Because we have only X’s

My mother is an early riser. When I say this, I don’t mean a 6:00 a.m. moderate riser. I mean a holy fucking, true as true 4:30 to 5:00 a.m. riser. SInce her house is completely open in the middle for three stories and has vents in all of the walls to accomodate the solar air flow, this is hell on those of us who appreciate a bit of shut eye until 6 or so. But for some reason, perhaprs divine intervention, I have been able to sleep until 8:16 for the past three mornings. Yes, I do stir at 4:30 when she clomps down the stairs to prepare her coffee, but then I again slumber off into the bliss of two extra hours of child-free sleep.
This morning when I stirred from my caccoon of happiness, I awoke to find my mother staring at me as she rocked back and forth on her heels. This is not entirely unusual, many mornings she grows restless without company and comes to stare at me until I open my eyes in disgust. However, this morning she was brimming with pent up energy over the many, many things she decided we could accomplish during the day. She was especially excited to have an extra day with me, meaning my child free time to devote to her task lists; the ski mountain is not crowded this weekend due to an uncommonly warm week where the present snow melted and new snow cannot be made due to the warmth -this means I don’t have to work this weekend. So before I had met with the toilet or had a chance to plaster contacts on to my eye balls, she was rattling off the many fun things we would spend our day accomplishing. Oh goody. All this before my morning cup of herbal tea.
So we toiled. We loaded up bags of stuff to take down to the dumpster. We tidied up the patio and packed away the chaises and the cushions. And then. It was time for the hot tub, Up until today I had only sat in the thing. My father was the Tub Guy. He was always tottering about with his caddy of tub chemicals and testing the waters for mold and Cassidy Rash. As soon as we vacated it, he would descend with his caddy while muttering about Ph balances and levels. I always rolled my eyes at him and we all poked fun at his obsession. He knew we mocked his diligence, but he loved that tub of water with a fierceness that we all accepted as a warped sense of normal. In August, two months after his death, the water started to smart a bit when we would sit in it. So we simply latched the lid shut and made a vow that we soon deal with it. Fast forward three months and my mother decided that today was the day we would scratch the hot tub off of our mile long list of Things to Do Now That Pop is Gone. Now when I say we, I don’t really mean third person plural. There is only one person in I. And that I is me. My mother gave me the owner’s manual, half heartedly offered to help and then scurried out of my way.
So I drained, I scrubbed, I uncoiled hoses, I hooked up hoses. Then I congratulated myself and went inside for lunch. After lunch my mom went outside to check on the progress and I heard a strangled cry form her. Now, I have become so uptight since June that anytime I hear any sort of drama, I immediately assume somebody has either died or is in the process of dying. So I ran out on the patio expecting to find my mother suffering from a heart attack. She wasn’t. But it wasn’t good, either. For the tub was steadily filling with yellow water. “Mother fucking shit!” I cried. Yes, in front of my mother. Where the hell did the yellow water come from? Turns out the hot spigot in the dark room sink hadn’t been used for a couple of years. I guess when a faucet isn’t used for awhile then yellow gunk start to lurk in there?
So I had to re-drain the tub, re-vacuum the water, re-scrub the white walls of the offensive yellow scum. Then I searched the house looking for another hot water faucet with a screw thingy on it. None. Not knowing if you can put cold water in a hot tub, I hooked up the hose to an outside faucet and turned on the water, enough was enough. Then I also used every burner to heat water to help offset the cold water thing while the tub filled. So tonight the hot tub is filled with cold, but ever increasingly warm, water. I was worried about the cold water thing in the winter. Yes, I could have done this in August but that would have been far too easy.
While the whole hot tub drama was unfolding, I decided to get out the coiled rolls of fence my father used to pur around all of the bushes so that the deer don’t eat every square inch of bark. Again, it was something that should have been done a couple of months ago. But that handy gypsy man I kept hoping would materialize on our door step? The fucker never showed. So I hauled out the fence and started wrapping the trees. The deer have already gotten quite a few but I think the trees will live. But as I sat there sitting on the fence rolls, cutting more wire to accomdate for growth and trying to figure out which roll went where, I lost it. I was sore. I was tired. And I missed my father. Although I often came up to the house to help him with his projects, he was always the one who led. I just followed along and lent a hand here and there while he chatted. So I sat there on the fencing material and cried as I watched the clouds blow over the mountains. I looked about at the wire, the wire cutters and fencing and wondered what the hell I was doing.
It turns out that I actually got the trees wrapped and the tub cleaned and filled. My mother helped with the tub filters and the support team. It took us all day and we are both exhausted. At the end we sat on the kitchen floor and shared a toast over a glass of wine. We did it. Today we were self-sufficient and successful. We had no men in our lives today, but we survived and we kicked ass. Not too shabby.