Humanity

Plant sale, midstream

There is a second weekend of plant sale. It arriveth momentarily. Based on the numbers so far, I have outspent my profits by a factor of three. In some ways, this makes total sense, because my expenses included things that I will never have to purchase again. Grow lights, a seedling heat mat, a shelving unit for the trays, etc. Next year’s numbers will look radically different.

But man, it doesn’t make my heart flutter in a good way.

I’ve been coming home from longer work days (everyone is doing the same thing at the same time and my back is sore and I’ve already got a farmer’s tan.) and then repeating the work in my own garden. I cannot get the dirt out of the creases of my hands.

There is something glorious in this, and utterly romantic to the girl who feels romantic about these things, and yet I’m fall down tired, middle-aged, and the kids keep wanting food. I don’t even like pizza anymore and its so damn expensive to fall that way. They just keep wanting food.

The one thing that i did sell that was a boon was bouquets. I made little bouquets from the flowers given to me by flower boss and they jumped right out of my hands. At eight bucks, they were a steal and they were stolen. Makes me wonder and feel happy that i’ve been planting my flower beds so well this year. I wonder if there is a drive-by market for bouquets on my street. Hmm.

But I’m tired, man. Very tired. And yes, energized in my core. Growing things is pretty damn magical.

IF YOU WANNA SING OUT, SING OUT.

Humanity

FLIP FLAP, Zombie Mom scuffle.

A list, and a lot of mind-flakes.

  1. I hate Putin. I cannot understand. I heard a guy on tv saying america is weak but supporting him by buying oil. this from the same citizen-base who blames gas prices on presidents. I’m so confused by the way people look at things. I just cannot understand any of this and my heart is broken for a mindset that says its okay to destroy a nation, for any reason at all. What the fuck.
  2. I don’t watch tv news. But I get suckered by what shows up on my computer screen sometimes. Flickering light of doom.
  3. I am having a hard time with my brain. Adjusting to life outside of my house is proving much more difficult than I’d imagined. (i mean, realistically, not hard, but listen..) I’ve spent most of sixteen years completely at-home. Time moves differently here. There were jobs, small ones. There was and is, a pandemic. Time and space give my brain an elasticity that goes away when everything is rush and hurry. The scheduling of my life has taken a new, more powerful role and yes, i can adjust. I keep bumping into these speed bumps though, and i fall off the road. For instance, I don’t take a lunch at any of these jobs, because what? lose money? no. So, i arrive home around 2 or 2:30 without having had food. I’m not good at feeding myself, and the kids are home and so i forget. So, I’m derailing around 4, moving automatically but not well, and thinking about making dinner or preparing it, and then suddenly its taxitime or bedtime, and i haven’t written, haven’t done a single thing for my inner world, and goddamnit. Its a problem.
  4. Zombie mom is not a good mom.
  5. I’m having a giant plant sale in May. Snapdragons, pansies, sunflowers, nasturtium, you name it, come and buy it. Me. All me. And both my farmers are trying to help me and dude, nothing is planted yet. How does one wrap one’s brain around so much potential and possible disaster all at once? I do not know. I’m sometimes freaking out.
  6. Zombie mom is not a good mom.
  7. I’m starting another refinance process. I’m starting my taxes. They both feel just as good as each other. Skunks with porcupine quills. Imagine that.
  8. Hi, and I’m sorry I haven’t written more. Believe me.
From awhile ago, but goddamnit. I own this post. Here I am.

Humanity

well then, or, Eat your Joy.

I’m coming in from the cold to let you know that i’ve had my most profitable month ever here at lovelove, and i want to be open and transparent with you about how i am doing, financially.

I made $1.39 from the ads that you see alongside the writing, this month alone. Those ads that i have no control over, except to allow them. This brings me to $13.27 since 7/2018. Never let it be said that writing is not lucrative, friends. I am living proof. I only have to reach $100 before they’ll write me a check, so there.

Just wanted you to know. Suze Orman, eat my grits.

Now.

I’m doing okay. I have dreams going on, and meditations, and sadness, and sacredness. I’m clearly on the cusp of some things and trying to jar myself into action, smooth bumps and load vehicles and the like.

I’m working more days of the week, outside and I love the feeling of my heart pumping as I carry feed and water for the hens. And baskets and baskets of eggs. I’ve also started at a flower farm nearby, and between the two, I am awash in beauty regularly.

Its all experimental, after all, this life. Its all experimental. I mean, experiential. exponential?

Make sure you are fed, dear ones.

Eat up your joy.

Lovelove,

me.

selective focus photography of joy free standing letters with lights
A word I happen to have above my stove, but haven’t photographed, so I’m stealing someone else’s …Photo by Natasha Fernandez on Pexels.com
Humanity

what i’m doing.

  • i’m crying a fair amount, but now my eyes hurt and i’m trying not to.
  • i’m meditating most days. a guided meditation, so i have even less opportunity to think. thinking is the enemy.
  • i’m working part time in a flower greenhouse, to learn, because i’m dreaming of having my own greenhouse lately and goddamnit, those things are not cheap and are a whole big deal. they arrive unassembled, goddamnit, and empty. (laughing.)
  • i’m gathering all my dreams into a big pile to see what I can make of them, try to make my life something more independent, more in line with the joy and the contentment I have and want more of. fuck ‘work in the schools’. swear to god, i hear that one more time and i will buy a gun.
  • i’m sinking into a deep melancholy that I feel in my chest, losing one of my best supports and loves is an unbalancing force, and I am aware, and so I am doing my best to reach out and gather new supports, and use the ones I have. hello sister. nods.
  • i’m fine. its january. things percolate. i have a working coffee maker, and vitamins. i’ll make it.

love love,

me.

structure with floral design and lights
Yeah, this is NOT how I’m feeling. Photo by Scott Webb on Pexels.com
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