Humanity

lord

my first baby had his last first day of school yesterday.

I’m in a large transition, to what? crone? to powerful woman in her late forties who is embarking upon a boat trip down a river? am i finally katherine hepburn? Do i learn how to run the boat? if only i had her trousers.

i spent most of the day trying to figure out what to do with myself. i had work at two, and the gaping maw of time was not my friend. i got too sweaty in the garden, i couldn’t tell if it was excessive humidity, excessive weed-angst, or a hot flash. i had a piece of cake. i watched godawful people on tv. i cried, i wept, i wondered if it is fear that was compelling me to tears or wonder. i thought about my baby as a baby. it all had little to do with the magic of the children. they are doing all that they are supposed to, living wildly and growing and stretching towards the sun. sunflowers.

the recognition, in me, of the changes, in me, the letting go of small threads of an identity which i’ve had for almost twenty years. (and hello, there are more kids at home so i have more years still) its just the beginning of an unravelling.

(and yes, i am more than curious about what becomes of this pile of thread. there is so much to be created, and in truth, it is where my upset lies. upset=turmoil, but not necessarily bad juju, you see?)

it is another stage of adulthood, and like menopause, its a bigger deal than i’d understood.

and so, today i woke to an empty house, as they are at their dad’s. and a rainstorm and a nervous dog, and a remembrance that there is a sleeping bag out on the clothesline. so be it. things are wet now.

i’ll dry out too, to a degree, but these days of mothering and being so central to the lives of other people, on such an immediate, all-consuming basis? they are changing, and the weave is loosening.

i’m not sure what i’m falling into.

love you guys.

love love,

me.

Flflame, rumi, flflame.
Humanity

The busy dead.

I’m braindead and dreaming about cigarettes. I can’t find my phone. I’m stalling going into work at the greenhouses because oh my god, its august, and greenhouses are over a hundred degrees. i run to the 95* shade like its a relief afterwards. I cannot drink enough water. I am frequently dead.

I sent a picture of myself to my best friend in wisconsin who is a nurse. and she jumped into high alert, which was not my intention. it was funny sad because i was fine, but could see her distress and feel my own distress at humanity not really being suited for outside work when the world is spinning too fast and is losing its protection from the sun.

tomorrow i drive to maine, leaving my middle at the camp of his dreams. he’s such a cool kid, and this summer i’ve been feeling all the sadness of a mom who works a lot and is not with her kids enough. and now he is gone for two weeks. bliss, for him. and bittersweet for me. sports tryouts start directly when he gets back. its a wrap.

i’m trying to write more, guys, and its not all ending up here, which is probably a relief to you, loyal readers, as maybe what i write here will begin to have more form, more direct glow/flow. Clearly, this is not happening today. I think its the impact of the driving day, the time spent just staring and thinking. I really do. I don’t even always listen to music, and the car I drive is a very zippy jetta. I am wholeheartedly in favor of the jetta, and who knew i’d ever have an opinion about a car? who knew? But I LOVE IT, and will actually consider foregoing a subaru when next I am forced to consider car buying.

zippy.

sigh. i’ve got to get ready for today’s work. the boss called and said today is a wear what you want day, which means i can forego the pants, which is a blessing of MAGNITUDE. so there is that.

love love, stay cool,

-me

Well, on second glance, i can see why she was concerned! … 😂
Humanity

Just give me a few hours in the morning.

I’m in my hammock, i’m typing in my hammock. Technology is confounding. it enables everything, and sucks everything dry. It has turned my brain to literal mush. but, i digress.

Its summertime. I mean, june used to be kind of spring-like, but with climate chaos and all, its summer. woohoo. kind of, right? its a little bit of a downer, really, but if you are running yourself into the ground, you don’t really have time to think about it.

But i do want to tell you this. i am typing in my hammock, and its the morning, and my kids are all at school and i’m done with most of what i need to do . … i even took care of a bunch of logistics, concerning their overnight stay at their dad’s tonight, permission slips/checks all left on the table to be collected and etc. etc.

I am a genie, but in nobody’s bottle baby.

I don’t need to be anywhere until 1:30, and I should be writing smut, or romantic erotica, if you feel like it, but the laundry is swinging on the line, my feet are happy to be at rest, and its all good, man.

I have a lot of things to say, and a lot of questions to ask, I really do.

One of my sons is mortified that i ask him to get rides home all the time. He says no one else does it. Is this true? Am I scandalous in my inability to drive all three all the places? Am I really? I can’t really do anything about it, but man, it feels shitty. I can’t tell if its just him or if he has a legitimate beef. He does not like me all the time these days.

But mostly, its an amazing time here. Summer. Kids will do a lot of fending for themselves this summer as I will be working six days a week. I feel unprepared but am making small motions towards getting them entertained. we will see. Summer is not really my favorite season. I know you are shocked and appalled but damn, its really true.

its hot, and getting hotter and i’m now full circle so i’m going to stop. here’s a photo of my hammock.

Yes, i know how sexy i am,. yes i do.

Love you guys. wish you all the love and support you need for whatever season you are in.

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

Morning! 6

day six of thirty days. writing myself silly for my own jollies.

Its dark out. pitch. Its slightly before seven am on a Saturday. My weekday alarm went off by accident, one of the two kids in my bed reached over my head to shut it off. Yes, two out of three.

The clocks change this weekend which always fucks me up. And I realized I’ll be doing chicken chores in the dark this week, which bites it. (I guess, I mean I’ve never fed 1200 chickens in the dark. I’m guessing its going to be fairly messy. I should invest in a head lamp maybe. Am I going to have to deal with coyotes? fug.)

I’ve been feeding the chickens at my friend’s farm twice a week. I deeply love it, once I’m there. I do. Its a challenge physically, and mentally, and I need that kind of challenge. It gets me out of the house, away from the projects and the ‘must do’ list, and outside, with 1200 little things that love me for my feeding potential.

I can see this as a way forward, once the kids are out of the house. How deeply I need something to let me love them, and care for them. How deeply I need something to run towards me with confidence and love.

Man, you got to see chickens run. It is such a delight. Little dinosaurs.

And that, my friends, is what I’m thinking about this morning, at 6:56 am, with a temperature outside of 28 F. For my brits, and irish and italians, that is slightly below freezing. I’m not doing chickens this morning, thank god. Love of warmth wins out today.

Love you, bear with me during these less pithy posts.

  • kate