I am witnessing fellesferie, what Norwegians call "shutting down the country for July", as someone working through it for the first time, and I actually kind of dig it. I say that knowing full well that I spent the summer before my first year as head of school busting my ass, but you'll have to excuse me as I am still living in denial of most of the details of that traumatic experience. Anyway, I have been working from home or the cabin since my boss went on vacation. The near constant rain has it feeling a little less like summer and more like spring, but alas, this is Norway. What did I expect? This adjustment of working from home and having less regular meetings has allowed me to adjust my day so I can prioritize getting some exercise during the day (when the motivation is still there). I take coffee breaks with NBF instead of the office peeps, and in general, I just feel more productive and relaxed. Of course, now, I endure endless sexual harassment at the work place. I guess there have to be trade offs. But don't get me wrong, it isn't at all a lazy, blissful existence. Before my boss went on vacation, we established a list of tasks to keep me occupied for three weeks. I told her it looked like a list that might exist if she was taking a year's sabbatical, but I would give it my best shot. NBF and I have been living a different life this month as well since both BKs are away. We haven't had taco Friday for the last two weeks, and tomorrow will make week three without. It's been glorious. We've taken on some home and cabin improvements including installing a 500 liter tank under the cabin to replace the 75-100 liter tank that used to be there. With our new pumping system, we do not have to carry water up the stairs either. The upgrade is obvious. It might even be better than tacoless fridays. Although, finding and getting the tank was an adventure in and of itself. We took measurements, and I began a search on the used marketplace. Needless to say, with the search term "vanntank", I got notification for everything that mentioned water tank in the ad, regardless of size. One of my favorites was a Christmas tree stand with a water tank. Although when the ad for the Roomba arrived on the same day as the Nerf water gun, I reached my breaking point. Obviously, I was not going to find a used tank, so I broke down and started searching online suppliers. It was actually quite a chore to match ideal cost, size, and capacity. Our dream was 500 liters, but we decided our best, read most affordable, option was going to be a 300 liter tank. It wasn't until I went to order the tank that I found out they didn't sell to individuals. FFS. Back to the search. It was almost unbelievable, but we found a 500 liter tank that would fit through the cellar door. It was even close enough we could save money by picking it up ourselves rather than having it shipped. NBF was sure it would fit in my car, so away we went. Narrator: It did not fit in her car. We left home around 6:30 to make it to this place when it opened at 8. The disappointment was real when it didn't fit, and to be fair, if the seats folded flat, it absolutely would have fit in the car. NBF was unbothered and undeterred. He went to buy straps and proceeded to strap the tank into my car for the drive home. Mind you, my car does not have a trailer hitch, so we were not able to just go rent a trailer. I questioned the legality of it and shook my head at the redneck-ity of it. Oh, and did I mention that I had a teams meeting scheduled that was now going to have to happen at some point on the drive home? It was surprisingly less windtunnelesque than you would imagine. I swear I am making up more English the longer I live over here. I might keep windtunnelesque though, I know a few people that could describe. Living with this man is just adventure after adventure, and I am here for it.
I am so excited about the water tank installation because it means that the cabin is much more user friendly and can really be ready to serve that double purpose of being a place friends and family can use when they visit. I have already been working on convincing a few people to come over. That said, installing the water tank was complete with all the #nellie you would expect including having to shove the tank in the door on its side and then flip it once it was under the cabin. It did not go in the place we had hoped, and now it takes up most of the entrance to the cellar due to my aggressive/hopeful? measuring. After we installed and filled the tank, we realized we were missing a fitting. NBF had a plan that ended up spilling less than a liter of water when he put the piece in place, however, he got absolutely soaked reattaching a hose that I did not get sealed up properly. You know, consequences of living with what he calls an "American wild ass". At home, NBF has been working hard on clearing the Captain's list as well. I've tried to give him a hand, but I was gently encouraged, and by gently encouraged I mean laughed at, to find other tasks to do after I vacuumed the bathroom without installing the filter onto the wet/dry vac first. Joke's on him, I blew enough dirt into the entry way to give myself other things to do anyway. On my quest to find other tasks, I decided to take charge of emptying, cleaning, and refilling the hot tub. Just so we're clear, I question my life choices enough. I don't need your judgment right now. I would say everything went pretty smoothly...until it was time to fill the tub. I have tried unsuccessfully three separate times to secure the water hose the way NBF does, and this time was no different. I went out to check on the filling progress, only to find the hose blasting the TV on the wall. This was a new low. Before, the hose had had the decency to fall out the entry way and spray out into the yard, but in a fit of what I can only imagine was an attempt at Norwegian humor, it wedged itself so that it was pointing directly at the television causing it to power on. I dried up the TV the best I could and got it shut off before having NBF retuck the hose for the rest of the fill. Of course, he had to come see what was happening, I can't quietly live my life and pretend this shit doesn't happen. OH NO! I have a fucking witness following me everywhere. When I went back to check, the television was back on, but this time I had the sense to unplug it. The tub was full, so I got all the chemicals added before wrestling the lid on. The hot tub is in a corner, so I have to lay across one side to attach the cover's corner. I just know, one of these times, I am going to roll into the tub. Cursing myself for not asking NBF to come with me, I manage to finish up and close up the curtains. At this point I realize not only is the nozzle of the hose still inside, but I have managed to get the hose tangled in the curtain guideline. And now it starts to rain. Not simply a shower, but a real down to my underwear soaking. I continue untangling the hose, only to see that I have managed to get it wrapped not only once, but twice around the guide wire. FFS! But by then, I have reached a point where it is as much extra effort to open the curtains, so I just keep going. Once I get it untangled, I toss the hose under the tripod of the firepit so I can go start winding it onto the hose wheel without it getting caught on the firepit. I realize I am more worked up than I thought when I give the hose a "gentle" tug after I meet some resistance. It is at this point I ended up yanking the fire pit off of the porch. When I run over to rescue the now dangling burn bowl and attempt to simultaneously reattach the chain and get the tripod up on the thigh high porch, the hose whips free and begins to blast me with water. Folks, I am already plenty wet from the rain, and now I am just fucking livid because I cannot grab the hose until I have handled the fire pit. I have to just let it spray me and the fire pit which adds ash to the mess. Of course, I twist the nozzle the wrong way causing it to be on full force and somehow manage to blast myself in the face attempting to turn this maliciously twisted hose away from me before I can actually stop the water. I go back to cranking the hose wheel, getting more angry with every crank wondering, why didn't I shut the water off first...crank... why does it rain so fucking much in Norway....crank... why hasn't NBF magically intuited that I need help yet?? When the time comes to wrestle the hose connecting the faucet to the hose wheel, I absolutely cannot be bothered to go beyond draping it over the faucet in all its haphazard, messy glory. That, my friends, is tomorrow Nellie's problem, and truth be told, I hope it's tomorrow NBF's problem! I stomp into the house soaked with black ash all over my hands and arms and march straight to the bathroom. NBF asks what is wrong, but all I can do is tell him I need to calm my tits before I can even look at him. I get myself composed and sit on the sofa to tell him the same story I have just told you. When I finish, he has the unmitigated audacity to ask me, "Is it a bad time to ask HOSE it going?" complete with a fucking knee slap. He actually slapped his knee. HOSE it going...Immabout to show you! As I am typing, it is four days post incident and I can assure you it is still too fucking soon to ask me HOSE it going. (But he's still doing it.) Anyway, I hope you are enjoying your summer at least as much as NBF because who needs vacation when you have an in house comedy club?
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I was reading an article not so long ago about John Koenig, an American author, who wrote a book titled The Dictionary of Obscure Sorrows. While I haven't read the book, I have seen snippets online. Eventually, I intend to buy the book, because of course I am going to hoard and bookworm. In this book, Koenig invents words to describe deep emotional feelings for which a single English word doesn't exist. Of course, there are already linguists lining up to be his own personal Mrs. Granger, (Quick sidenote, if you haven't read Frindle, do it. Then you'll get this reference.) and many more people that have latched onto some of the new words enthusiastically upon realizing they are not alone in these feelings. The word that caught my attention is "sonder." In one of those quirky alignment of the stars moments, I had been thinking about how my mother was my age when my father passed away. I knew she was young, but I had never really been able to fully grasp it until then. It was later that day, that I ran across the article about this book of what I can only imagine are thought provoking words and perspective. The feelings and ideas in this book may never pass into full fledged existence in the English language, but it is comforting to know we are not alone in feelings, especially those that are unsettling and leave our mind roiling. In my own experience, trying to understand this very basic concept of humanizing others and imagining their life as no less complex than your own, can help you to relate better under difficult circumstances. I can remember telling one of my colleagues that I wished I could see more of the humanity in a teacher instead of seeing her as a problem to solve. Of course, keep in mind this can backfire spectacularly. In my efforts to be more intentional about acknowledging the humanity of challenging people, I decided to do a social media search for a teacher I worked with. I truly thought if I could see this person in their element and away from the struggles of school, I could find more compassion. Instead I found a shit badger and more than I needed to know. I vowed to never partake in that particular exercise in humanity again!
It can be challenging to see other people as whole ass humans and come to understand that they assign your role in their lives...for instance, when they are your children. It's no secret that BAH has zero filter. (And quite frankly, no, I do not know where he gets that.) When I first introduced NBF to the boys, it was clumsy and awkward. FFS, I had never really dated, let alone been serious with a man other than their father. However...I was still not prepared to be told, "I'm not all about talking to some dude that's banging my mom." Breathe in, breathe out. You birthed this little bundle of ever loving fucking sass, I mean... joy. When his attitude changed to, "You should have gotten me a stepdad sooner," I was ecstatic but in the back of my mind it was silly for him to use the word stepdad. I mean, this "grown ass man" I've raised never struck me as the type to go any further than...my mom's man. He was after all a full fledged adult, married and all. But I never said anything to him about it and just giggled to myself when NBF embraced the stepdad title and would "side" with the kids going so far as to chastise me for not sending BAH a cowhide he wanted from IKEA. Don't even get me started about how they gang up on me in messages. All that is beside the point. In referring to NBF as his stepdad, even jokingly, he was defining the role of NBF in his life. It was about his acceptance, his desire to be closer, his ownership of their interactions....establishing a connection outside of me. Besides, it's not uncommon to need your parents and other trusted adults well into adulthood to be role models and to want that support as you hoe your row through life. In this way, I am glad he has NBF. And I have to be honest and say that I never really considered the depths of these thoughts until BK introduced me to his music teacher as stemor, step mom. I wouldn't have been offended to be introduced as my dad's girlfriend or sambo. He could have pawned me off on NBF, but instead he declared an ownership in our relationship and established our connection outside of NBF. Suddenly, what BAH had done, made more sense to me. I didn't ever attempt to establish myself as mom, but then I don't get to assign my character role in BK's life. Actually, none of us get to assign those titles to ourselves, but we do get to choose to live up to the character we're chosen to play. We may even be taken by surprise at our role. I can tell you several instances in my life where I have stumbled upon minor character roles that went beyond the lady sitting at the table drinking coffee. No matter how many seasons I get to play the role, it is still meaningful and impactful all these years later. Most recently, I was invited to share a special moment with a friend. This is one of those...I have moved up from being a dead body on CSI Miami to I actually get to be the wife of the suspect on Criminal Minds...type of supporting roles! I don't want to tell her story, but I do want to share the gratitude and immense feelings I have connected to this experience. I work hard to undo cycles that exist in my family and have for generations. Some of these cycles take much more personal work than others, and much of the work I don't talk about. It isn't my voice that is needed for some of the spaces I am choosing to learn in. This is one of those spaces, so I am choosing carefully how I convey this moment. I was invited to watch the Little Mermaid and share an instant of raw childhood joy with an adult woman. It was at the same time humbling and empowering for her to be so open and to have chosen me. What a tremendous gift she gave me, and maybe she doesn't even see that. I can't help but feel a deep contentment and sense of validation in my heart. But of course, it works the other way as well. Some people will assign you as the villain in their story. They need you to play the antagonist to support the story line of their character. You may never understand and simply have to accept that not all people will like you, and really, that's okay. However, I do like to imagine the unbridled audacity I have in other people's stories considering I have ALL the audacity in mine. It also helps me not be so angry when I am in a moment where I can only see them as unwieldy cockwagons who won't stop making eye contact with the fucking camera, even though they are an unpaid extra. Goddamnit, Samantha! All jokes aside, imagine having the words and wherewithal to not only understand but to communicate these feelings and ideas to others and to be understood. What a different place we could live in. Perhaps sonder isn't such a bad start. |
Nellie HillJust a woman leaping outside her comfort zone and telling the tale. Archives
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