It's My Birthday Potty!

 

It's my Birthday Potty!

What's the best birthday gift your ever received? 

For me it is difficult to name a specific present over the last 65 years, but on this, my 65th birthday, I got an item which ranks high on my wish list and high in enjoyment. I got an indoor flush toilet installed. Whoop-Pee! 

As has been chronicled here, I've been living an isolated existence since October, 2020 (13 months and counting) in an old travel trailer on the construction site where my new home is being built. I paid $140 per month for a rental port-a-potty sitting next to my trailer home to be serviced once a week. 

The construction of the home had progressed enough by November to have the floors installed. And once the tile on the bathroom floor was down, the next thing in the building sequence was the ability to have an indoor flush toilet installed. Actually, a special request was made, and granted, by the plumber to deliver and hook up a single toilet. The plumber would prefer to not make several trips out to my house for fixture installation, rather, he'd prefer to wait for my floors and my counter tops to be installed first, then return to put in all of my sinks, faucets, toilets, garbage disposal, dish washer and water heater all at the same time.

As a favor, he agreed to make a special trip to put in one single potty in the master bathroom. It was a special birthday for me, I was flush with excitement when the plumber scheduled to show up on Wednesday, the 23rd.

Oh crap! When I returned from lunch on Tuesday the 22nd, I discovered that my port-a-potty had been removed prematurely a day too soon. Greenhaus rental had been notified that they were to pick up their outhouse on Friday, the 25th.  Yet, ahead of the Thanksgiving holiday, they came and took what was their's three days ahead of schedule, leaving me in the lurch - or out in the forest, where I could be said to be left in the larch. 

Was I back to au natural, using the woods like the proverbial bears? Yes, I was - but for how long? I hoped against hope that the plumber and his throne of porcelain would arrive soon. But how long must I wait?

Some autumnal mornings here in NW Washington the temperature dipped to 19 degrees (F), making for some frosty sittings. 

The plumber did arrive as scheduled - on my 65th birthday. 

Turning 65 and raking in all of those senior discounts and ditching Obamacare and using my Medicare eligibility would be an eventful milestone; but all of that paled to the visceral comforts of receiving an indoor flush toilet at age 65.

I treated myself to a lonely teriyaki beef dinner for my 65th birthday, served on a styrofoam takeout container.  

My birthday has passed, and so has my birthday dinner. The former passed totally uneventfully, the latter has passed in a most civilized style.

It's my potty and I'll cry if I want to. 

 

Frosty Flora

 It often escapes me, but there are plenty of things, small things, regular things that come with each day that I believe I should rejoice in.

It must be the weight of the hard things that makes them settle to the bottom. I'm told it is only natural to start at the bottom and then work your way up. So easy to feel like I'm at the bottom when I've been living in a small trailer for fourteen months, living in isolation, existing far away from my best girl, far away from her in so many ways. Eating microwave meals every night and bedding down not long after the sun slips away. It is difficult to not even be sure where home is for me. My soul sinks and rattles at the bottom with all of those hard things.

Then comes a frosty sunrise. The eastern light blazes through the bare limbs of the alder and cotton wood at the edge of Pilchuck Creek. I rise in the light for I need to open the gate for contracting crews to come build my house. 

The house, still a construction site, but edging toward completion...

A month ago, the autumnal maples dressed in a seductive red one October morning and delighted me with their fine, fancy colors outside the guest bedroom window. Fall has a tinge of melancholy, bidding farewell to summer's abundance but offering a crisp air of expectations, heralding the coming changes that fill so many senses. Autumn is rich in harvest tastes, rich in color, rich in thankfulness for what has come high in the summer.   

Red October surrounds shows around the Pilchuck

Now a month beyond the scarlet October's foliage, I find myself waking into a frosty November landscape, the long, dark night let the chilled fog slink into the trees and grasses.

With the sun comes hope and a magical change; all the world is shine with tiny encrusting diamonds which have grown on every surface overnight. Bright rays dispel the charming fog, giving me that crisp, enchanting view of the land. 

I rejoice in small things. I have been granted a new day, I rise from my warm sleeping bag and land of my feet with good health, and an abundance of small blessing of family, a faithful wife, a couple of kind kids who are nothing but joy and a chance to build a home that was once but a dream.

I grab my camera and look at the fields around me through the view-finder. A camera in hand, held to my eye, gives me a refined focus on the world. I adjust the settings as I stop and stoop into this dazzling, sunlit world as I make my way to the gate 1/6 of a mile down the graveled driveway. 

I capture the charm of the frosty flora before it melts away like fairy gifts. I am delighted and captivated by the simple beauty.

I share it with you.

Autumnal grasses grow silver

Encrusting crystals of ice dazzle my eyes