Journal: June 11th. More cleaning with Logan and Alicia. Pittengers

Preparing for Laura's arrival,  Alicia and I continued to work our way through the pantry while Logan did some massive brush clearing.  
I got Randy Pittenger's number from the Hampton township offices where I went to check on tax bills, etc.  (good thing I did--I idiscovered that they'd sent the latest bill to my brother who a ) didn't tell me about it and b) didn't pay it, and c) didn't give them my address.  So--I had to pay a delinquent fee as well.  I'm working hard at being a happy big spender--gladly paying all workers whatever they ask, shouldering all tax responsibilities, etc., but that extra $76.00--that did make me cranky!
Once I paid my taxes, I was planning to get a post office box.  I stopped for a bit at a farm stand--where I bought one new jersey tomato for $1.49 and had a very long talk with the proprietor--a 65 year old woman who had grown up on long island, but married a new jersey farmer many years ago--and now sold plants and vegetables 70 hours a week.
Due to that delay,   it was lunch hour at the tiny new post office in Augusta which everyone told me was the most efficient (and the closest to home--Hampton doesn't have a post office--just a municipal building and a volunteer fire department).  The place was lunch hour packed--everyone in the neighborhood had a bit of post office business.  Instead of getting a p.o. box, i headed home.

Logan and his sister Alicia had arrived soon after I'd left for my errands.  He'd brought a weed-whacker and chain saw and was happily hacking away at the brush that had overgrown our very long driveway--and Alicia, who clearly knows her way around a catastrophic kitchen had made great inroads washing the hundreds of dishes that covered the floor.                                          

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I joined her--she was getting a bit overwhelmed with the chaos of it--it is difficult to believe--there are many sets of dishes, scores of enormous serving platters, gravy boats, random pieces of elegant china--i'm not clear where it all comes from--aunt frieda? grandparents?  hard to know.

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We've completely cleaned out all the cabinets and the pantry which had been a mouse-infested garbage dump for years--and have lined up all this dinnerware on newly lined shelves--maybe i'm thinking we will sell it for a small fortune --it is  highly unlikely that it is worth much---but still hard to throw it out.


I kept working after they left---oh dear--this is all a long digression--writing down every minute of yesterday all to lead up to a phone call from Randy Pittenger.  I'd called earlier and spoken with his wife Kathy, whose number I'd gotten at the Hampton Town Office --oh talk about digressions--it's now 8:30--saturday nght---almost dark--i turned off the light in the kitchen and came into the dining room where my computer is--instant crashings and clatterings in the kitchen.  Of course half or maybe 94% of the cleaning we're doing is to get the animals out of the house.  I know there's a mouse in the kitchen--and so far have been a wus about traps--I saw the mouse  the other day as we were cleaning the pantry--and just now saw it again--scurrying about--now that i know it's route (well, of course i knew it's basic route before due to the fine trail of mouse turds, but now, I really know it--so perhaps laura is made of sterner stuff that I and we'll set up some traps.

o.k. back to Randy Pittenger.  He started the Hampton Township Historical Society about ten years ago.  Hard to know what it does beyond putting out a newsletter of old pictures--and trying to raise money for said paper (of course I was hoping it would be some cash rich organization looking for an old house project in which to pour its funds).  He was, however, pretty terrific.  He's 53==was originally a wood carver--oh maybe not--but wood carving is his art of choice--he worked for years making furntiure and as a sexton in churches.  Do we even know what a sexton is?  His wife Kathy (who now works as a sexton at a different church here) said that she doesn't think a word like sexton should have anything to do with a church ---but there you have it.  It appears that a sexton--beyond appearing in Jane Austen novels is a sort of church caretaker.  Randy is no longer a sexton.  He now is a stone carver--his main work is head stones--and he also maintains a couple of cemeteries up here.  He used to come fishing in our lake as a kid (his uncle, Hank Pittenger--is the famous handyman Hank who worked for my father).-
I gave him the tour of the house --he was like a kid in a candy store--couldn't get over all the treasures.  "you have a diamond in the rough," he said in room after room.   We took a walk around the lake--the lake where he used to fish which is no longer mine--and it was all quite splendid.
This evening Kathy, his wife, called.  First, she wanted to remind me to check for ticks-- Randy had found two ticks after returning from our walk.  Second, she offered me some of the almond pignoli cookies which she had been baking when we spoke yesterday and third, she was wondering if I might be interested in hiring their two sons--they'd worked previous summers in the local elementary school--but that funding was cut, so...
And indeed, as the economic stimulus program of Hampton Township, how could I say no?

Journal: June 4th. Phoebe in house. Recyling. Home Depot. Lowe's. Deer.

A phoebe flew into the house today -and due to her little bird brain could not figure out how to get out--she was so frightened that she laid an egg in a panic. I discovered and cleaned up the little broken egg once she had made it back outside. (I'd never heard of such a thing, but George tells me this is not so rare). I trust him on the bird question as every morning he gathers eggs on his 94 year old mother's farm. She sells them for $2.50 a dozen--and I am working on my first dozen right now.

After another recyclng visit to landfill  and trips to Home Depot and Lowe's I took a long walk--and saw a deer with newly born fawn--so new they did not even budge but allowed me to take their pictures. 

Journal: June 1st. Moving in

Shoes with nests in hall closet

Woke up the morning of June 1st in the house.  This was the real beginning.  So very much to do--the initial cleanings had scarcely scratched the surface, and there was so much else to do.  Every closet, every drawer, every corner needed emptying and scouring. 

The first task was to figure out how to use my computer.  Who could have guessed at the beginning of this saga (who knows what beginning I am talking about?) that computer access was my primary concern.  Before arriving, I'd dealt with the telephone question (there was no longer a land line in the house) by buying a very very smart phone--a Motorola Android--bypassing the I-Phone because my New Jersey informants told me AT and T barely worked in New Jersey, where Verizon reigned supreme.

Although the phone was splendid and even  provided me with a lovely talking gps system which i was gradually learning how to operate (I'd manage to use it with ease and grace during my cross drive, but the ny metropolitan area was rife with new challenges). My phone is internet connected, but I can't write on it--and it is too small for me to really read--and with a proper computer connection I can speak with Sam in Germany--so---although I'd like to think I'd do just fine without internet--turns out to be something I really want).

I'd  had a conversation with my nearest neighbor--who told me that I could get a wireless hook-up through Verizon.  I  thought I'd hit paydirt  when the young man at the Verizon store less than a mile away convinced me to get a little card that would provide wireless for up to five computers--and I was about to buy it and walk out when they discovered that my California account could only be accessed through the mega-verizon store at the Rockaway mall about twenty miles away. 

Twenty miles?  Nothing to a cross country vaulter like me--so off I went.   In the midst of my transaction there, a young man, eavesdropping on my dealings, suggested I could perhaps bypass Verizon with an app on my phone.  That didn't work out--but in the course of our conversation I learned that he lived about two miles from me--and although he was working part-time at a farm, he would be happy to help me with clean-up for $10 an hour. 

He told me he'd be haying the next day, but would give me a call and come to work on Thursday.  We exchanged numbers on our matching Androids.  I then purchased the wireless device which I hoped would solve my internet situation and felt I was moving forward in all directions as I drove back to the house.