Out of laundry detergent.

First world problems, right here. Come and get ’em.

  1. I make my own laundry detergent, (fels naptha, washing soap and borax) so this means a trip to the grocery store and then MAKE THE LAUNDRY DETERGENT, for bedspreads covered in vomit. If you do not do all these steps you will sigh heavily at the sight of plastic jugs in your laundry area and judge yourself for killing the world. If you do not wash them, the house will never stop smelling. The towels are clean, the sheets are drying in the wind, probably, once I get around to it. Its so windy today I might lose them.
  2. I got a good night’s sleep last night. The kids are at their dad’s. None of them are throwing up and none of them had a bad night either. They were already not throwing up when I passed them off, but the guy had the gall to ask me to wish him luck. FOR KIDS WHO WERE ALREADY DONE WITH ALL THE THROWING UP. He has a new fiance and I guess he wants her to think this is his gig. (its supposed to be. you know? i’m crying a little. (no, i’m not) boy, thats an onion. not them, him. so many layers. and i’ll be mad about it for a while, and its fruitless and who the hell cares, really. idiot, me. I’m too tired to be able to stop myself from typing it though. resistance is low. )
  3. I’m pretty tired still though. I think I skipped a night, so my plans today include laundry, grocery and reading. I’m so very glad I finished up that writing project early. I’d be in tears right now otherwise. THANK YOU FOR THE TYPED YELLING, FRIENDS.
  4. I’ve decided that I resent spring, for forcing me to let go of my safe nest. I hate it. Of course, I love the flowers and the hope and all that crap, but I am clinging to my doorframe and the wind is whipping me around like a freaking pastel bunny house flag. I DO NOT WANT TO GO.
  5. There is so much to freaking do in spring. the yard, the house, everything is uncovered. every single little thing. I know I have to break it into little parts and just take care of it. but my god, houses are freaking enormous and there are so many little parts. so very many. I’m trying to get the stuff done that bothers me the most, while asking for help with things that are pure luxury, or plainly useful. (not really luxury, to have a produce table made, is it?) but i guess for me, the luxury is in the asking. i’m not used to it and it scares me a little.
  6. I am waiting on a tax form. I know the deadline has been extended but I’ve been waiting for a month and it was just supposed to arrive naturally in the first place so WHERE THE HELL IS IT? I am too much of a rule follower to be comfortable not turning in my papers on time. My mother-in-law, former teacher still rags me about a paper I didn’t turn in on time, in high school, 30 years ago. She can remember THAT, but not that my dad died seven years ago. wackadoo.
  7. The stimulus check is going to the dog, mostly, (half, really) can you believe that? But he’ll have a full yard now, and I can maybe grow grass or whatever pops up when no one digs there. The kids have been asking for three years, for him to play ball with them. so now he can, and the business putting the wire down is a family-owned one so hopefully it is valuable to them too.
  8. I’m tired. I don’t want to leave the house. I don’t. I have the kids break-free for the next seven days and there is not currently enough food for that, here. So needs must, and all that. This is the ONLY occasion in which I’d love one of those driverless cars. I could nap on the way. Otherwise, they are terrifying. (random list? yes.)
  9. I have to go buy a can of compressed air. Honestly, this makes my soul feel like breaking. Can we not just ‘blow real hard’ anymore? I don’t know how to handle the complexity of my feelings about this. Honestly. honestly. honestly.
  10. Okay, so I did get a good night’s sleep, but I am beginning to see that it might not have been enough. Hello random list, how are you?

I hope you all are not visited by a stomach bug. I hope that fervently.


All quiet

For the first time in my fifteen year shift as mother, all three children were throwing up at the same time. (first, and only. RIGHT?)

Its quarter to ten in the morning, and everyone is lying down somewhere, even the dog.

I haven’t been out to let the chickens out as I’m finding it hard to take more than ten steps at a time. 🙂 I’ve been through tougher spots than this. There was a two week period a few years ago, where the kids all went down consecutively, so there was never any break. This was just one night and at some point, they all stopped throwing up long enough to catch a few hours of sleep.

and now its quiet.

I have a book at my side that is creeping me out, called THE HUNGER, by ALma Katsu. For those of you who regularly read scary things, this is probably not scary. But I’m a novice, and I’m getting spooked by the ominous and the foreshadowing. My brain already knows whats what, but I am waiting, waiting, waiting to find out who and how. Its set in westward expansion times (Donner party) and there is a wagon train and bloody mystery. (even mormons, for godssake.)

So this is what I’m doing, after stumbling to the study to pick up this piece of computer, I am going back to it. Reading. Listening hard for coughing that will lead to more throw-up or throw-up laundry. We shall see. This is the gig.

When my kids were sick last night, they were so grateful. It was insane, but I recognize it. When someone takes care of me when I am ill, I am also so grateful. I love it, in fact, because I get to say to my children out loud…. I love being your mother, all the time, even when you are sick. You are my babies, forever and ever, and I will always take care of you.

Getting to say that, in the middle of the night, to a weak child, while feeling weak yourself? Stunning. Adding to that the sincerity involved? Massive.

So, its all quiet here. And I’m okay so far. Fingers crossed on this. all the fingers, please.

Its not all bad. Not even nearly.


All done.

I’m done with a bunch of things. I ate a bunch of broccoli yesterday to attempt to keep my damn kid out of my bed last night. She is adorable, and often I love to have her sleep as she is the most adorable thing in the world. However, I am also a fan of my ‘own’ bed.

But honestly, why my brain would make me think broccoli was a good plan? Sigh. Slept like shit. farty shit. And now I am here, at almost eleven am, exhausted. Yelling at my kid who is 15 now to get out of my room so maybe I can take a nap. He is farty too, or I’m hoping thats the smell there. but I want just one place in the house that is mine, that the messes are mine, that the laundry I launder is just mine. MINE.

I’m all done with sharing. can i be? can i be all done with sharing my bed with children? is there some lost chance, some missed opportunity to snuggle that i will regret forever?

I’m done with my big project. Yes, another will arrive in a month, because it is luck to have work at all. This one was a particular challenge as i was morose and not working at all for a week, then the kids were here and recovery and grief and all, and suddenly i was in deep shit. brutal encouragement did the trick. but today, it is done.

now i go off to look at the class i signed up for, and get dreamy again, and maybe clean out the fridge. I’d like to rent a truck to move furniture to the dump. because otherwise i have to burn this messy house down. another thing i am done with.

teenagers. not done, but done, if you know what i mean. done.

sigh. i want some energy. where is it? did i have it before the broccoli problem? last year? When?

another thing I am done with? thinking that I should be all done with this pandemic thing. I ‘should be’ moving on, getting through, getting out. I should be moving, losing the weight, turning it around. The numbers are great, so great, comparatively. My mother is fully vaccinated, as are my in-laws and many people I love. And I don’t know how to accurately express the emotional salad bowl I have going on in me. What’s my resistance? What’s my problem? Why do I want to make another cake when I start thinking about it? Shit. fuck.


What are you done with? Really. I mean it. What are you done with?

close up photo of stacked brownies on chopping board
Brownie cake will do just fine. Photo by Marta Dzedyshko on


Still at it.

I’m still working on the project, but I can see the light at the end of the tunnel and it is lovely. This is a deadline I did not think I would make, and now I am pretty certain I will. I’ve got friends and family who have been harassing the hell out of me gently and firmly and I have loved it.

I am also a new auntie and i am very proud of all the work i have done to achieve this. (laughing) and what I will say is that I am very happy to be reminded of how fucking amazing women are. Because HOLY SHIT.

I would like to tape to my body silent videos of my birth experiences. I think it would be an incredible installation actually, to walk around a gallery seeing the most awesome experiences of some women’s lives. I don’t actually have video of them, but I could take it from memory like Gandalf, put it in a sieve and let you see it.

This is a lunch break and I’ve made eggs and a bagel. (do you hear how my brain is mushy? I do.)

I’ve been noticing how tired I get after eating, like the full stomach of Thanksgiving day just tired and ready to sleep. My brain has a hard time snapping to attention.

And then I got a friend phone call so ANOTHER DISTRACTION! but, now i know i can get it all done, on time, probably. but there is LIGHT AT THE END OF THE TUNNEL!!

cheers, lovies.


yellow and green led light
Game Over Photo by cottonbro on


Procrastination fuckery.

these are the things i type to my accountability partner, gibbler.

: just hit 12 K. cry for me argentina.

: oh my god, i just want to eat and watch tv. this one is a wolf and a witch. i’m dying dying.

: my brain is bleeding.

: evil eye to the laptop

:you are the devil.

:i need food.


She is so good. She just tells me to keep going. She’s amazingly good at it. She doesn’t even sympathize, just tells me how good i’ll feel at the end, which is true.

Failing gibbering maw of doubt and whine: This is how much i am suffering for my art. ( i just snorted, because this is many things, but it is not art.) I just want to point out what my accountability partner has to deal with while i am writing a 35000 word romance. and i am potentially in trouble on the deadline of this one. I just caught myself playing a swap it match game on my phone. and I’m here, now. My brain is toast. I wrote almost six thousand words yesterday and that feels like a lot. I wish I made tons of money. I wish my sauna were electric so I used it more. I wish I was easier for people to understand. I wish plants could talk if they wanted to. I wish this story were done. I wish i had some chocolate. I wish I didn’t have to go right back to it, right now. I don’t like horses, really, although i think they just intimidate me. but I have plenty of wishes anyhow.

sigh. fuck.

I’m at 22,000 words. Thats a fuck ton. It really is. I still haven’t done my taxes.

sigh. fuck.

adorable horse standing on pasture in mountains
This is a beautiful horse, not a wish. Photo by Dario Fernandez Ruz on