Humanity

Eclipse, evidently. (PLENTY)

Yesterday (Friday now) was stupid, folks. I was swamped with feelings of inadequacy and frankly, jealousy. It is not a good look and not something I carry well. Inadequacy I’m familiar with. Jealousy? No.

Like all of us, a work in progress am I. It was just too much yesterday and I did hit the Walking Dead, and hard.

And then I missed a day of writing, And then another. So now I’m writing on a Monday, after a weekend of plenty. Saturday was The last day of CSA pickup before Thanksgiving and I spun in the luxury of plenty. Literally, as I served the people and packed the cranberries, and figuratively as I packed the foods of a feast to come. I really did. Leeks, Potatoes, Spinach, Butternut! Apples! Sage! Onion! I was still hustling to get stuff ready and I looked at the clock and my day was done. SO MUCH PLENTY! Cornucopias overflowing, my friends.

This Thursday is Thanksgiving in these united states. ha, on that ‘united’ . but i digress and thats a grief that I cannot touch these days.

Thanksgiving is one of my most favorites (because hello gluttony! and stuffing, and then more stuffing and potatoes too, oh my god, and gravy…) but it is directly after the anniversary of my dad’s death which was Sunday, and this will be the second year that there is no extended family plenty for me to host, which is a gigantic and enjoyable distraction that makes me feel centered and well. I LOVE having people that I love in my house, it fills me up all sorts of ways…

Sigh. I tried. I opened the invite to all, but with meager responses and drive and covid risk, its been winnowed down. Less than plenty, but understandable and a day free from driving will give many of my family a different sort of ‘plenty’, so i feel that spaciousness for them.

My grief group that I am supposed to write in was last night, but as it was the actual anniversary, I couldn’t do it. For several reasons. another kind of plenty. the anniversary of my dad’s death is not something I focus on, but am aware of. My siblings are more on top of things in that way and I appreciated the focus they gave me, really.

I did some driving for my mom who was having car troubles, and she could only just say she found it a stressful day. I did not dig but just rolled along, because that is what I do. I can roll.

I may be deflated, but I still roll babies.

So say we all.

I hope you have your own loving, gorgeous Plenty this week, and all the weeks.

Is there anything more ‘barn’ than this? Really?
Color overwhelm of Cranberry
Who knew this girl would be so happy being outside in coldness feeding chickens? Who knew?
Humanity

I like being busy.

I know. Its with a certain amount of chagrin that I say this, knowing how I’ve been complaining these past few weeks.

My projects wrapped up. and while there is a tiny thing I could do, I’m finding myself utterly at a loss and swept away by emotions. I do blame perimenopause for some of it, yes, but not all.

working for myself, at home, is not an easy gig.

i’m thinking i might go binge on the walking dead, because i can hide from the gratuitous gore and just hang on to the mystery of who is going to survive or what will ever cause things to get better. (i’m on season six somewhere so don’t say a word.)

the kids are also away this weekend and i’ve had them for the past two, so there is this gaping maw sensation. I’ve got some entertainment in my social life these days but i’m thinking i’m going to take the weekend off from that too. and so, its just me, and tv.

never fear. i’ve got a crockpot going and have fed the chickens and things look normal from the outside. but still. this month. tsk.

Its nice to think about cooking good food. I’ve been assigned brussel sprouts and butternut. Plus, mashed potatoes. All will be well. I can actually just live on those, anyhow, so we’re good.

love you guys. hope your search for food will be fulfilled.

-lovelove

My ladies, of Flying Carrot Farm
Humanity

okay okay

here we are: the otherside.

I’ve completed the hardest of my projects for this week, and i’m basking. Just momentarily, but still. And, a birthday is completed, and I can’t tell you how glad I am. And the cactus in the houseplant section of my kitchen are blooming. and there is joy in mudville. and tomorrow I get to go feed the chickens again. and that is invigorating. so much so.

so, its not necessarily the otherside, but its well down the path towards it. I can see those greener pastures of january first, i can.

there will be bumps, this is guaranteed.

I’m a bump-ridden kind of girl. But also, I’m a bump rider. I throw my hands up when the car goes over the tracks and I love the thump of my base when I hit the speedbumps. SO.

I wrote this morning about what is in my fridge and how I’m sadly familiar with the liquifaction of zucchini. and thats a bump, but i’m waving my arm around like I just don’t care. Can you see me? More liquid magic for the compost heap, baby.

And, determination. So much determination that maybe next year, I’ll even plant zucchini, just to prove it to myself that there is a way, somehow, someway, to get my kids to eat it. There is. I will lazerpoint my steely eyes on those children and watch them with glee when it happens to them.

The zuke.

(whats funny is that most of my writing this morning had to do with myself being a ‘pantser’ style (by the seat of your pants) writer, a writer without a plan who gets an idea and just runs. This post is a perfect example of the problem with pantsing. No doubt you did not expect the first sentence to lead you through this journey. Neither did I. I’m just along for the ride, like you.)

And herein lies the problem with this every day thing… no, no, i’m not going to say it, or type it, or even think it anymore.

i’m just going on faith here that if you read it, you’ll find something in it that you like. go digging. find something.

maybe my kids won’t need me to play hide the zucchini.

and because I think that sentence is so funny and leads to so much joy and hysteria, i’m going to stop right there.

love you guys. dig for it.

-kate

pexels-photo-128420.jpeg
Photo by Angele J on Pexels.com
Humanity

Lost, Alone, and a list.

I don’t have a paid job this week and so i’m a bit adrift. I finished up my project early so its supposed to be a good thing, a break. but i’m just freaking morose.

I know the NYTimes had labeled it Languishing. but its not right, I’m sorry, the fruitlessness, the vagurey of this time has some words of its own, and its more than that. the recognition of a deep dissatisfaction. the recognition, further, that there is nothing you are truly willing to do to change it?

gowd.

so here is a list of what i have done today, because it is all about clinging to sanity here.

  1. I have gotten three kids to school, with a very small amount of frustration or verbal list-making… i.e. do you have your cleats, your glove, are there socks on your feet?
  2. I have checked a half dozen times on the new pullets i got last week. they are holding their own against the older hens, for now.
  3. I have watched a chicken jump almost six feet straight up to escape the run that I have been fixing up all weekend. Motherfucker.
  4. I have done laundry that is all my own, and some of theirs and they’ll be able to turn in last season’s uniforms freshly laundered. Believe me, i have given that as a gift to another mother.
  5. I have put the dishwasher through.
  6. I made tonight’s dinner already because its bubbling in the crockpot. Butter chicken, babies. If you are not familiar with Indian Food, then just please come visit me. This is my first time making this and aside from collecting the spices initially, it was super easy. I am very much ready to eat it now. it is only 3:30 in the afternoon.
  7. I’ve eaten so much sugar in the past two weeks that I’ve messed up all my intestinal, internal floras and faunas and so now I am on an antibiotic which means I cannot have any alcohol. So of course it is all I can think about. Tomorrow is the last day.
  8. I’ve watched an episode of Alone. I can’t function while cold, I don’t know how these men and women do it.
  9. I have applied the beauty-fying face cream. Not holding my breath.
  10. I’ve arranged for my dog to be played with this weekend while i have a beautiful 24 hour escape with my sister. unprecedented.
  11. And here, this. Adrift

Leaving marks in the wilderness,

kate

brown pie on brown wooden tray
Not my naan, not my dinner, Photo by Saveurs Secretes on Pexels.com
Humanity

Drop the Flinch, February.

I have a new office.

My back is turned to all of the kid action and there aren’t any plants or birds to stare at. The desk my laptop is on is empty still, empty of knicknacks and unnecessariness. Its definitely strange. The two pieces of artwork in front of me are fascinating me. They are darkly colorful and I dig it.

I have new guilt.

I can’t really hear the boys who are remote learning. I don’t see them start milling about when it is time for lunch. This is roughly my third day with this space. Today was my first day with kids in school and an actual routine and I forgot to make them lunch. I forgot to make them lunch. I’m pretty sure they just ate snack food all day.

Hmm. Am I a 70s mom?

I don’t think of myself as a helicopter parent at all. but clearly, it is not necessary for me to be in the middle of the action.

So is this guilt or am I feeling a loss of relevance? Or, have I done my job so fucking well that they function at a subsistence level without me just fine? Like, the wolves will not get them, ya dig?

I’m here, its almost dinner time and I’m still in here, typing. I got three times as much done today as I usually do. Its all the uninterrupted time, looking at the damn computer, that’s what it was. What will happen now that I know this trick?

When the boys were little I was in a shock-and-awe phase for quite a while. They were so damn risk-friendly, I was flinching all the time. After a while, I got over it, as a survival mechanism, an adaptation to have a healthier life. There is a point you have to look away, for your own health.

And that’s where I find myself again. Looking away, at least, more often. What will open up for me? What will open up for them?

I know, I know, Virginia Woolf. I know.

but yeah, that. here it is.

love love.