Humanity

the world

the world is too much with us. (wordsworth)

i say it all the time, and its true, we all can feel it bearing down on us at times.

oppressive.

this week has been busy. i chose not to write. so things have looped themselves around my intestines, looped themselves around my valves, and i am laid low.

only marginally laid low, but truth and what rings in words are not ALWAYS the same thing. but i do a very fair job at telling truth or my pieces of it, here and in type and longhand as well.

yesterday was my birthday, and work had a glitch so i missed writing for the catch-up i needed to get done at-speed in order to paint with my daughter, which was one of my birthday wishes.

its the one day of the year where i really prioritize myself right over everything else. and, as it happens, my own self desires my children.  go figure.

so i forced them to eat cake and icecream. and to start painting the playhouse, and the chicken pallet fence. the girls have made an incredible icecream puddle swirl of color on the back of the playhouse and we should all live so well.

i love you.  thanks for touching base when you do.

-uwmofo0511191816

 

 

The world is too much with us; late and soon,
Getting and spending, we lay waste our powers;
Little we see in Nature that is ours;
We have given our hearts away, a sordid boon!

-wm wordsworth

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Humanity

In the middle of the week. (a pallet fence)

It is Thursday. I’m going to call that the middle this week, defying all convention. but you know, seven doesn’t divide neatly on a calendar anyhow, so don’t send the hit squad, please.

Summer started here on Tuesday at noon.

Which means, for me, three kids in the house all the time, likely possibility of it being five at any given moment.  Five feels like seven, believe me. Some of this i typed last time i posted. bear with me.

summer brain is like pregnancy brain.

there is a great deal of uncertainty about things that were formerly quite absolute.  and i’ve arrived there. took a day and a half.

yesterday, on a wednesday, the loveliest man (LM) and i put together a pallet fence to protect the chickens-to-be from predators. Because, it turns out, I really like having chickens, for the comfort of their feathers, the curve of their eggs and even their confounding stupidity.  i remain uncertain as to whether god made a mistake in their pea brains, or not. but don’t tell god i said that.

i made a pallet fence.palletdetail

 

and there is much to do, to wire up the whole thing against digging critters, but it makes my whole place look distinctly farmy and delightful in a way i would never truly have expected in my life. (its sort of how i feel right now about LM in general, although he is definitely not farmy)  Its delightful, and I’m going to paint it purple. (not the LM)

Honestly, the pallet fence was so easy, i feel like i need to fence in all the things. stand em up, brace them together and you are done. chickenwire in the ground will happen in the run during the next dry day.

i’m going to fence in my kid who turns 14 at the end of this month. he’s so in it, the life, that i already miss him, and he’s here. so, a paddock it is.

i’m going to fence in the LM, because i barely know how to handle such loveliness and sometimes i need a pause to gather all my panicking feathers.

i’m going to fence in my middle E because he is growing towards 14, and is so independent and will be the crush of my heart when he doesn’t throw himself on me to hug anymore.

i’m throwing my littlest in the fence because she’d love it, the nook aspect of a new cuddle spot, and LM has promised to build her a playhouse and I’m so convinced of men being liars that I don’t want her to know about any of it. so she can never be disappointed.

i’m throwing a fence up around my heart because i’m so content that it is terrifying. chew on that one. I will have a gate so LM and kids and family can come and go.

there will be gates everywhere. and doors. and windows.

let the light flood in. leave the cracks.

sigh.

-uwmofo

 

 

 

 

 

Humanity

Summer begins

I think, from my point of view, on this rainy muggy day, that it feels like the beginning of a long stretch, one of those times when you know that your two jobs are going to overlap such that you might not have time for a dinner break for two more weeks. like that. except it is two months.

and i have it easy. i’m not trying to juggle child care. i am child care. i work at home and the kids will be making their own breakfasts this year, all summer. and this means many more breakfasts for dinner, because i can make eggs like nobodies bizniz.

so, its happening right now. they are all home. my tenant has her two kids here and that means 5 kids in house. my littlest is out on the trampoline with her littlest, so there are benefits, but it is also a whole lot of negotiation all the time, but mostly i get over that pretty quickly.  the benefits of a girl for the girl are pretty good.  except when they suck. then it sucks.

my kids go to their dads tonight and my honey will come over for grilled cheese and soup. because thats the kind of day it is.

just sharing, because i don’t know what else to do. the days are spinning by.

i’ve done a lot of summers, i don’t dread them anymore, and i know i’ll be fine and that it ends and i’ll even be sad that it was so short then.

i’m working on things, and trying to figure out how to make sure that I still rate as important during the summertime, that i continue to work on work and on myself and what i prioritize EVEN when the kids are here.

EVEN WHEN.

0503190655
www.seasoulblessings.com  GO LOOK.  

this is the feeling i want to have, at least SOME of the sweltering days this summer, the thrill, the endeavour. (those funky brits, always the extra ‘u’) THIS. how do i truly swing this with a potential of five sweaty urchins?

but i read this earlier, in a listing of the day’s details, calling them  ‘the day’s minor urchins’ … and suddenly its all romantic, dickensian-like. romance in the grit.

thats where we are.

-uwmf

Humanity

cool stuff i’ve written.

i’ve written. swear to god, or whatever you think IT is….

so here: proof.

  • unpacking humility.  (oof. is that a book title or what? i mean, not mine, but someone’s.)
  • odd numbers are trees.
  • bubbles of nuclear family: do you incorporate, or do you bounce?
  • when what you desire is immersion and you fear it to paralysis.
  • i’d rather have empty walls and a richly vibrant lady by the fire than a beautifully ornate caravan with an empty shell of me.
  • i exist in dapple today.

these are nice bits and bobs. my oldest graduates from middle school today and its lovely, and i am feeling my age.  i hadn’t totally realized i was a middle-aged-woman, until i saw myself next to him at a pre-semi-formal and there it was.  but whatever. i can write. so there.

0515191352

Humanity

old wives tales

ideas for someone else to do.

old wives tales. tales from people who are or have been a wife* for more than a decade. … all your tales are old wives tales. all the things you’ve learned, all the world you’ve seen.

lets venerate ourselves. more, more. more.

get those glennon doyles, those liz gilberts, those oprahs, those anne lamotts… get them, put them in one spot and shine the hell out of them. read them to our kids, start borrowing bits of their knowledge and calling it our own, because we’re them too, just not with any platform.  we do know as much as they do, actually.

although i envy the hell out of their ability to think and process and then SHARE so well.  i’m missing at least one step at all times.

but still. bring it on, we old wives. . .

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*recognizing ‘wife’ doesn’t have to mean ‘church wedding’, or hetero-anything.