odd-ends

So it's spring break week for the children. Nothing like spring break to make you want a break? Holy shiz. I mean I'm hormonal, so life perspective is inherently skewed. But ho.ly.shiz.

Rather than one long blog-story, my recent life exists on bits of scrap paper ~

We tilled the garden-earth. Add moss and manure and it's already looking better than Year 1. Planted lettuce and peas and soon eggplant and tomatoes, courtesy of mom. Go garden go! That's my favorite day of the whole year possibly, fraught with sunshine and hope and possibility.

Directly before said gardening, the following occurred in the span of maybe 30 minutes: a tick crawled up my leg. a wasp dive-bombed my head. a black widow spider lurked in the soil. An omen of anything? Maybe the actual tick bite discovered later, which STILL ITCHES and I assume will continue to do so for three months, like they do.

No job for now. Maybe August. I mean it makes sense and I get it, but still feel whiny and tragic about the cold hard facts. Freelance filler in the meantime is just so unreliable. Friggin' ugh it stresses me out.

The Sophie has tripled in size during her 7 weeks here, weighing in at 21 pounds. Vet visit number three we took in our usual stride. Next month: last shots and spaying. At a reduced cost we hope.

Starship Lo.Co. allows us to do magical things like tote large objects places and so we finally got rid of that crappy front door sitting in our garage for a year and the stupid lawnmower that ran over a culvert last year. I don't know what that thing was thinking when it went all suicide bomber - had nothing whatsoever to do with its driver, I mean it. So anyway, we left this sign taped to its handlebars in case someone wanted to adopt it. And because we just could not help ourselves. 

On ep 2 of Jericho; it's scratching the Netflixitch for the moment. 

My hag-neighbor's husband has gone to the hospital/nursing home again. Which is a good thing as far as caretaking goes, in that she won't have to live that exhausting existence anymore and he'll have the care he needs. But also it means she's more available to suck one into a conversation, and I hate talking to her. Because as regularly mentioned and oft-noted, she is a hag. So I'm totally happy for her! but she still sucks. 

We're on a SuperMario kick here, in which mommy conquers new worlds and N.Lo thinks I'm wicked awesome. And he has that video game brain that daydreams and devises new plans. But hell if I can't conquer the volcanic hellfire that is World 8! I secretly want to play without an audience sometimes just to make some strides. 

I love church as usual but am currently maxed with it - in accordance with hormonalness - blah. Stupid leadership and bible study - don't. wanna - any of it. But I don't know. Potluck et al tonight could be a welcome distraction from springbreaking? If the brownie fairy would come and make some for me or whatever. 

Onward to another day with library, futile-freelance, puppy-play and not-killing the children!

xoxox

pen 

current conclusions -

I’m over the fish tank.Why did I replace it. I don’t want to clean it. It’s a pain in the ass. Verging on an eyesore. I kind of secretly wish the fish would die peaceably and then I can be done with the whole fishy affair. But they’re so damn hardy, those five remaining fish. Ugh.

I love oak trees. Spring, fall, dead of winter – doesn’t matter. Hands down the best tree shape and really it’s my favorite ever. Oak.

I’m also an idiot. Because for a few months now I’ve been all, I would love an oak tree for the yard! Wouldn’t that be cool to watch it grow. And while I was mowing today I realized the two young trees in our backyard are oak trees. Duh. It’s kind of like the lavender discovery, only less serendipitous than stupidly obvious.

Occasionally I wonder why any of us ever have children. Okay, maybe not everyone – allegedly there are people out there who love children. I’ve seen these people. They do exist. And I wish I was one of them. I mean – I love my children. Of course I do. But half the time I don’t know what to do with them, and the other half they’re vexing me with their noise and their needs.  And in-between those halves I feel like I am penning their therapy pages. Bleh. Children.

I feel like it’s probably time for a change in routine so maybe I won’t feel that way about children. Because I don’t always. Just right now, the feeling is very strong.

Bourbon and ginger isn’t bad. I’m not sure it’s awesome. I’m not drinking any right now, but I did try some yesterday evening. Much sweeter and less a chest-hair tonic than I ever imagined.

Mowing the lawn trumps vacuuming every time. I hate vacuuming. But I also hate mowing in the oppressive heat, which makes my face turn reddish-purple. In spite of how much cold water I drink. And then every member of my household harasses me about said purple face. Which annoys me. Especially having just toiled in the hot sun.

A lot of things annoy me.

I’m even annoyed by it being nearly midnight. And I feel neither sleepy nor accomplished, considering the day gone by. Many undone things loom over my head. Annoying. But that’s all I’ve got for now.

irritatedly yours,

pen

almost wednesday summer (yard) extraveganza