There are days...

... when I'd like to put on my city clothes and a pair of high heels and just walk back to Clear Lake, no matter how long it takes. Actually, I would imagine that high heels wouldn't exactly be the best choice of shoes for a one-hundred-mile trek.

Every house has problems. Every piece of property needs maintenance. It just seems to me that living in a 100-yr-old house on 23 acres out in the middle of these hills has something going on with it every day. Every blessed day. It just wears you down and wears you out. If it isn't the house, it's the property. If it isn't the property, it's the wildlife. If the wildlife on your own property is quiet and content, then you're hearing the screams of baby goats from the neighbor's property as they prepare to take their last breath and become dinner. That alone just kills my heart.

Today's adventure... the air-conditioning system on the first floor decided to do its own thing yesterday. (Translation: the unit just didn't want to let off cool air... it seemed to be quite satisfied with the warm air.) Not good, especially when the outside temperature is over 90 degrees and just aching to hit that 100-degree mark. And really not good, considering that these air-conditioning systems are just two years old.

We called the air-conditioning company and they said they'd be out here this morning, which they were. Wonder of wonders.  The problem, said the a/c guy, was that there was trouble in the breaker-box.  After he checked that, he told us the problem was in one of the electrical lines going underneath the house, and he suggested we get an electrician out here.

Fine. Off he went.  As luck would have it, handyman #3 happened to be here working outside in the yard. This particular handyman has a license for plumbing and electrical work. My husband asked him if he would look at the breaker-box and also check underneath the house.... which he did... and he also re-checked the outside air-conditioning unit. His opinion was directly opposite of the tech guy from the air-conditioning company.

Fine. Now we're waiting for the tech guy to come back out here from town. We had called and asked for the son of that company's owner, but he's not in the office this afternoon.  As I type, the air-conditioning unit for the first floor is working again. We have no idea why. Nor do we have any idea how long it will remain in working order.

Fine. Fine. Fine. (Translation: So not fine.)

Sometimes I wonder if this house is out to get us. Have we not been good to it? Have we not taken care of it? Did it like the previous owners better than us? Or perhaps it wants its original owners of 100+ years ago?

Fine. There are days, like today, when I would gladly put a 'For Sale' sign out by the mailbox and hope that someone drives by and immediately falls in love with this big old house without even walking in the front door. As I did, six years ago.

Living in Clear Lake was a breeze. We had maintenance issues with that house also at times, but all I had to do was make one phone call, and out would come a man in a truck filled with tools and the problem would be identified and quickly (and properly) fixed. I wrote out a check, and off he went. And everything was indeed fine.

That doesn't always happen out here.  When you're lucky enough for repairmen to show up when they say they will, they don't always know what they're doing. And if you're really lucky, the know-nothings will tell you to call someone else. And then you hope that the second company shows up and knows more than the first company.

It's all just very frustrating. And I know that I sound ridiculous at times, because I'm fully aware that there are people out there living without air-conditioning, and living without the means to pay for any sort of repairs to their homes. My frustration is not with country comforts, but with the lack of city convenience. And I've been learning that you can't have both out here in the hills. Pick one. (Guess which one I would pick.)

Since we've been out here, I've been living with the blinding misconception that country living was peacefully serene and blissfully content. Silly me. It is anything but.... unless you like dealing with inept and inefficient repairmen, endless visits from wildlife and insects,  and you like the sounds of baby animals as they're either carted off to market or butchered in their own backyard.

I've said it before. I will say it again. Living out here is hurting my heart.