Why I Have a Hardware Store Phobia

Yesterday morning I woke early from yet another nightmare. I read through some Psalms before the day began, but after those encouraging thoughts, I began paying the bills, which put me in a foul mood. As we spend several thousands of dollars a month on an empty house that will not sell, it seems hard to know where to begin to pay the bills, but, as with all things, I suppose we must do what we can and expect God to make up the rest. (It struck me as mildly infuriating that our electric bill for the empty house was $100 last month--$100 for something I don’t even have! Argh!)

So Phil and I decided that I should drive in to Johanna Bush’s house most days to work off her internet, at least until we get electricity. The most hopeful thing I’ve heard in some time is that one of our neighbors is getting satellite internet; she can be the guinea pig. Perhaps it will work for her! How wonderful to have an internet connection in my own house again.

The electrical situation, that I was so hopeful would soon be resolved, is delayed yet again. After calling for two or three days for the electrical guy to give us a date, Phil finally got through. “Oh,” said the man, “you actually need to have your pole in place. Then you can call us, and we’ll come the next day and make sure that it is where it needs to be, and then you get on the schedule, maybe nine days later or so.”

So we’re looking at electricity in mid-October, at the earliest. (The good thing is, that is right around the first frost date, so we will hopefully have heat by the time we need it!) Phil reminded me that we won’t automatically have running water when we get electricity: there is trenching and piping and other things that must happen first.

I would not have predicted this process to be so onerous, but I’m thankful we started when we did! Good grief!

The metal storage shed had been giving us fits. Phil decided it was worth a try to excavate under the sides. I used a long pole as a lever to hold the sides up, and he trenched under them. The half hour or less of digging was enough that he was able to finish the whole thing! (Except for some minor bits, which I’ll get to later.) He backfilled the lined trench on the outside, and within about five minutes, it started to rain, in a(nother) real torrential downpour. I was excited to have some water in my five gallon buckets, but, sadly, the wind was a bit too gusty, and most of the water whooshed off the tarps. Still, rain is good!

This morning, as it was still raining, we laughed to see the sheep standing outside, and the goats huddled under their shelter. The difference between a fleece and a hair coat.

We were eating breakfast when we had a knock at our door. FedEx delivery! And UPS came, too, so now we know that, despite our unofficial street address (which we made up, because you can’t get a real address without a permitted building, hence the issue with the driver’s license place), we can get packages! It makes me feel more grounded.

One of the minor undone bits on the shed is the doors. They aren’t hung. The package shorted us 21 “countersunk bolts.” I know that quite well because the first time I went to the hardware store, I had assistance, and purchased bolts that WEREN’T countersunk. So today I again headed to the hardware store.

Now, I have a long-standing phobia about hardware stores. (What?! Another phobia? Who knew? Here’s the story: the last Saturday I was in Boulder before leaving for Idaho to attend my junior year of college, Phil wanted to look at cabinets for his kitchen remodel. We went to Lowe’s to look, and ended up being helped by an old man who was V-E-R-Y S-L-O-W. He helped us for THREE HOURS. By the end, I was about to pull my hair out. And I was extremely hungry. So we went across the parking lot to Chili’s, where I ordered an appetizer because I needed food NOW. When my broccoli cheddar soup arrived, I was scarfing it when Phil suddenly knocked the soup off my spoon. That was a bit odd, but I got another spoonful, and he knocked it off again. “Stop stealing my food!” I yelled loudly. This is now a family joke, but the idea of going into a hardware store still sends cold shivers up my spine.)

Today I had to admit to the clerk that I am hardware store incompetent and purchased round-head bolts, not countersunk, so could I please have store credit or something so I can get the right ones? I searched for quite some time in the fasteners aisle, and had just about reached the point of panic and tears, when a kind man came and helped. He found the countersunk bolts in a box that was labeled “round,” so I was not actually incompetent—the store’s system itself was difficult.

In the end, all the trauma didn’t matter because the head of the bolts weren’t quite large enough. Argh!

Phil and I moved the goats and the sheep, and there is little that is so beautiful as seeing animals in new pasture. They just gulp the forage down so happily.