Saturday, December 20, 2008

resting on air

resting on air
Originally uploaded by mygothlaundry
Here are the stilt houses, seen from beneath. Freaky, no? I drive by these things every day and they never fail to wig me out. Just last night, though, I realized one of the central issues I have with them (besides the way they would kick my acrophobia into high gear, they way they must rattle and shake when a train goes by underneath, the fact that they have no yards and float in the air unsteadily and the way that a single lunatic with a serious hack saw, not to mention Mother Nature's little cousin Mud Slide, could bring them down) is that there are no pipes underneath them. No pipes = no drains. Where are the drains? Are the stilt house dwellers such rarefied and airy creatures that they do not shit? Don't do dishes? Don't brush their teeth as their cats leap to the sink to watch the water going down? Or what? Where do the drains go? The only solution I can come up with is that they run horizontally through the concrete slabs that form the airborne driveways. That's going to be super fun if when they get clogged up. Yeah. Super fun.

The QOB is dying to get into one of these houses and look around and so, frankly, am I. This will be slightly more difficult, logistically, because, and hold onto your hats, boys and girls, the QOB has moved out. She is living in her very own house, alone (eep) about five blocks away from me. Yeah, I know - it scares the hell out of me too but she would not give up, would not admit that she might need help, angrily refused help and in the way of water wearing away stone and all that stuff I finally gave in and said, okay, go and live alone then.

She's not all that alone - C is with her five days a week for four hours a day, I'm over there at least once a day, my brother's over there once a day and I'm hoping to have workmen and my friend A and so on in and out of there regularly as well, not to mention the physical therapists and speech therapists and occupational therapists and social workers that will be buzzing around as well. Hopefully that will be enough. L the really nice social worker said, look, she is legally an adult, even if you do hold power of attorney and etc., and yes, she is the single stubbornest person any of us have ever met and yes, she does need a lot of help and is refusing it and, well, sometimes all you can do is your best and then back away a bit. So I am doing that with my fingers crossed and the guilty but somehow relieved knowledge that I can start cooking things that you have to chew again now and keep the bathroom light off at night.

A and I moved the last of her stuff over to her house this afternoon and set everything up. C had gotten the phone connected and the cable going and then my brother B went over and programmed the phone so all she has to do is hit one number to reach me or my brother or A and I'm going to glue our pictures on the phone so she won't even have to read, which can be hard for her sometimes. She's been doing a bit better lately, although as always she kind of comes and goes, and I have hopes. I'm also planning (shhh) to buy her a big fishtank for Christmas. Does she want this? I have no idea but based on her fondness for the Relaxation Station when she was in the hospital, well, she's getting the organic version. I'm looking forward, actually, to hearing her complain about it.

1 comment:

Jeremy said...

I've never seen those houses from that angle; they're scary enough from the front. I truly don't think you could pay me to live in one of those. I'm not afraid of heights, but I'd be sleeping in my car on the street at the hint of the slightest breeze.