That's the name of our new home. And our castle it will be -- over 1700 square feet of brand new modular house. Sometime within the next two weeks, our castle will be driven down the highway and parked on the new basement dug up on the old lot. All traces of the old house are gone, and with them, most of our sadness over all the things we lost. We are now moving forward with plans for the future, and it feels damn good.
But it will be weird, because for 7 years we have been fixing up the old, 1920's victorian-style abode, and we had many many more plans for the future. Now we suddenly own a brand new home, that is virtually maintenance free. What will we do with our new-found time?
HAHAHAHAHA. Perhaps sleep more, cook more, make love more, and of course, play with the boys more.
So, when all is said and done, we may be better off. We don't have much to move, and we will have a nice amount of equity in the new home. I have successfully de-cluttered my life.
Gotta look at the positives when Mr. Fire eats all your worldly possessions.
Sunday, March 29, 2009
Saturday, March 28, 2009
Term 4 = Wild Things
Throughout the fire saga, my Term 3 students were awesome. They were supportive and empathic and attentive....almost compliant little creatures who thirsted for my knowledge.
Then the term ended and my Term 4 classes entered.
On the first day of class, I had to pause many times to get their attention. I do not speak while students are speaking, and I usually don't have troubles with that. But these kids are chatty. I also have quite a few special education students in class, and that's no big deal, but when you have 20 kids and 6 are needy it tips the scale against the teacher a bit.
Plus, I do an activity where I assess the students' personality styles on the second day of class and 3/4 of the classes are extroverts this term. I love my extroverts -- hell I'M an extrovert, but wow, these kids have ENERGY! It takes all my years of experience to keep myself calm, and try to focus the kids on the lesson at hand. I just flail my arms and speak animatedly and PAUSE when I don't have their attention. Then, if that doesn't work, I take the offenders into the hallway for a little folksy chat -- always giving them a choice of settling down or removing themselves from class. I don't kick kids out, they kick themselves out, as my hubby always says.
So, I will end the school year by working my ass off, it appears. What happened to my little sponges who hung on my every word? Oh well, this too shall pass...and I love them all anyway, so I'm sure it'll be fine.
Oh one other side-note: I went to the local middle school today to visit their student council, who held a can deposit drive for us. The little shits raised over $1,200 for our family -- and as I told them the story of the fire and accepted the donation, I almost cried for the first time.
Almost....I'm sure the floodgates will open eventually, but for now, I'm just concentrating on moving forward. And moving forward we are.
Then the term ended and my Term 4 classes entered.
On the first day of class, I had to pause many times to get their attention. I do not speak while students are speaking, and I usually don't have troubles with that. But these kids are chatty. I also have quite a few special education students in class, and that's no big deal, but when you have 20 kids and 6 are needy it tips the scale against the teacher a bit.
Plus, I do an activity where I assess the students' personality styles on the second day of class and 3/4 of the classes are extroverts this term. I love my extroverts -- hell I'M an extrovert, but wow, these kids have ENERGY! It takes all my years of experience to keep myself calm, and try to focus the kids on the lesson at hand. I just flail my arms and speak animatedly and PAUSE when I don't have their attention. Then, if that doesn't work, I take the offenders into the hallway for a little folksy chat -- always giving them a choice of settling down or removing themselves from class. I don't kick kids out, they kick themselves out, as my hubby always says.
So, I will end the school year by working my ass off, it appears. What happened to my little sponges who hung on my every word? Oh well, this too shall pass...and I love them all anyway, so I'm sure it'll be fine.
Oh one other side-note: I went to the local middle school today to visit their student council, who held a can deposit drive for us. The little shits raised over $1,200 for our family -- and as I told them the story of the fire and accepted the donation, I almost cried for the first time.
Almost....I'm sure the floodgates will open eventually, but for now, I'm just concentrating on moving forward. And moving forward we are.
Sunday, March 22, 2009
Guilty feelings and Insurance companies
So, we decided to pay rent each month in addition to utilities. We don't want to be freeloaders. We have jobs and we have a little savings and no real credit card debt, so we are better off than the average American right now.
But something strange started happening to us during all the frigid treks between the Cadillac and the farm house. We started to feel guilty for all the stuff we were getting: especially the cash. A local TV station had run our fire story as a way to get people to be aware of fire prevention, because apparently there have been many many fire deaths so far this year. They also ran our bank information and a plea for donations to us.
So we were accumulating quite a bit of cash, and didn't feel we deserved it. We had gift cards amounting to thousands of dollars also, which we used immediately to replace basic needs. We also made 4 long-ass trips to the local china-mart where we spent over a thousand per trip. Ever wandered around a department store after you have lost everything? Not a good feeling -- what do you buy first when you need everything?
Meanwhile, our insurance companies (yes, two companies, one for the house replacement and one for the contents of the house) were duking it out and we were left with a measly $2,500 advance to buy shit.
So, we knew we needed the donations just to put gas in the car and food in our bellies, but we still had this nagging sense that other people should be getting the donations instead of us. Being a charity case is a trip -- one that I don't want to go on again for a long time.
But thank you if you donated to us, because the ebil (yes, I said ebil) insurance company didn't pay up for 6 weeks after the fire. You see, the bitch went on vacation for two weeks and they evidently don't cross-train their workers. I won't mention the insurance company's name, but they do insure the majority of retired military officers in this country.
And when it's all said and done, and all the thank-you's have been sent, when life gets back to normal, and when the next family has a tradgedy -- we will have insight into their situation. We have grown because of this discomfort I'm sure. Being needy is a real eye opener, fer sure.
The generosity of others is something to be cherished and never taken for granted. The stupidity of insurance companies, on the other hand, is something to look at. Like why did I get interrogated by our own insurance company's liabilty people, on tape, about all the ways WE could have started the fire? Rumours already flew about our small town the night of the fire -- rumours that son #2 started it accidentally -- and this just added insult to injury.
Guess I picked a bad year to quit sniffing glue, to steal a phrase from the movie "Airplane."
But something strange started happening to us during all the frigid treks between the Cadillac and the farm house. We started to feel guilty for all the stuff we were getting: especially the cash. A local TV station had run our fire story as a way to get people to be aware of fire prevention, because apparently there have been many many fire deaths so far this year. They also ran our bank information and a plea for donations to us.
So we were accumulating quite a bit of cash, and didn't feel we deserved it. We had gift cards amounting to thousands of dollars also, which we used immediately to replace basic needs. We also made 4 long-ass trips to the local china-mart where we spent over a thousand per trip. Ever wandered around a department store after you have lost everything? Not a good feeling -- what do you buy first when you need everything?
Meanwhile, our insurance companies (yes, two companies, one for the house replacement and one for the contents of the house) were duking it out and we were left with a measly $2,500 advance to buy shit.
So, we knew we needed the donations just to put gas in the car and food in our bellies, but we still had this nagging sense that other people should be getting the donations instead of us. Being a charity case is a trip -- one that I don't want to go on again for a long time.
But thank you if you donated to us, because the ebil (yes, I said ebil) insurance company didn't pay up for 6 weeks after the fire. You see, the bitch went on vacation for two weeks and they evidently don't cross-train their workers. I won't mention the insurance company's name, but they do insure the majority of retired military officers in this country.
And when it's all said and done, and all the thank-you's have been sent, when life gets back to normal, and when the next family has a tradgedy -- we will have insight into their situation. We have grown because of this discomfort I'm sure. Being needy is a real eye opener, fer sure.
The generosity of others is something to be cherished and never taken for granted. The stupidity of insurance companies, on the other hand, is something to look at. Like why did I get interrogated by our own insurance company's liabilty people, on tape, about all the ways WE could have started the fire? Rumours already flew about our small town the night of the fire -- rumours that son #2 started it accidentally -- and this just added insult to injury.
Guess I picked a bad year to quit sniffing glue, to steal a phrase from the movie "Airplane."
Angels that roam the earth
I teach, as has been previously established. About a week after the fire, one of my former students came to my classroom and said her mother had a house they wanted to donate to us. Apparently, her mother and sisters and she had moved in with the boyfriend, and they had a furnished house just sitting there.
They offered it rent-free, and we'd pay the gas/electric. What the hell? People offering their homes to us, in addition to all the donations we had received? We were truly overwhelmed with the kindness of others, and we were very eager to find a place of our own until we figured out what we were going to do about our home.
So, we moved to the big city. The house burned down on a cold, blustery winter day, and we moved three pick-up loads full of stuff to the rental house from the farm during a snow storm.
Picked a hell of a month to become a house fire statistic, that's all I can say.
They offered it rent-free, and we'd pay the gas/electric. What the hell? People offering their homes to us, in addition to all the donations we had received? We were truly overwhelmed with the kindness of others, and we were very eager to find a place of our own until we figured out what we were going to do about our home.
So, we moved to the big city. The house burned down on a cold, blustery winter day, and we moved three pick-up loads full of stuff to the rental house from the farm during a snow storm.
Picked a hell of a month to become a house fire statistic, that's all I can say.
Going Backwards
When one is 45, one should not go back and live with the parents. That is the simple rule. No matter how much you love your parents, you should not share living space with them once you have grown up.
In our case, we do love the mother-in-law/mother. She is cool beyond words, sharper than the average tack, and very accommodating. When our house burned down, she immediately offered us space in her home. Even as the fire raged, we knew we weren't really homeless because we could go out to the farm and be with her.
We had offers of a local hotel and offers of houses to stay in, but there was really never any question where we would stay. As we trudged back to the farm the night of the fire at 10 p.m., it felt like we were going home in a way -- albeit a temporary home, but a home none-the-less.
The only problem is that we were schlucking in donations every day, and her house was getting cluttered with our new stuff. She has been a widow for 10 years now, and she definitely had her home in order, just like she liked it. Plus, we are not poor, so I think she didn't really approve of all the donations of cash and clothing we were getting. These are not big deals, but they weighed on our minds heavily.
Couple that with the fact that my hubby is now 48, and being back home with his mother made him feel like an insecure teenager all over again. He tip-toes around his moods and hers, and he couldn't relax. We were upstairs, so we couldn't relax because we thought our footsteps might disturb her below. She couldn't watch her favorite TV shows undisturbed because we were there.
I don't think she minded us being there as much as we thought she minded us being there. We tried to get a rental home in our small town, but none were available. Then the angel from heaven came to save us.
Two weeks of going backwards was now to meet a glimpse into the future.
In our case, we do love the mother-in-law/mother. She is cool beyond words, sharper than the average tack, and very accommodating. When our house burned down, she immediately offered us space in her home. Even as the fire raged, we knew we weren't really homeless because we could go out to the farm and be with her.
We had offers of a local hotel and offers of houses to stay in, but there was really never any question where we would stay. As we trudged back to the farm the night of the fire at 10 p.m., it felt like we were going home in a way -- albeit a temporary home, but a home none-the-less.
The only problem is that we were schlucking in donations every day, and her house was getting cluttered with our new stuff. She has been a widow for 10 years now, and she definitely had her home in order, just like she liked it. Plus, we are not poor, so I think she didn't really approve of all the donations of cash and clothing we were getting. These are not big deals, but they weighed on our minds heavily.
Couple that with the fact that my hubby is now 48, and being back home with his mother made him feel like an insecure teenager all over again. He tip-toes around his moods and hers, and he couldn't relax. We were upstairs, so we couldn't relax because we thought our footsteps might disturb her below. She couldn't watch her favorite TV shows undisturbed because we were there.
I don't think she minded us being there as much as we thought she minded us being there. We tried to get a rental home in our small town, but none were available. Then the angel from heaven came to save us.
Two weeks of going backwards was now to meet a glimpse into the future.
Saturday, March 21, 2009
One Long Day
The first few weeks after the fire seemed to be one long day. We said that for three weeks, actually. Each day consisted of going to work, and then getting donation after donation after donation: the caddy was packed with stuff every day throughout that time.
Food. Clothing. toys. Toiletries. Dishes. Everything.
We needed everything.
And did we get everything, man. Two communities reached out to us, the one we live in and the one we teach in. People came out the woodwork to donate money and stuff. It's funny when you have no stuff how much you appreciate stuff.
We lived with hubby's mom for two weeks before we found a rental property that was furnished. Now that's another story.
Food. Clothing. toys. Toiletries. Dishes. Everything.
We needed everything.
And did we get everything, man. Two communities reached out to us, the one we live in and the one we teach in. People came out the woodwork to donate money and stuff. It's funny when you have no stuff how much you appreciate stuff.
We lived with hubby's mom for two weeks before we found a rental property that was furnished. Now that's another story.
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