The lens of perspective
May. 31st, 2004 12:28 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
elfsAlong that spectrum of joys and agonies that is life, helping one friend evict another has to rank somewhere down amongst the infra-reds of suck. It doesn't help that the evictee was once a beautiful, vivacious young redhead straight out of a Heinlein novel, who has since been laid low by a collection of medical problems that leave her wheelchair-bound for much of the day. I can't help but admit that I really ached for both sides, but I also understand the sense of betrayal and the unwillingness of the evictor to be dragged down by someone who needs "rescue."
Oh, yeah, I understand that last part. Unlike someone else I know, I rarely show my scars in public.
We helped her and her sister-- who's fully abled-- pack their stuff and get ready to stick most of it in storage. There was an unimaginable depth of junk, dead computers and a thousand stuffed animals and things she hadn't seen "in years." I had to wonder-- is it a guy thing to ocassionally purge stuff when he has only a 90% confidence he'll never read/play with/use something again? I do that, mostly with physical stuff-- data gets shoved into progressively bigger hard drives just because they don't take up a lot of space. Her sister must have been in full denial because she just stayed in her room.
Kouryou-chan and Yamaarashi-chan were completely unaware of what sort of emotional walling-off was going on in the meantime. They played in the front yard of the house with their Nerf ball and bat, and frisbees, and various other miscellany toys they and two other kids from the work party. New kids are always a vast distraction for them.
Afterwards, the work party turned its attention to the house she'd been living in, cleaning it up. I was a little worried about the front left corner of the house, where there seems to be some wood rot under one of the soffits, but I hammered them back into place anyway. The roof was a mess, and since I had a lot of experience up on roofs, having scraped nearly sixty pounds of moss off my own roof last week, it was my turn to go up. Someone else loosened the moss with a broom while I cleaned out the gutters, and then we traded off the pressure-washer to finish the job. Then I went about to each gutter and hammered them back into place; there was so much weight in them from the crap that had collected over the years that the nails holding them up and in were coming lose. There were runs to the dump and runs to the storage center.
Gods, that was ugly.
Later, we went over to Desirae's house. She had been part of the work party as well, and her place was close and had the all-important hot tub. In deference to our ages, we had pizza, hard lemonade, and ibuprofen out on the counter. The girls were stunned with a Pooh movie and dinner while the rest of us tubbed and tried not to talk about the necessary tragedy we'd just abetted.
Oh, yeah, I understand that last part. Unlike someone else I know, I rarely show my scars in public.
We helped her and her sister-- who's fully abled-- pack their stuff and get ready to stick most of it in storage. There was an unimaginable depth of junk, dead computers and a thousand stuffed animals and things she hadn't seen "in years." I had to wonder-- is it a guy thing to ocassionally purge stuff when he has only a 90% confidence he'll never read/play with/use something again? I do that, mostly with physical stuff-- data gets shoved into progressively bigger hard drives just because they don't take up a lot of space. Her sister must have been in full denial because she just stayed in her room.
Kouryou-chan and Yamaarashi-chan were completely unaware of what sort of emotional walling-off was going on in the meantime. They played in the front yard of the house with their Nerf ball and bat, and frisbees, and various other miscellany toys they and two other kids from the work party. New kids are always a vast distraction for them.
Afterwards, the work party turned its attention to the house she'd been living in, cleaning it up. I was a little worried about the front left corner of the house, where there seems to be some wood rot under one of the soffits, but I hammered them back into place anyway. The roof was a mess, and since I had a lot of experience up on roofs, having scraped nearly sixty pounds of moss off my own roof last week, it was my turn to go up. Someone else loosened the moss with a broom while I cleaned out the gutters, and then we traded off the pressure-washer to finish the job. Then I went about to each gutter and hammered them back into place; there was so much weight in them from the crap that had collected over the years that the nails holding them up and in were coming lose. There were runs to the dump and runs to the storage center.
Gods, that was ugly.
Later, we went over to Desirae's house. She had been part of the work party as well, and her place was close and had the all-important hot tub. In deference to our ages, we had pizza, hard lemonade, and ibuprofen out on the counter. The girls were stunned with a Pooh movie and dinner while the rest of us tubbed and tried not to talk about the necessary tragedy we'd just abetted.
