Disposable Clothes

What day is this?  Well, it has been a week since the house fire, but not yet a week since I returned to survey the wreckage.

My initial insurance check has still not arrived–apparently “overnight” to Western MN is like, two or three days.  That puts me in a bit of a limbo in terms of cleaning out the house: I don’t want to use my own savings to pay for things that should be covered–like the almost-five-hundred-dollar dumpster fee and the storage shed.

It will come.

I keep thinking, well, I could just go over and do this one thing or that, and then I realize what even small things would entail.  I wouldn’t have anywhere to put the smoky, dirty, damaged anything. I need some dust masks. Boxes. Saw horses and plywood to make tables.

The adjuster (or was it the sheriff? or the fire marshal? or the inspector? so many involved…) told me to wear “disposable clothes” when I went in to start cleaning.  I’m thinking, umm, I hardly have any clothes right now, period. So, should I drive over there naked, walk in, and put on the sooty, smoked-up stuff in my dresser drawers in order to work in there?

Just kidding.  But it would be kind of funny.

I’m trying to get back to work–we had a big local foods strategy meeting last night which was way too long, way too complex, but miraculously (OK, it wasn’t THAT bad) some important work got accomplished.  We definitely have a better sense where people’s passions and commitments lie in terms of the various projects.

Otherwise, still living in the little Scamp trailer on the farm, and trying to find an actual house to rent in or near Clinton. If you hear of anything, let me know. Also trying to keep on top of the produce–another round of squash went in the dehydrator this morning.

The dog is a special project out here–I love how loyal she is most of the time, but whenever I leave the fenced area to go in the house, she starts barking.  That sets the house dog off, and then they trade barks for half an hour or so.

She has to be in the fenced area because she’s a terrible cat-chaser.  Actually, she’s gotten to the point that she doesn’t get worked up about them during the day, but at night if they approach the fence, she makes a big fuss.  Oh, and if she was out of the fenced area, she would be up at the house door, barking to get in with me.

It’s good to be loved.

It seems to work better to leave the dog inside the Scamp when I go out–she settles down, and it doesn’t get too hot with the roof vents and windows all open. She’s the happiest when I’m in there with her, and her panting (which shakes the whole trailer) starts to subside.

It’s kind of like being rocked to sleep.



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