Quest to the Southwest - Chapter Two - Checkbook

"So, you'll be back by the end of October, right? There shouldn't be any papers to sign before then." Glen was worried about accessing the internet while she was gone.

"No, I won't be back until November 16. That's why I'm working so hard to make sure everything's covered before I go."

"November 16? When is it you're leaving?"

"October 5."

"So, you're going to be gone six weeks? I thought you were only going for three weeks."

No wonder Glen wasn't as stressed or worried as she had hoped. He hadn't even paid attention when she had spelled out her plans. She had discussed the whole thing in detail before sending off the check for the house in New Mexico, asking for his input on renting it for two weeks or three weeks. Obviously he hadn't connected the visits to the National Parks, the writing conference in Arizona and visiting their son at college to the three weeks at the cottage. Martha sighed. She should remember that unless things were visual, posted in writing and taped to the refrigerator, Glen didn't really pay much attention to what she was saying. At least his reaction was good. He had covered his eyes with his hands, saying "Oh, I'll be alone for six weeks", laughing and petting the dog. "At least I'll have Ozzie to keep me company."

Martha went back to her desk, picking up one of the many stacks of bills, notes and papers, tapping it into a neat pile. The timing of her departure was good, just after all the quarterly deposits and payments had to be made. Thanks goodness for all these automatic payments. As long as she could log in once in a while Glen wouldn't have to worry about paying bills. She was leaving very specific instructions for bank deposits and other important deadlines, however Glen always operated on his own schedule. If the garbage got collected once in a while that would be good, but there was no doubt in her mind that most Thursday mornings would find the big green toter down by the garage, not up on the road where the truck would pick it up. There wouldn't be much garbage with only one person here, so it didn't really matter. Maybe it would rain a few times so the plants would get a little water while she was gone. The animals would be fine. They knew how to remind Glen that they needed food and water, following him around mewing or clucking. Glen loved their animals, so he wasn't likely to forget about taking care of them.

Martha logged in and checked out the bank balances. She had saved up some cash for this trip, but every thing that seemed really exciting - horseback trips into canyons, hot air balloon rides, hotels in National Parks - these things were very expensive. She had made fifteen tote bags to try to sell along the way, and had two more ready to finish up. Maybe folks would be willing to trade? She had found several retro motels, newly remodeled and owned by actual people rather than big corporations. Three bags for a room for the night? Her heart pounded a little at the thought of asking if they would trade. She mentally rehearsed what she would say. She was a terrible sales person, not wanting to risk disappointed looks on faces after she made her spiel. She imagined them laughing at what she had made. It had happened before, one of the ladies she worked with tossing the bag down when Martha said "Thirty-five dollars or two for sixty." "I thought they were only ten dollars", the woman had remarked before turning away. There was almost fifteen dollars worth of materials in each bag. At thirty-five dollars Martha and her mother were barely making minimum wage as it was. Martha took a deep breath. When she let her thoughts go into the small amount of money that came from art work or hand made items she got so depressed. Salary was such a strange thing. So out of proportion, that a person could work the same amount of time and make such a discrepant amount of money.

Yesterday was a good example. Glen had finally followed her advice, getting a bid to have someone else do some of the work around the house that they never seemed to have time to do. The estimates the out-of-work contractor had given floored them both. It wasn't hard to decide that they would find the time to do these tasks. Yesterday they had re-stained the redwood deck. It took about three hours. The bid had been over a thousand dollars. "Good salary for us today," Glen had joked. "We're each making about three hundred dollars an hour." That was certainly more than she had made at any other job!

It was such a see saw of emotions that she was on when it came to saving money by doing things herself. She had read that little book last year, Two Old Women, an Alaskan folk tale about taking care of oneself and not forgetting how to do things one was capable of doing. That is what had inspired her to work on the drip system and to paint the house. Trouble was, the drip system still wasn't working and there were spots of red unpainted wood over all the high windows and on the eaves. She would finish the house, she just needed a break from it. But the electrical part of the drip system was beyond her knowledge base. Good thing it was almost rainy season and she could wait until next year to tackle that problem.

"I'm thinking about buying you a satellite phone." Glen was still worried about her being out of contact for so long.

"No, I don't want a satellite phone." Her voice came out sharp, more angry than she felt. "I'm going to drive into town every few days, I'll call you then."

"You're going to be alone out there?"

"Yes, that's the point."

"I just can't understand how you would be able to do that. Not have contact with your kids or anybody."

Anybody. Meaning everybody. Alone.

That really was the point.