turned out, he was the pastor. Most everyone shook our hands and introduced themselves, and I was relieved to find the pews were well-stocked with tissues and bottles of hand sanitizer placed six feet apart.
Pre-service small talk was rich with local heritage and humor. I jotted a few notes for future character dialogue. Then the old men sitting around us began talking about the land we bought. They knew all the former owners’ names and the conversation turned to the live water on our property. I felt exposed—almost violated—as strangers discussed my spring right there in the church house.
I was only familiar with one of the old hymns they sang from the Heavenly Highway Hymnal. I wondered as I glanced around the mostly retired crowd, What could I possibly offer this church? What would my place be? The sermon was on spiritual gifts. As usual, my spiritual gift—alternate—was not addressed. But whenever they mentioned “Worshipping on the Ridge” or “Prayer from the Ridge” I felt a connection to the people and the land that is now my home.
I’ve been cleaning, unpacking, and putting away for about three weeks and there is still much left to do before this place is home. It’s currently chaos. Soon I’ll begin some painting. We haven’t had the need to go to a hardware or home-improvement store in three days. I think that’s a record. Hopefully, that’s a good sign.
This is day two back on the internet for us. Yay.
Covid-19 rages on with a new MU variant and controversy over vaccine mandates continue.
Tuesday, September 28, 2021
The TV is connected now. Let the Netflix binges begin.
The laundry area is painted. And Matt and I re-stained the patio furniture. But we still aren’t unpacked. We have made some progress but the process is going much slower than I’d hoped. I feel like we are constantly working but still a long way from being finished.
Butterflies are plentiful. Insects abound but there are no mosquitoes or fire ants. Only ticks, but the sulfur soap seems to be effective. Matt has only found two more on him. A few hummingbirds remain. I asked the hot tub repairman about them, and he said, “They will be gone soon. The geese are still here, and when they leave the hummingbirds will hitch rides on their backs.” I had never heard that before and I think it’s nonsense. It’s too ludicrous even to bother Googling.
We have no idea where our mail has gone. I’ve called multiple post offices and no one can tell me anything. The new owners of our Mineral Wells house said they gave a bundle to the mail carrier, but we haven’t seen it.
The weather was cooler, but temperatures were back in the upper eighties yesterday and today. Rain is expected tomorrow.
I got my Missouri driver’s license yesterday, so I guess I’m officially a Texan once removed.