Humanity

Sweeps

I’m at a baseball game in the middle of the day. I mean, I guess they are all in the middle of the day. Fair enough.

I spent the morning trying to arrange rides for all the kids. It was successful and everyone is going to have a good time and that makes me feel all glowy, while i feel like shit at the very same minute because I am absent. this is not good. (goddamned school vacation, and all) and then i drove to my mom’s so that she could drive me to work.

Then, at work, I spent the morning walking my boss’s dogs because one of them was having surgery and my boss was feeling crazy stress and worry and so I went with her to the vet.

And now I am here, having gotten my car out of the shop for an insanely large amount of credit card usage. Its another one of those splits. 1.I am thrilled to have my car back and I would throw any amount of debt-incurring at it to have it back. who cares? and 2. I am feeling nauseous about finances.

But i have my car, and i made it to the game to see him play. I’m good. Its all good.

And I’m sitting in my car, looking at the greens and the golds, and the faintest blue of the sky, and being swept with meloncholy. I feel watery.

I don’t see a way out of some of where I find myself, well, not a way that I like.

Sigh. You know what new phrasing has arrived in our american language that I really like?

I am feeling some type of way.

I am.

I am feeling some type of way.

But I have my car, and I made it to the game, and I am sitting in my car doing something I really love to do, write, and think, simultaneously.

So there.

I am going to find a pigpile of joy today, never you fear. But for now? Watery.

Humanity

Beef Stew

I made a nice beef stew this week. What? Kate cooked while the kids were away, and it didn’t involve eggs?! Why yes, yes I did.

Can you tell I’ve been quiet for too long today? Yes, maybe. Third person referencing is a sure sign.

But I did make a nice stew, with tips from cheffy friends, (bakers’ chocolate? oh yes.) and I took it down to my father-in-law, who is in grief and is feeling isolated. I cooked the beef in a bone broth and the nourishment is off the charts. His children call and visit beautifully, but in-between, he is not having visitors regularly and the house is echoing. I can understand. Part of the reason for my visit is that the kids are gone, I have too much time, and I know his son is away for the weekend. (with the same kids I’m missing). The sheer isolation is enough to make life warp strangely.

God, it is hard to grieve. So damn hard. How to incorporate these prickles of loss, joy, -with appreciation, love, self-reflections on our own mortality, a life reflected upon, memories of earliest life, and latest, all the temperatures mix and all at one single minute and then you are left on a ravaged beach after a tsunami. not even ready to look at the remains.

just blank.

and it happens over and over again.

I needed a very strong hug after the visit. I made it happen.

I think I need another one today. Maybe I can finagle one from my flower farm boss. I think she’s not a fan of the hugging though. I’ll go hug the guy at the quickie mart, give him a story to tell.

Its how I roll.

Love love, hug your people out there. Hug them good.

-me

Humanity

Sinking feeling.

i’ve forgotten my antidepressants for two days. (just as an fyi) Took a late dose today because I’ve started falling off the path into past losses. I even spent a minute resenting that married guy I liked so much who neglected to tell me that he was married. men can really be assholish. I know its gender fluid, that assholish-ery, but I stand by my sentence, as the body of my experience is with male assholes.

my former mother inlaw is in the hospital again, and i’ve been told now, for the third time, that she just has a little bit of time left.

She’s one of my oldest friends. I met her when I was fifteen and loved her even then, and never stopped. I will miss her terribly. I admire her so. I do not envy her children, because they really don’t know what is in store for them, despite all the assurances that they do. maybe they are in fact, different from the rest of us. time will tell i guess.

i don’t like writing bullshit like that there, but feel the need to leave it because i know how common that attitude is in me, full of resentment and past bullshittery…. just so you see me as I am.

Bullshit it is, because grief and how you feel it is yours, and yours alone and i have no right to fling my own ego on this situation.

its going to be a large loss, and we will all feel it.

I’m making cookies. Plain old chocolate chip. Enough to fill the cookie jar and more.

I’ll get through, changed, but through.

love you all.

-kate

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

Alligator Tears.

Honestly, I’m not sure that I’m using that metaphor right. Is there some element of mischief there? Or fraud? I can’t remember and there is no one here to ask. and honestly, i really resist searching things up on the internet that are better found out in conversation.

today is a cry day. big fat loppers, and little ones that I don’t know are coming. puddles.

I spent 1500 on a plumber yesterday to bring us up to a level with this century in terms of my well. It was definitely money well spent as we all took satisfying showers for the first time in ages, if a little bit extra iron-y. but they were the third plumber visit in two weeks. THIRD.

and this morning I had a hard time waking up, and stumbled around the kitchen to make my coffee and there was no water. there was no water dude.

humpty landed his first whallop.

so in pitch black i go into the basement because needs must. and for the love of god, it all looks like it did yesterday, for all i can tell. and so i come back to the kitchen, soothing myself that there are no spiders in my hair and that my house is not in imminent danger of explosion.

2. my mom calls. 3.boys go to school with bitchery. lots of it. showers work, other places have water. so that is a win. 3.1 i drive mom home from her car shop. 4. get a call from my car shop. next week is hopefully the last day i spend at the dealership. maybe. but thats another grand. i’m officially worried about money and whether i have enough working as i am, or if i need to just go ‘get a job’ like my kids stupidly say because they are sometimes assholes.

5.my ex offers to host the eight year olds birthday party at his house of fun and i dream of his immolation. i do not say this to him because its completely irrational but then 6. i book a party at a trampoline place that i now officially cannot afford. I hate these months. I have forgotten how much I hate these months. Two birthdays, anniversary of my dad’s death and the big holidays.

7. I’m officially in pre-menopause and I can’t tell what my hormones are raising and what the devil is raising and what my actual life is raising.

I’m having a day of official overwhelm when the worries are winning. so be it. let it be known though, that …

i fixed my damn sink guys. my own damn self.

for seven dollars.

and i’m crying some more. i’m fine. i’m fine. i am. even in the pit, i am my own fucking little candle, right?

fucking hell.

maybe its crocodile tears. is that milli vanilli or elvis or something?

fug.

love you, even though i’m a slumpy mess.

-kate

raindrops
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