Chapter 10

After we got the trailer our topics of conversation changed. Where we used to discuss all manner of things about the property, now all I would hear about was what he was doing with the trailer. If I tried discussing something I was doing with the house he would just tell me to be quiet, to zip it. Sometimes it was because he already had too much to think about; other times it was that my plans made no sense. He started telling me that I was delusional, that I didn't really have a good grasp on reality. I thought he was referring to my construction ideas. 

October, then, was time to make a supply run to Northview. Chuck didn't want to go, so he made a list of things he needed, which I bought for him. Instead, while I was away his plan was to go into the basement of the house and run a 220 power line out to the trailer so he could use the baseboard heaters he has installed. It would be getting cold soon.

I go, I shop, 6 hours later I'm back. While I was there I drove by Bernie's, but his camper still wasn't in the driveway.

When I get home Chuck doesn't come out to get his stuff. I unload mine then go over to see what's up. He is in a fervor; his computer is dead. He has been working on it all day, but it's gone.

I tell him not to worry, I'll find him another one. I know how important the internet is to him and I will start looking online for a used computer. I really can't afford to buy him a new one right now, but I know there are lots of good used ones out there. Microsoft just put out a new system so lots of people should be looking to get rid of their older ones. I'll search the local classifieds and then call him if I see one that seems right. If he is interested I will get a phone number he can call and they can talk about it. Then I will go pick it up and pay for it, provided it's only a few hundred dollars.

It took two days to find one. It was at a computer repair shop in Northview. The price was right and it was a very good one, an XP. Once again Chuck didn't feel like going. So, when I was in the shop to pick it up, I put Chuck and the salesman together on my cell phone, to work out any issues. I only wanted to be the delivery person, which I told Chuck several times. I also drove by Bernie's once again. I still saw no camper.

When I later pulled into my driveway, I expected to see a happy recipient of the gift I just gave. Instead, I had to carry the boxed computer to the trailer. This was about 3 in the afternoon. He came to the door, took it, said thanks, and went back in to set it up. I was relaxing outside about 40 minutes later when he yelled across the yard, “Where's the disc?“ He stormed towards me.

“What disc? I asked the salesman if there was a Windows disc and he said he explained to you that you did not need a disc, just the registration numbers, and you agreed to that. You have his phone number. Call him if something isn't right. Don't kill the delivery girl.”

I barely remember exactly what was said next because it just blew my socks off. I swear, those beautiful hazel eyes turned black. He said, “This isn't working out; you never do anything right.” Then he accused me of stealing from him. There was stuff in my house that I had taken from him without even asking. He had never met anyone who could do such a terrible thing, stealing from a poor man.

He mentioned a small stool in my kitchen. I tried to remind him that back in the spring, when he moved out here, he one day filled up his truck with stuff to take to the dump. He was tossing out a little, crappy wooden stool with peeling paint and I said, “I'll take that. I can use it.” So he handed it to me.

Then he says something about the green rugs he saw in my house and how they were his. I obviously stole them on the day I helped him move. I have 3 green rugs and I know, beyond a doubt, that I purchased all 3 of them, because of the drafty floor. He tells me that I am delusional. Now, I was pretty fed up at that point, so I got up and went in. I can't try to talk to him because if I try to talk to him, he tells me not to. Anything I say is just trying to justify my (wrong) actions.

I think about this for a couple of days and tell myself he's just cranky. I've known lots of cranky people in my life. If you love them you just learn to deal with the cranky times by stepping away for a bit. They'll get lonely after a while and get back in touch.

Sure enough, he called and apologized for blowing up. He remembered giving me the stool. He still thought, though, that some of his things were over here.

“Yes, there are things of yours over here.” And there are, but he put them in here when I first bought the place and here they have been for years. Some boards, an old chair, a couple of candles, I don't even know anymore what is whose. No green rugs, though. So I say, “If I give you $200 would you feel compensated for everything and we can just put this behind us and move on?“

“Well...., okay. I have a list though, and I'm going to add it all up. I'll give you the list.”

I still never have seen that list and really have no desire to. But, I go over to give him the money and that's when he tells me that he realizes that he has a brain problem and he has had it before, so he is going to go and get medical help. I just need to stay away from him for awhile because I am part of his problem and he really needs to talk to a psych doc about it.

See? He loves me, he just has trouble admitting it and this sets up an internal conflict. I tell him I think that it is a very good idea to seek help and I will do whatever it takes on my part. Nothing in the world means more to me now than he does.

I started looking online for information about mental disorders. I started in that same chat room where we met, which had a forum about mental health. I wanted to learn more about bipolar disorder. I had read a little about it and realized I had seen the manic/depressive stages in Chuck many times. So I was asking people online for any good websites. I found and read some, plus I made a few new friends. One was a guy who called himself Dog.

I posted:

I don't understand what is going on with my husband to be. He gets in these rages and goes for weeks without speaking to me even though we live in the same place. Then suddenly he'll get all friendly again as if nothing happened. This is putting a lot of stress on me but I really do want to understand what he is going through. I think he might be bipolar. Does anyone have any insights or suggestions that might help us get through this?

Dog wrote back to me in a private message and included an essay he had written a few years prior. It explained how he had been brutally cruel to his family and friends and was finally admitted to a hospital where he was diagnosed with paranoid schizophrenia. After some years of hospitalizations and different drugs and psychiatrists, things finally turned around for him and he was able to become a normal person again who could keep a job and get along with people. He said he hoped his story would give me some hope that my situation could be improved, as well. 

 

I found another website which was all about bipolar disorder and I paid $100 for a book that really explains what you have to do if you want to live and survive with a person with bpd. It's a huge book with lots of information and it says it requires a major commitment. I was willing to make that commitment, though. I love the guy.

I saw him outside one day and he said hello. I asked how he was doing and he said pretty good, except he really wished he was able to use his new computer. I asked why he couldn't use it and he told me it was because he did not have the XP software disc. He was afraid to try to use it, that it would crash and there would be nothing he could do about it. He didn't want all that money I had spent to be wasted.

So, I got online and ordered a new software disc, $300. It was here within 3 days and he was very happy. He even actually kissed me on the cheek when I took it over to him. At long last, it looked as though everything was going to be okay again.

Chapter 13

More snow, more shoveling. In February Chuck sees me outside and tells me to come over. We sit by the wood fire and chat a bit. Then he says, “This came in the mail today. I opened it because it has my name on it, too.” He hands me a large envelope.

It is the marriage application along with a letter of permission. I think I probably said, “Hooray,” or something similar as I read it.

He says, “I would never marry you.”

Something in my brain shut down at that moment, and my soul shattered. I could not think, I could not breathe. I could not process all the things that statement implied. My instinct for fight or flight had never been so strong. But I already knew that trying to fight this was hopeless, so I got up and went home. And cried and cried.

Crying became a way of life. When I went to bed, I'd cry. I cried when I woke up in the morning. In the middle of the day I would curl up into a fetal position on the floor and cry for hours. I couldn't eat. I couldn't stand to listen to music. One day in a store I heard the song “Time After Time” and I had to run out to my van in tears.

I had to do something to save myself, so I turned to my internet friends. I am forever grateful to them for all the help and support they gave me. One day I got a private message from Dog. He told me I had better check out the mental health forum and see what was going on. I went and found that my old post asking for advice about bipolar had moved back up to the top because Chuck found it and replied.

How dare you say those things about me? You are the one who is delusional and needs help, not me. If I ever see you post here again, I will have you thrown out of the country.

Dog posted a reply:

Hey, we had no idea who you were. We are all anonymous here and I think you know that. You are not allowed to threaten people here. We have alerted the moderators. If you have problems with that person, work it out with her. You're obviously in the same place. Stay out of our private sanctuary.

Within a short time all those posts were removed from the board by the site administrators. A couple of people sent me private messages, like this:

Hi. Please Read: My husband used to tell people there was something wrong with me because he was paranoid and projecting. Believe me, I understand.

And:

 That guy sounds seriously dangerous. I think you should get away from there as soon as possible. Be safe.

I wrote to the site administrators and asked if I could be allowed to change my user name, due to the threats. They told me that I could and so I did. Then I was posting and talking to people about other things when I got a private message from Chuck.

You can run but you can't hide

as you wish . .
carry on your delusions
nice try 

Ask anybody in my town that has known me for the last 25 years if they think I need "meds"You are not going to quit trying to convince my friends that I need "help"

Quit stealing from me and lying about what has happened.

I warned you - admit your own faults, and get help.

Leave me alone, and stop lying.

So I quit posting there entirely. Instead I started trying to learn all I could about what I need to do now, to survive. Because I have had some times here recently when I thought that I wouldn't, or didn't want to. I turned to spiritual websites. They told me how important it is to be forgiving. They told me to keep my thoughts positive.

Eventually I started visiting with Chuck now and then in hopes that this would all somehow turn around because I still believed we were meant to be together. I was so depressed, though, I'm not sure now what all I said during those visits. I'm pretty sure I told him I didn't want to live without him. I know I said I'd rather die than go back to my country because I had now become completely discouraged with how insanely corrupt it was. I could no longer relate to those people.

In March I got this message:

Before the snow is gone, I will make sure your van is gone - as that has been your prescribed method of suicide - a topic which you have discussed many times in the last few months.
I have no illusions that I will be able to live out my life here - I have to move on - you will not change, you will not seek help.
I sought help, and got it - and I'm OK with myself.

You steal stuff and make up stories
You do and say things you do not remember
You kicked me out for reasons I do not yet know

I want the keys to your van
I will remove it from in front of your place to over on this side
You refuse, and I will call Customs - they will remove it

Keys to your van
By Friday.

I ain't kidding.

"behaving violently" in MY country and town.
No one will believe that.
except you.
ya right
just try and sell that idea

THINK ABOUT IT

Think? I'm no longer sure I can think. Instead my mind just reels. I cannot get a handle on what I should do. I had let the insurance on the van expire because I expected it to be “ours” soon and would have to get new insurance anyway. Now what do I do? Maybe I am suicidal. I give him the keys. The van gets moved out into the woods, where no one can see it.

What have I got myself into, and how will I ever get out now? Everything I have is here. There's no place else for me to go. My cousin had moved on so that place is gone. There has got to be a way Chuck and I can work this out. We are both human beings, after all.

A couple of weeks later I am getting low on food so I call and ask if he will please give me a ride to town so I can get groceries. He agrees and drops me off a couple of blocks from the store. He tells me to meet him back at the same place when I am done. I was able to get a few things, anyway.

I called Ellen and told her what was going on and she assured me that she would be glad to take me to the store whenever I needed to go. Then I called Phil and he told me the same thing. All I had to do was ask, and help would come. 

 

In April Chuck built a large greenhouse next to the trailer. It's amazing. He used all those big thermal pane windows he had found at the dump. I go over a few times to admire it and we talk about gardening. Last summer I had put in a small garden and grew a few tomatoes, onions, peas and potatoes. The potatoes were a surprise. I had one from the store that had sprouted so I cut it up and planted it. I'd never done potatoes before and I didn't think anything would come of it. Then, in the fall, I was delighted to find I had created about a dozen spuds. The tomatoes were good, too, but it gets cold quickly here so I was really wishing I could have a greenhouse to be able to grow more.

We started having nice, little April showers so one day I pulled the last of the beige carpeting out of my bedroom. I laid it outside just behind the house to get a rain wash. The next day I went to Northview with Ellen to do some shopping. It was late in the day when we got back. When I got up the next morning and looked out my window, the rug had been moved. It was now all the way over by the trailer. I went over and pulled it back to my yard where he could no longer see it.

I saw him outside later so I went over. “How dare you take my carpet! I put that out for a rinse and you just decide to take it for yourself? What is wrong with you?”

“I didn't take it. I just moved it out of the way a little bit so I wouldn't run over it.” (It was nowhere near the driveway.) “I don't like you coming over here and making accusations like that. You clearly aren't thinking straight. Stay away from me!” I left. 

 

Meanwhile, my mom was getting worse all the time. She passed in the first of May. I started getting in touch with all my family then on a daily basis: Dad, Brother, Sister, Aunts, Uncles. Plus long-time family friends and my old friends online. I got many condolence messages and replied to all telling them that I was doing just fine but due to circumstances here I could not possibly travel back down there now to attend the funeral. I rarely left the house over a two-week period.

Then, one day while I was taking the trash out to the road, Chuck saw me and walked over. “Hey, haven't seen you around for a while.”

“Yeah, well, my mom died. I've been kind of busy with that.”

“She died? I didn't even know she was sick. You never tell me nothing about your family!”

 

I was so numb at this point, all I could do was shake my head and walk away.

Chapter 18

News about illegal immigrants had started showing up all the time now, stirring some heated online debates. Here are some posts from Chuck.

Jan. 18

I helped ONE -

just ONE to get themselves illegally into my country

and she has fucked up my life beyond belief.

Jan. 20

yeah - I got one up here I gotta send back

Feb. 28

Interesting phrase, "Sociopaths watch and study real humans " - took me over 4 years to realize that someone close to me does NOT react to logic/reasoning like most of us

I've studied sociopaths for only a few months now, but realize there is only one solution to deal with my own personal situation

have no contact

the lying and stealing still continue,

but I am working towards a solution where this person will no longer be in my environment -

ummm - LEGAL solution I should stress . .

and interesting resource for information and comments on sociopaths I found is at lovefraud.com

One comment I read in there is that one of the safest ways to deal with sociopaths is to treat them like an alien

which in some sort way they ARE

I've also read there is NO CURE for these kind of people - and one's best bet is to JUST GET AWAY

I'm reminiscent of a song called "Man Eater" - "She'll chew you up and spit you out"

Well, in my 58 years, I've never met anyone that fits the bill like this one does

Man eater? I really did have to laugh at that one. Honey, you clearly have no clue what being chewed up and spit out looks like.

I got my electric bill for January: $600. February was $700. In March it dropped to $550.

March 4

I helped a sociopath to get into my country, now she is ruining my life

And I can't believe that my "friends" are still calling her a "nice old lady"

There is a REASON that she came here illegally - they don't get it . .

March 10

Subject: Someone was arrested at a protest and posted about their jail experience.

Last time I was involved with the cops, I refused to talk with them unless they provided me with a lawyer for the 4 hours they held me in lockup

Despite having over 500 bucks in cash, and a fast-food place across the road, and numerous requests and willingness to pay for some food, they refused to feed me

In case it's not apparent, he's talking about the night he was arrested for beating the window out of my house. I'm delusional? No one replied to that post. 

April. I see Chuck walk out to the creek, which is totally against the rules. He had told me to stay away from his yard and he's been told him to stay out of mine. So I take some deep breaths and march out to confront him. There's a piece of carpet out there to keep the entry clear to the little trail that goes down to the creek. He picks it up, shakes it off, puts it back in place. Looked like a sign of peace, or at least a “let's talk,' to me. We really do have to learn to live together here, after all, for the time being. Besides, he's supposed to replace my window. 

 

So, I thank him for shaking the rug and mention what a strange and harsh winter it has been. We discuss the weather for a bit, then it starts to lightly rain. He says he loves the rain and it's warm enough now to be out in it. I agree.

Then it starts to rain really hard, so we run over to his greenhouse, laughing. He offers me a beer. Waves of relief are rushing over me. We talk about summer coming and gardening. I tell him how much I have missed him and worried about him. He tells me that he has been quite ill; something is wrong with his stomach. He is quite sure that it is brought on by the stress of his situation here.

I offer that perhaps his problem is actually mental, and caused by his mother. He replies, “Oh, my mom's not so bad.”

I say I have been pretty stressed out, too. Having a window beaten out of my house is one of the more stressful things I've ever had to deal with.

“I didn't beat the window out, Maria. All I did was knock on the door too hard and the glass broke.”

“Oookay, well, I am very sorry that you have all this stress. I certainly don't want you to 

be ill. It can so easily be remedied, you know. All I ask from you is that you pay for your electricity.”

“Don't even go there, Maria.”

With a sharp intake of breath, I said, “I guess there is nothing else to be said then.” I looked into his eyes and thought, “Fish eyes. It's like looking into dead fish eyes. Empty.” I turned around and walked away.

He called out, “Hey, you forgot to tell me how much you love me.”

Chapter 20

As usual, Chuck just keeps on spouting his venom. He knows I can see these.

July 04

That's my landlady, an illegal in my country, town and life . .

Took her 2 years to finally get me to live on her property, now kicking me out because I refuse to marry her to maker "legal"

Four years it took me to figure out her lack of empathy for the rest of her species

Uses people, then throws them away.

In five years that I have known her, I've seen no communication from her family and friends

She "charmed" me with promises of employment and a place to stay "forever"

"Forever" lasted about 8 months, and she has thwarted my attempts to even move away by increasing my living costs - interfering with friendships of decades, and disconnecting power- hard to even have a proper diet without a fridge/freezer.

In my 58 years of living, I have been taken advantage of many times, as I tend to treat every person on "face" value - not judge them by their sex, race, religion, work history, whatever.

She is definitely the worst human I have known in my whole life.

One thing though, she has guaranteed that she will be forever remembered.

Right up there with Gee Dubya

ponder that

July 10

Long story short -

I'm now living in a trailer on the same property - no electricity, no running water - and she either poaches my friends, or scares them away.

I remember MANY times in our initial conversations, on the web, and on the phone of disconnecting with her for my perception of inconsideration -

that's a polite word

insanity would be a better one.

I should have trusted my instincts 5 years ago -

heck I'm 59 years old

I never hung up or disconnected on ANYBODY before her

but sociopaths are masters of deception.

I remember a young girl of 14 that I was dating when I was 15 years old.

She said "Chuck- you're gonna have a hard life You're too gullible"

I wonder if she had any idea how right she was

Sociopath's are very good at making problems seem "Your fault"

At 59 - I'm surprised I got fooled - well,. I was 54 at the time - the people I introduced her to to try to make her a part of the community are no longer MY friends.

"possession" is part of a sociopath's personality

they don't like to "share"

By this time I had leaned all about a condition called narcissistic personality disorder, npd for short. Now, there are many websites about this horrible disorder and all the things that have happened to people who get in relationships with these types, so I'm not going to try to reinvent the wheel. My hope here is that someone will read this and recognize the behavior, then take appropriate steps to protect themselves. Or maybe someone has already been devastated by such a relationship and will find some helpful information about how to survive afterward.

I'll just offer some of the basic descriptions of the disorder. Goodness knows these red flags waved at me from the very beginning of our relationship, but I had no idea that they were warning signs of such serious danger.  

• An exaggerated sense of self-importance and belief there is nothing they cannot do. Believe they are special, unique, and therefore misunderstood.
• They require excessive admiration. If you don't give it to them, you are not worth their time.
• A sense of entitlement. They think, “I know I'm right, I don't care what anyone else thinks!”
• Selfishly take advantage of others to achieve their own ends. “You’re just lucky I chose you.”
• Lack empathy.
• Often envious of others or believe that others are envious of them.
• Show arrogant, haughty, patronizing, or contemptuous behaviors or attitudes.
  

Many people describe the eyes of a narcissist when he is in a rage, swearing they seem to turn black. Other times, they just seem to be flat and empty, like there is not actually a living being behind them.

 

They frequently employ a type of control called gaslighting. They deny having conversations you know occurred. They turn conversations into never-ending arguments that seem to go around in circles, until you finally just give up. Nothing is resolved and the arguments become more and more frequent, and more and more confusing.

I had some problems with my well pump one time and I asked him for help. He had installed it for me a few years prior. He spent about 5 minutes and got it working again and asked me for $20. He took it and went home, then came back 10 minutes later and started yelling and accusing me of stealing plumbing parts from him. I had no idea what he was talking about. I don't “do” plumbing and hadn't been down in the basement since the pump installation. Evidently he left some things there at the time. I tried to explain that and told him to take whatever he thought was his. But he just told me I was delusional and then he stormed away.

Narcissistic personality disorder is believed to be brought about by parents who do not value their children, so the children have to create their own reality in order to cope; then they never grow out of it. It's very sad, really. Once they grow up there is no pill or therapy available to make this go away. Plus there's the fact that since they think they are perfect, there's no way they will ever admit that they need help. They might admit they are a little depressed or something and get a bit of therapy, but in no time at all they are cured and back to being their perfect selves.

A personality disorder is not the same as a mental illness. A mental illness (schizophrenia, for instance) can be treated, with varying degrees of success, with medications and/or therapy. Most mental illnesses are caused by brain cell synaptic disruptions, which are believed to be genetic in origin. I've read about many people who are bipolar and as long as they take their meds, their symptoms subside and they feel and act relatively normal.

A personality disorder, on the other hand, is all pervasive. The DSM-IV describes a personality disorder as “an enduring pattern of inner experience and behavior that deviates markedly from the expectation of the individual’s culture, is pervasive and inflexible, has an onset in adolescence or early adulthood, is stable over time, and leads to distress or impairment.”

Having a relationship with a narcissist eventually starts to feel like you have been hit by an emotional truck. You find yourself flat on the ground with tire tracks across your heart and shattered glass in your finger tips. The hardest part is realizing you saw the driver of that truck; it was someone you thought you could trust with your life. And he never even gave you a backward glance as he drove away.

The only way to get your wheels back on the track now after being derailed is to stop ALL contact with him. Unfortunately, if you still have to live on the same property, or share child support, you're going to have to do a whole lot of inner work.

The first thing I found that really helped was to learn to have an attitude of gratitude. Initially, you just have to just start saying this to yourself first thing every morning and repeat it throughout the day: “I have an attitude of gratitude.” Then you will find you actually start practicing it. I was grateful for my friends, I was grateful for the food on my plate, I was grateful to be living in such a beautiful place.

Slowly but surely the brain fog will start to clear and you will feel a little better. When you start to feel better, you see that things really are better. From the Love Fraud website (Thanks for telling me about it, Chuck. I got a lot of good advice there.): “What happens when you focus on peace and joy? It reduces your stress, which deactivates your fight or flight response, which allows your body’s natural healing capacity to do its job."

So, I find joy in looking at the sun shining on my frosty windows, making them glint with red and blue. I find joy in looking at the pristine snow outside, sparkling in the sunlight. I find great joy in gardening. I find joy in opening my eyes at night and seeing stars out my window. I have volunteered several times to work at the nursing home when Ellen needed help with some special project. That always gives me joy. I even enjoy chopping and carrying wood. My life is full and it is good.

Another thing I learned is to stop "thinking" i. e., employing logic. Logic just doesn't apply when dealing with a narcissist. Thinking about what's happened will just tie your brain in knots.

Instead, I started meditating. This is what I do: I wake up very early and can see the sky out the window at the head of my bed. I confront the proposition that I can now either lie here and let thoughts about my situation nag at me, or I can choose what to think. I choose to think about my breath, going in, going out. If my thoughts start to wander, I look out at the sky again and concentrate on my breathing. Next, I consciously ask my guardian angels, whoever or whatever they might be, to guide me on my path. Then I get up and go about my day, chopping wood, carrying water.

When the work day is done, I meditate again. People use different body positions for meditation; one of my favorites is the walking position. I walk from window to window, filling my eyes with the glory of nature. Or I go out and walk among the trees. I do not think about things past or future, I consider only where I am right now and what that feels like.

At long last, I feel at peace with myself. I even manage to feel compassion for Chuck. I know he cannot help being what he is. Thankfully, now I also know WHAT he is and that he is to be avoided, forever.

Chapter 22

Still, Chuck continues to post, though no one responds anymore:

June

 I am living on propane and a generator in an 18 foot trailer

100 feet away from a 3-bedroom house occupied by a single person on the same property.

Have not talked with them for over a year, almost a year since they cut the power to my       trailer.

Our social assistance network has not found me other accommodation, despite my efforts to rent another dwelling.

59 years old, worked since I was 19, but now on welfare.

living in a trailer in a field, no electric (unless I'm running my generator) - no running water - and yeah - no bath or shower . . .

and FOOD! - how the hell do you eat half decent without a refrigerator??

Poor Chuck, still hasn't come to grips with the fact that he did this to himself. He continues to believe that someone else is responsible for his problems and now he's waiting for someone else to solve them.

Besides, he thinks he's got problems. My creek quit running in July which was rather alarming. So me and Dee Dee hiked up one day to the source, to see if something was blocking it. She insisted on going with me because she doesn't want me hiking out on the property by myself. Some water was still trickling out from the spring but only enough to go down a little way, then it just dried up. I guess this is what happens after a really dry winter.

My well, too, seemed to be running low and I often had very little pressure After a few minutes it would quit running entirely and I'd have to wait about half an hour to get more water. Filling my outside tank took hours, where it used to fill in just 20 minutes. Fortunately, Dee Dee's water was fine so I started getting jugs of water from her.

We had frequent rain showers and my rain barrels collected enough water to keep my garden going. I grew tons of tomatoes and zucchini which I would roast in my solar oven and then freeze. My potato yield this time was 48. The turnips didn't do too well, I only got a few. I grew three nice, big winter squash.

I had bought 12 face cords of wood and spent hours stacking it outside to dry, then moving it onto my porch or into my wood shed. I had about 20 gallons of water stored in the house. Dee Dee and Ellen both took me to Northview to stock up on groceries before winter. So my pantry was full. I found a nifty little single burner stove for $10 that I felt would be handy to have. I had heard predictions that it was going to be a very harsh winter, in more ways than one. I wanted to be prepared.

One preparation was to store a lot of stuff in my barn that had been taking up room in the house. I was tired of having to stack everything on one side of the barn because of all Chuck's stuff on the other side. So one day when he was away I pulled all his crap out and piled it over by his camper. In spite of the fact that he has a shed that he built that is mostly empty, he just let the stuff lay there in the dirt.

The first snowfall came in December and dumped about two feet of heavy, wet snow. I worked at trying to clear it away for a couple of days but my progress was slow. I had to spend a lot of time working in the back so I could get to the woodshed and so the cats would have some place they could go out to. I only managed to open a foot path down to the road in the front.

As much as I hate to ask for help, I finally called Phil to see if he would be coming over with his plow. Turns out the heater in his truck had gone out so he couldn't drive it with no way to defrost the windows. On top of that, the 4-wheel drive on his ATV was also gone and he was waiting on a part. He didn't know when he'd be back on the road again.

The next morning I was at my computer and I heard a truck outside in my driveway. I thought Phil must have worked things out. But I looked out and saw the guy driving the plow truck was someone I had never seen before. I quickly called Phil and asked if he had sent someone over to help me. Nope.

Well, good grief. I got into all my outside clothes and managed to get out there just as the guy was finishing up. I caught up with him at the road and thanked him about 10 times and told him he was an angel. He told me he didn't usually just go in and plow without being asked, but he had seen me trying to cope with that mess for a couple of days and he decided he was just going to go ahead and do it. Merry Christmas!

I got to thinking about this. I had never seen the guy before. He was wearing a red jacket and had long white hair and a white beard. Oh my. It was Santa!

On Christmas day Dee Dee and I went to the nursing home where Ellen works and helped to hand out gifts. We would take the gifts to the folks and read the card and then help them to unwrap their presents. It was lots of fun, very poignant, and three hours passed by very quickly. Then we all headed over to Phil's for some snacks and Christmas cheer. It was quite a lovely day.

It snowed and snowed throughout January, but I managed to keep it shoveled out all by myself. I kept my fire going and my house toasty warm. I cook most of my meals on the wood stove, plus I always keep several gallons of water heated on top of the stove. Towards the end of the month I saw the weather forecast on the internet said it was going to clear up for a few days, and get very, very cold. Twenty below zero cold.

I got up one morning, the fire had gone out and it was minus 22 outside. I got the fire started again then went to fill the cats' water dish, and nothing came out of the faucet. Damn. I turned on the electric heaters to try to help things thaw, wherever it was they were frozen. With the sun shining outside and all the heaters and wood stove going inside, I got it up to 80 degrees inside by afternoon. But still no water.
 

Fortunately I had all that stored water, so life went on pretty much as usual for a few days. Then I used the water all up and still had nothing coming from my taps. So I decided I had to make that dreaded trip to the basement to see if I could figure out what was going on.

When you're on a well you have to have a pressure tank to push the water up into your pipes. My pressure tank was only a few years old now. Chuck's supposed plumbing supplies were STILL all in the same place.

I looked at the gauge on the tank and it said 100 pounds, the maximum. Uh oh, not good. It should be about 40 pounds. What to do? Get on the internet. Soon enough I found someone to tell me where the pressure relief valve was and things I might try. So I did all that plus put down a space heater to blow on the intake pipe in case it was frozen there. Still nothing. Every other day I would fill my toboggan with jugs and pull them across the road to Dee Dee's and get more water.

One afternoon there was a knock on my door and I was surprised to see Lisa. She invited me to come over and meet Ian, a good friend of theirs who had moved from town here long ago but always came back to visit over the holidays. He knew all about Chuck and had long wanted to meet me.

“Well, I'd sure like to meet him, too, but he's going to see me at my absolute worse. I haven't had running water here for weeks so I'm kind of funky.”

“Oh, don't worry about that. Heck, he can probably even help you with whatever is wrong.”

“Sounds good to me. Give me a few minutes to brush my teeth and change and I'll be right over.”

  

So I met dear, sweet, cute Ian. Same age as me, divorced for many years, he now lived way over on the west coast. But he always wanted to come back to Whispering Springs, where he was born and raised. He and Jack had been best friends since childhood. I explained my water problem and he said he'd come over in the morning and look into it for me. We ate Christmas cookies and had a few drinks. Then he walked me home and we shared a big hug in the moonlight.

He came over the next day and we spent hours draining pipes, turning things off and on again, blasting the heater here and there. Finally I had running water again. Not only that, I had more water pressure than I'd had for a long, long time. I was very happy.

He told me, “No charge, this time.”

I told him that when he returned in the summer, which he said he planned to do, I would fix him a big picnic lunch. He agreed, then we went back up to Jack and Lisa's and talked and drank beer and had a pleasant afternoon. He walked me home again with one more big hug; he left the next day. I do hope I see him again.