The closest I ever came to d.i.v.o.r.c.e
was the day I shared
my in-real-life daydream. It was easy enough to share as there it sat right
behind the office in all it's splendor. Honestly, I don't even remember how
long the fight went on. Nothing like it in what is now 51 years. We survived!
Truly, I didn't even
realize how much this daydream meant to me. How deeply I wanted it. I could not understand why NO ONE could see my
dream. To all the 'no ones' it was plain and simple
absurdity. It was proof positive that she
had once and for all become certified for the loony bin.
Have you ever ached
in your heart, body and soul for something so much that you thought you might
not survive? In my whole life the only thing that compares was the ache for my
two precious adopted children.
In the end, "what
about the money" question came up. Until
then, I had never told him that I had
stashed about $3500 away from my Mother's inheritance. I was waiting to spend it
in some tangible way on something that I could celebrate her memory every day. My
daydream was a huge creative project and I knew she would have loved it.
Even before the quarrel
was settled, I pursued my daydream.
Immediately, the same day I drove through the proscenium opening on Walker Street, I
pranced across the street to the court house to confirm who owned it and what
it was listed on the tax roll for.
Before our quarrel was settled, I walked down the street and visited the owner of my daydream. I
knew him well. At first, he told me that many others had wanted my daydream and
that it was not for sale. The answer was
no, you can't have your daydream.
I can not remember
how much time lapsed while I was fretting inside and out. However, the need and
the want only intensified. Eventually, the argument calmed mostly after I told
him about my money source. He couldn't argue anymore. But I don't think he ever believed I could
make my daydream come true. I do think he thought I would remain in the
fantasyland.
You know I believe nothing
ever happens before it is time. Well, while I was fretting inside and out, the
City decided to get tough with the property owners and city ordinances
regarding abandoned vehicles and structures.
Knowing this, one day I went back down the street to visit the
friend who owned my daydream. First he told me
that he had 30 days to do something about the property or face a daily fine by
the city. Then, he told me I could have it because it would save him paying
some one to tear it down. I told him I could not do that. He ask how much did I want to pay. I told him $100.00. We shook hands. I left but
returned with my check as fast as I could. We closed the deal. I owned my daydream.
Next up, I had to
contact a house mover. There was a well
known one in the area and I set an
appointment for him to come to my office so I could show him the daydream. I had questions about can he do it? Would he
do it? When can he do it? How much will it cost? etc etc
Oddly, with every
question, he would say, "I want to see
The Man back there" or "I need to talk to The Man in the back
office". I ignored him several
times while I was trying to understand why he thought he needed to see the man
back there. Finally, I realize that he
had never done such business with a women. I gently explained that if he wanted
the job, he would in fact have to talk to me because The Man back there did not
want to have anything to do with my daydream.
We made a deal.
$2000.00 to move my $100.00 shack that sat across the street from the county
courthouse to our country property that was two miles outside the city limits.
We had to wait for
weather and of course I was in line behind others who had daydreams to be moved.
The day finally
came. This is what it looked like.
Moving day was late spring or early summer 1996
Preparation for the move
It broke my heart that the roof had to be torn off due to the height of my daydream.
It was in poor condition but seeing it this way crushed me.
All of the old roof material was put inside for the move.
This is my moving man who thought he needed to see The Man back there.
Ever after this tale was told, certain people who called the office for my dear husband ask for The Man.
On moving day as the truck pulled out, I was right behind it with my movie camera. Unfortunately, that was in 1996 using a camera that recorded on VHS tape.
I took almost 4 hours to move my daydream from town to the country. It took me eight minutes to make the trip every day.