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Big Red Feeling Blue

5/28/2013

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Remember a few days ago when my living room/dining room looked like this? 

I was busily turning the table sideways and rearranging the whole layout so that I could have a backdrop that didn't consist of coats hanging up behind me and a corner we use for storage in our closetless little hole in the ground. I felt a little guilty about making this big change while my soon-to-be-husband was away at work, but dismissed that guilt as one of the lovable quirks I have when it comes to being silly with my friends, which was the whole point of needing a backdrop. Matt didn't really care and I didn't turn it back around when we were done our bookclub session, though I had intended to.

Do you know what's fun about living in a small hole in the ground? Do you know what's fun about living in a really old and never been properly maintained hole in the ground? Every now and then you get reminded that that thing you usually refer to as your "house" is actually just a hole in the ground with a few wall-like things put up around you for decoration. It doesn't rain much in Calgary, but June is the rainy season here, and as such, all of that outside world that we pretend is separate from our "house-world" actually comes inside to say hello. Not a huge, "Imma live here now, B*TCH!" kind of "hello," but a subtle, "maybe if I stay quiet no one will notice me and then I can stay here forever" kind of hello. 

We first learned of this last summer when random pools of water would form in the strangest of corners, and never in the same spot back-to-back. So when it started to rain a few days ago, Matt and I inspected all of the known leakable places and were greatly relieved that we had no flooding. That night, as he's coming to bed, Matt says to me, "Did you spill some water in here?" Sure enough, the rug under the bed was damp. We pull the bed out and, sure enough, the rest of the rug is soaking wet and the floor is covered in mud. Yes, not just water, mud, because our walls don't actually connect to anything and thus dirt and insect life tend to let themselves in. It makes me sad, not because we have to clean this up, but because we are just one step away from the kind of living conditions we make fun of Americans for believing we live in. It's not a log cabin in the middle of the tundra, but days like these, I think the cabin would be dryer. 
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Now my living room/dining room looks like this. This rug is the size of my bed. It did not like trying to come out of the bedroom doorway and it certainly did not like being propped up on chairs. 

Mess is all cleaned up now. Matt's prized possessions of framed autographs from our Comic Expo visits were among the casualties, but we got those dried out and sitting on the table until we can figure out a safe place to put them in a hole in the ground with no storage space and all 6 bookcases completely filled. All that remains is the rug. A big fluffy shagg rug. It's supposed to keep raining for the rest of the week. How is rain on your wedding day good luck? Please tell me that rain all throughout my wedding week will be 7x luckier!

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