Humanity

questions… 5 am.

Lovelovemotherexpletive

Being almost 50.

  • how do i let go if i keep remembering?
  • no really, if I’m still stuck on how a landline works, how’m I supposed to get satellite signals equaling real and true sounding voices?
  • is this it then, the culmination of my life, that i work all the time and worry about the kids?
  • How do i get my fucking jade plant to thrive? i think about it way too much.
  • why are accidents so much more poignant for me now? because i feel my own mortality so much? the ways in which small things can be enormous in a life?
  • Can i work forever? when the kids are gone and i’ve moved into a tiny house with my man somewhere, can i just wake up and go to work, forever? there is always so much to be done. everywhere. all I i want to do is plant stuff.
  • do you know i have to change clothes two or three times a day just to be clean and non-contaminated, depending on what i am doing at the farm, or at the school? the car is a jumbled up closet of farmshoes, and school clothes. the back seat is unusable. yesterday i laid all the seats down to deliver eggs to a store 45 minutes away. then, i played playdough. outfit changes. Is this adulthood?
  • Want some eggs? I have a lot. Finally got rid of a bunch of roosters, and now they are much happier ladies out there. Nobody needs or wants that much cock. No question.
  • I need to go away for a week by myself. Think that will ever happen? No, me neither. And I would miss everyone so much, and I can’t afford to miss a week of work anyways. But I’m pining for it. Ever heard of Woolman Hill? (this is not an invitation for my sister or boyfriend or brother to buy something. got it? don’t piss me off.)
  • Self hair cuts? Yes? or no?
  • I think i’m done here, I’m losing my juju.
  • Love to you,
  • me.

Some of these babies have already been planted in the field now, that’s how quickly things grow these days. and they’re off!!

Humanity

Make ’em laugh.

Lovelovemotherexpletive

We wrote about singing today in my writing group. I found myself lost in my dad’s choral career. usually the deepest voice in the group but for the lovely Lauren next to him. Church. His growing up Baptist with so many cousins, and hymns that focused on somber joy, was a way of being which I think he did pretty well. When I imagine him squeezing his elbows against his belly in laughter, his hands in balls (think manly t-rex) there is nothing better. He was a mixed bag, for sure, but he did find joy pretty often.

Between he and my grammie harriet, they were my true goals. To make them laugh meant I’d made it. I was a heroine amongst heroines. I didn’t know funny jokes or anything, it was perspective, or whimsy, or somesuch. My favorite motherinlaw said I had edge, and I suppose that too, is true. Took me a long time to appreciate that it was something different in me, not just weirdness.

I had an unfortunate marriage, and spent a lot of time sad, fearful and angry. I was still funny though, but threaded through with those emotions, and it felt like grit sometimes.

Now my days are filled with plants and little kids, and my own kids, bigger but still kids, all of them, even the one away in school. And there are few adults in my circles. And I’m a shoe-in to make a preschooler laugh. Absolutely. They are my spirit animals, so tangibly connected to joy.

there is nothing better.

What a terrifically unfunny post. Irony.

ha. LOVE YOU MOST.

-me.

Humanity

Woah Nelly

Lovelovemotherexpletive

the fury of finances is settling down. Have started being paid for the new hours, have asked the farm boss to pay me asap, and she’s happy willing and understanding. the credit card carried the day, which bites it but got me gas in the car and the kids got their juice. mofo.

in my adult life i have never had it be such a goddamned lightening strike as that was and I’d be very happy never to repeat it.

And spring has mostly exploded, so at the climax of it all are daffodils, and wild expanses of seedlings in a greenhouse and little baby grape hyacinths everywhere. So i am content.

Grape hyacinth in the front yard

I am sitting on my porch and I feel like I’m on a softly rocking boat, watching a sunset. One of those life altering appreciations, the wild privilege of a beautiful life.

So it swings, this pendulum, between sense and sensibility. today is all the senses.

and its kim smith’s birthday. holy shit. we be 50 this year.

Haapppy Birthday Gimmler!

hugs and kisses to us all. and to KIM!!

  • love love.
Humanity

flibbity. or, finding the beauty in the mundane.

Lovelovemotherexpletive

today is another day to miss and mourn my lively senses and their formerly rich role in my life. perhaps.

I’ll still wave my hope flag in the world despite all that is happening and the ways in which the bad guys seem to win all the time. bigger guns, fat wallets, less compassion and zero empathy. fuck ’em all and dig your little garden. or bunker, what have you.

why haven’t the mega-rich all been set on fire?

It is not my hope that they get set on fire, but that I regain my sense of wonder, my ability to find the sparkles amongst the drudgery.

I’ve got these free hours and i’m trying to take care of all the little buggers, the paperwork the health insurance people want, the bill from the eye appointment, the slowdown on paying off the credit card, these small little important things. but i have the time and finally, the will, to pigeonhole the papers. i’m hoping to be able to clean off my kitchen table entirely sometime this week, and the paper piles may be the end of me.

its too soon to garden and i’m craving it. i just keep telling myself its too soon, and i’m spitting at myself. at the farm i am seeding hundreds upon hundreds of babies. kale and choy and many many rainbow chard. it is beautiful in there. but at home? i must wait. sigh.

this is just me, trying to write more, and not all drama-like. the mundane probably has beauty in it too, right?

right?

the beauty of the paper pile? the majesty of the bills?

-lovelove you,

me.

trays of joi choi seedlings just barely out of the dirt.
Humanity

Where is my hedonistic self?

Lovelovemotherexpletive

I’m a pleasure seeker. For reals and at all the levels. The beauty, the words, the touch, the smell, all of it. My senses explode minute to minute, most of the time.

In my head.

Because when I get bored at work, and sometimes when I parent, and when I worry, I lose this wild appreciation for the senses. And I am working and parenting and worrying all the time right now.

My finances were fucked up these last three weeks. I had a couple surprising plumbing problems, and a refund that has not yet arrived, and a payment that was made before the refund was not arriving that threw everything off, and the chaos made the bank fee kings very happy, and if I can’t be proud of my credit score anymore than I just do not know what to do.

I’ve started a new job at a new salary and its another 15 hours a week and I’m thrilled, it will satisfy my need for little people and simple things but I have yet to be paid there too, and its just a flat pile of cards right now, when there is meant to be a house.

so what do i do with this hedonism, this lust, when it’s a boring office building of a life? when my teenaged boys don’t share with me because they idolize their father? what a waste of all this work I’ve done, is what runs through my brain. a flat white wall of a house showing.

pink tulips on a kitchen table in an aqua kitchen

The daffodils have arrived, and the grocery store flowers, so maybe the spring of spring will help.

but where am i? Dunder Mifflin?

(yes, a loving boyfriend with a high libido is helpful, so there is at least one outlet. don’t tell my kids.)

I just feel like I’m not making it, you know? Like, I’m losing my appreciation for the beauty and can only see the clutter. That is no good. I’m going to go now and do some more laundry, visit the basement again and move the everlasting sumppump, and maybe make some more coffee. I used to paint. I used to stare out the window.

I’m fine. Don’t worry. I do enough of that already. Today I’ve got a few hours between works, and I’m wearing slippers, so there is a touch of luxury to the day. Things will be fine. I’ve got a ‘read it already’ bookpile, so there is hope.