June 9, 2009

  • Ready for Anything

    . . . prepared for nothing.

    I was not prepared this afternoon for the news that I have to log an average of twenty minutes per call for the hotline in the next week or they will drop me.  Two-thirds of the calls I have taken were apparent prank calls that hung up as soon as they connected, or after saying just a few words  Two-thirds of the remaining third of my callers terminated their calls in 3 to 6 minutes.  If this pattern holds, then in the one call out of nine when I get a chance to do a reading, I’m going to have to s-t-r-e-t-c-h it long, or my career as a telephone psychic is going to be short. 

    I’m ready to let this gig go if that’s what happens, and I’m ready to do what I can to keep it from happening.  After consultation with my immediate superior, I learned that I’ll have a greater chance of getting calls if I’m working the wee small hours of the morning.  Knowing this three weeks or so ago, when I first talked to her about hours and scheduling, would have given me some time to adjust my sleep pattern, but I haven’t been sleeping much at night anyway.  This close to the summer solstice, nights are what in Siberia are called, “white.”   Darkness is brief now, and two weeks from now midnight will be twilight.  Endless wakefulness is almost more natural than sleeping.

    After my conversation with the supervisor, I changed my posted schedule and lay down for a nap, preparing to get up in the middle of the night to log onto the hotline.  Hearing a noise outside, I looked out and saw Doug carrying the two big tarps we had bought to cover the roof.  I heard him go up the ladder and assumed that he was going to start getting things ready for the roof work.

    Lying there letting myself drift off to sleep, I was not prepared to hear him hammering.  Hammering in itself would not have been especially alarming, except that it was at the northeast corner of the house, right over my bed.    The logical place to start that job is at the west end.  That’s where we started all three previous times we’ve done this job.  Even if he had started at the other end, there were several things that needed to be done first, before the hammer-and-nails part of the job begins.

    I jumped out of bed, unprepared, but ready to charge up onto the roof and provide the necessary supervision to see that the job got off to the proper start.  Then I went back, crawled across the bed, and got my glasses.  I grabbed my shoes and went outside, where Doug finally heard me shouting.  I didn’t mention, did I, that I’d been asking him all along, at the top of my lungs, what he was doing?  After I finally got his attention and the hammering stopped, I told him to wait a sec until I got my shoes on and I’d come up there and help him.

    We sat there on the roof in the gloriously warm sunshine (He thought it was too hot, but he was born in Alaska so what does he know about hot?) and watched the first of the year’s dragonflies, still skinny little hatchlings, swooping after mosquitoes.  Violet-green swallows were swooping and calling higher overhead, doing the same thing:  nourishing themselves while rescuing us from swarms of blood-suckers.  The swallows’ arrival and the hatching of the dragonflies always come just in the nick of time as we are about to be driven buggy.

    Doug sulked a while at my interference, then thought about it and realized that his partial, shoddy, Mickey Mouse (his words in retrospect) plan had not been adequate.  Then we got to work.  The tarp was dragged to the other end of the roof.  A few of the ropes along each side, holding down the old tarp at the west end, were untied at both top and bottom.  One end of each rope was tied into a grommet of the new tarp, which had been swiftly nailed down along the west end of the roof.  We got that back end secured with three ropes on each side before we tucked the remaining loose end of tarp under and quit for the evening, around 9 PM.

    I came in and was preparing to log onto the hotline for my night’s work, when the Old Fart phoned for our evening conversation.  My working nights and sleeping days is going to change our relationship.  I don’t yet know how we’ll adjust to it.  We are accustomed to talking together at least twice a day on most days.  On weekdays he saves his precious and few anytime cell minutes by calling me around noon from free phones at the Big Lake Public Library or the Wasilla office of our credit union.  Weekends, on our cheap and plentiful off-peak minutes, we might call each other six or ten times a day.  Living at opposite ends of this valley, we have a lot in common with some bi-coastal couples.

    Adjusting to change is easier for me.  Greyfox likes to plan in advance and prepare for things, so he’s seldom ready for rapid or unexpected change.  I’m mostly unprepared, but always ready.

Comments (10)

  • The supervisor left you rather uninformed…  Oh how I love when bosses do that.

    It’s been ages since I saw a dragonfly.  My grandparents used to have plenty of them, since they had a pond.  They filled in the (man-made) pond and I haven’t seen one since.  I’m considering putting up bat houses to keep the skeeters in check, and also because I like bats. 

  • @lupa - I love bats, too.  They have it rough around here in winter, with no source of liquid water.  Twice, bats got into my house and drank from the pan of water I keep warm on top of the woodstove.  Greyfox freaked… it was back when he still lived with me.

  • @SuSu - LOL!  It never fails to amaze me how much people will freak over anything rodent-like.  The first time I saw this was when I was in the 5th or 6th grade.  A mouse found its way to our classroom, and was sniffing along the wall, probably trying to find the exit.  The entire classroom FREAKED. OUT.  Especially the nun teaching the class!  The freaked out nun was hilarious all by herself. 

  • No advice asked for, so none given. But I enjoy readingyour poss – trials, tribulations, the whole 9 yards.

  • I should call and ask for you.  How much do they charge per minute?

  • There is a phrase “the wrong place at the wrong time”..possibly that is such a sad lie.  If you are able to bend and adapt, then is there ever such a case as that happening?  This is why I like this post.  It seems you are working with the moment you have at hand.  I believe anyone getting your services are going to get their money’s worth and a bit more…good luck.

  • @butshebites - I’m not “there” anymore (I’ll be blogging about that in a minute), but even when I was there, you couldn’t have asked for me.  I was required to use an alias, and contractually prohibited from giving any identifying info to customers.

  • I smiled when I read your description of Greyfox having to prepare for change and you do not. Opposites attract so it seems you and I would be good friends. I hate change…it scares me..so I have to plan each move and half the time stuff happens that I have no control over…go figure. I like this post. Greyfox is lucky to have you in his life and this post seems to say he knows that. My hat’s off to you both!!

  • Sounds like you have enough going on to keep things interesting as usual :) I still miss it up there, but for all the roller coaster that is, inclusive of the ups and downs, I rather like this getting around everywhere. I’ll just have to make my way back there sometime and say hi to everyone :O

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