found other stuff

 Decided it was time to get an exterminator in for the mouse issues, also today I saw what might be a suspicious mud tube on the foundation (suspicious for the beginning of termites). I had never seen one before, but I knew what it was, so I called the exterminators right away and scheduled an inspection. Yeah, the hits keep on coming and I wonder if there's a point where I declare the house a loss, rent an apartment and.....sell my piano, I guess? and most of my stuff? I don't know. I hope it genuinely is the start of a problem that can be fixed. 

At least this week is the first I saw the tube so I am really hopeful that means it's just starting. And no, I haven't seen any "alates," ever, so again - I'm hoping this is brand new and can easily be ended, without tenting the house. I had been told "the depth of your concrete foundation means termites are extremely unlikely" but I guess that was wrong. (I should have had someone in all along and it's on me if the whole house is rotten and I lose my house)

So anyway, between that and some other stuff, I spent about a half hour (all the time I had after being over at school) rage-cleaning in the guest room and sorting books again.

And I found stuff. Found a lot of books I can dispose of, found one that had been damaged and just had to be thrown out. But I also found a funny little jack-o-lantern bookmark (felt on a strip of Aida cloth) that my mom made for me one October and now that I've lost one parent and am all too aware I won't have the other one forever, I get weirdly sentimental about these things. (Luckily it was undamaged and had been away from where the mouse was)

I also found a stack of photos from a trip they took to Alaska - this must have been 2002 or 2003. Back when my dad was still pretty mobile and in good health. I probably won't keep most of them, the ones that are just scenery aren't great (taking out the window of a motorcoach or the boat they were on) but there's one of my dad getting to pet a sled dog and my mom feeding a reindeer and I want to keep those. And I admit it made me a little sad - all those trips they never got to take because my dad's knees went bad. But also sad, because, like my friend Wanda says, it's not just that you miss the person, you miss the times you had with them and that's true - those times will never come again. I remember a few times when I was in grad school my parents took trips places and I stayed at their house and cared for the cats while they were gone (and later, after I moved here, they had a friend who could take care of them). 

Here they are each getting to say "hi" to a sled dog. I didn't realize sled dogs were socialized to be friendly but I guess these were

 

The color's bad in this one, but it's my mom feeding a reindeer. At first I thought it was a bottle and a baby reindeer but I think it's a juvenile one and she has a little container of grain to give it

And here's my dad at some early 00s Christmas, when he was still more mobile and in good health.

And all the stuff - worrying about the house, worrying about the mice, worrying about if I have enough funds to cover the re-siding and whatever repair that involves, and then feeling sad over the old photos - that's partly a function of being alone. Literally the only people I spoke to today were my mom over facetime this evening, and the scheduler at Terminex over the phone. I went in to campus and worked but I was the only one there (offices are closed Fridays in the summer) and no one was around in the neighborhood and I didn't go to the grocery store, even. And so my head gets stuck in a one-inch frame and bad things look a lot worse. I don't know how people whore are genuine hermits do it. I'm also realizing I'm not a typical introvert - I still don't like crowds and it wears me out to be in a place where it's loud or I don't know most of the people, and I'm still anxious about meeting people - but I also get sad and weird if I don't talk to anyone in a day. But I fear that's just summers for me now. 

I am trying to conserve money as strictly as I can, and also not bring more junk into the house, so going out to like the quilt shop is out of the question. And anyway, construction is so horrific right now, both in town and on the interstate, that going anywhere to shop feels undesirable. I have to admit I'm having big "summer 2020" feelings again, where I went about six or eight weeks without really interacting with another human being in person. I'm feeling hard the "being lonesome is like smoking 15 cigarettes a day" today :(