SAD AND SICK

Alone here and not caring for it. Last night it sounded like the coyotes were in the hallway. Had to get up and turn on the outside floodlights. No sign. Then awoke to violent thunder and rain, padded downstairs to unplug my laptop and phones. Discovered the roof is leaking. Had to deal with thumb tacking plastic sheeting in the attic. 

5 huge boxes in the car ready to UPS to relatives and friends and some woman in Ohio who wants the big verdigris/bronze repro head of Boy On a Dolphin that Peg bought in Delphi in 1964 and we had to schlep back from Greece. Tick. Now need homes for the fucking 9 million Horizon Art Magazines and World History of Art 13 Volumes and will be away to the races. 

Tick also to: 4 big thick Peg Archive files of contracts; 6 boxes Peg Archive fan mail; a personal history of growing up in Meraker Norway, Cousin Hedvig's version (as opposed to Eirik my grandfather's version) , which is winging its way now to Sweden to her daughter or granddaughter, I can't recall; 4 side chairs rubbed down with Scratch-Cover; 1 freezer emptied; letter and $350 check and cremation certificates off to Maple Grove Cemetery in Minnesota (actually re-did letter 4 times, after Bonnie kept pointing out inaccuracies like my dating it 1915 instead of 2015 and so on).

I think my mind is deteriorating at a faster rate here than it does in Suffolk.

The "urn" arrived. It looks fine. Light, too. And vaguely tasteful. Like a stack of 5 leather-bound books with gilt titles, the names of which I will change once I get a gold pen at Staples tomorrow. (I mean, WHAT am I doing? Gold pen? Who cares? WHO is going to read this? ). My friend Giliana suggested the main centered book, slightly thicker than the others, should be entitled "OUR PERFECT DAUGHTER by Mr. & Mrs. O.K. Ronning", which I am more than leaning towards.

The dumpster left. The lady driver had some issues backing down the drive and getting it reattached again to the truck, plus her horn was going the whole time, some kind of short circuit, and for which she apologized.

Met with a new friend who's a realtor in CT but has a summer cabin up here and wants to hold my hand throughout the selling and marketing of the house, which pleases me. Plus she's fun. Also have someone who wants to house sit/caretake if it doesn't sell right away, who works at the General Store down the road. 

I feel sick. Headachey and nauseous. And unbelievably lonely. And kind of fed up with this.