Building things

I like to build things.  Well, actually, I like to think about building things because the actual building is too overwhelming for me.  I can read a map and follow a recipe and sew from a pattern, but the ability to construct items out of wood and metal confounds me.  I mark it down to my low self esteem and fear of math.  Angles, squares, computing measurements and degrees are beyond my ability and skill level.  I’m really great at starting the project, getting frustrated and then leaving it in pieces.

Yes, I could ask my husband (love you honey!); but he is a procrastinator and also likes to make project bigger (and harder) than they need to be.  And then we’re BOTH frustrated and the project is still in pieces.  For examples, see our kitchen, bedroom, and garage and ask about my worm bin.

Sure, I can buy kits or hire someone to build them for me, but that’s expensive.  I have the greatest intentions of building it “from scratch” and saving money while taking some pride in what I’ve created.

So, here I sit, wanting a greenhouse and putting it off because buying a kit is too expensive (for what I want).  And, building one has so many questions and what if’s attached that I have raised it to anxiety status and not getting past the “we’re going to put it there” position.

Happy Friday

So this morning I woke up with every intention of going back to bed.  It was the plan after all; a reward for another crazy week of kid watching and taxiing around.  No shower, not getting dressed, dropping off A at school (without getting out of the car) and crawling back into my warm bed; just a lazy morning in bed until about 10:30 when I’d get ready and go pick up my afternoon kid.

Instead I turned on the light and finished a book I’ve been reading Henry’s Sisters by Cathy Lamb.  The book started out slow and there are some VERY crazy people in this book but it kept me involved and about the last quarter of the book I started crying and pretty much cried for the remainder of the book.  It’s not a sad book, per se, but it’s a book about sad, crazy people figuring out that they’re not the only sad, crazy people in this world.  

Anyway, I finished the book – after being interrupted by the dog who I swear can smell toilet paper a mile away.  I had gotten up mid-tears to get some TP so I could blow my nose and wipe my face; the dog decides that NOW is a good time to jump on the bed for snuggle time, but not before he has to investigate the TP.  He tried to eat it.  So here I am crying, in bed, trying to keep the dog from eating the TP that I’ve blown my nose in and cried on and trying to finish a book.  

Dog finally stops trying to get the TP, settles down and I finish; sobbing, tears streaming down my face, sinuses completely stopped up (doesn’t help that they were draining from fall allergies either).  I’m awake now.  More awake than if I’d taken a shower or had a few cups of coffee.  So I untangle my feet from the now comfortable dog, pick up my bathrobe (I have to un-wedge it from the 50lb fur ball that is lying atop it) and walk to the bathroom.

And slam my little toe into the card table that acts as a dog deterrent to the cat room that’s in the hallway.  Then the card table falls ON MY FOOT.  

Happy Friday.  I should have just stayed in bed, but I have a list of things to do and now my sinuses are clear (thanks to the good cry and a hot shower), my caffeine levels are being replenished and my perspective on what is really important in life has been illuminated.

Life is not about the tables that fall on your feet; it’s about getting back up and doing what needs to be done no matter what has fallen on you.  And that having a good cry first thing in the morning isn’t necessarily a bad thing.

A "Typical" Wednesday

I'm not bragging; I just wanted to sit down at some point and write down what a typical "Wednesday" is for me now.

This has been my day today:

6:05       A arrives

              Use the bathroom

6:35       alarm goes off

              Make sure B is out of bed

7:00       Make sure B is dressed and has fed dog

7:15       Shower, cup of coffee

7:25       J & H arrive

              B leaves for school

              Put dinner in crock pot

              J & H breakfast

              2^nd cup of coffee

8:00       Dress H

8:15       K arrives

8:30       load all kids in car

8:50       J at school

9:00       A at school

9:05       Bank, then home

              K sleeping

9:30       H breakfast (2^nd breakfast)

10:55    pick E up at school

12:20    pick Be up at school

1:00       E & H nap time

              Prep vegetables for dinner        

              B home from school, homework

2:00       pick J up at school

              J homework

2:15       lunch (mine)

3:15       pick A up at school

              Homework (all)

              Finish dinner

4:00       serve B dinner

4:45       B to practice

5:00       serve dinner (rest of kids)

4-5:00   kids picked up (various times)

6:30       AWANA

8:45       Dinner (mine)

11:00     Collapse

Seasons of Change

It is with great joy that I plant my vegetable garden every year; mixed with great sadness.

The joy is in working the soil, smelling the chicken manure and the fresh dirt as it’s turned.  Deciding where and what to plant – how many tomato plants this year and what kind?  What design will I place everything in?  Will I try to grow carrots again this year or attempt something else?

Joy in watching the bare dirt turn from unending, weed-less brown to rows of green seedlings.  Joy in watching those seedlings get bigger, spread, bloom, and bear their crop.  Joy and, yes, pride as my neighbors ask about my garden:  “what do you fertilize with?  They’re so BIG!  Oh you’re the house with all the tomatoes in the front!”  Joy as I’m able to make salsa and sauce and salads (all those begin with “s” – interesting).  Joy as I can name each of the plants and herbs and give examples of what I use them for; joy as I think about the next year’s harvest and what I’ll plant and if I’ll have my greenhouse by then so I can have year-round fresh veggies.

I feel sadness as I watch the seedlings die because I planted too early and sadness when the blossoms fall and the leaves take over the garden.  Sadness, too as I watch the harvest develop and the days get longer and the weeds sprout up again.  There is a sadness with every day and every harvest because I know the season will soon be at an end and my little plot of dirt will return to just that.  Dirt.

Already it’s October and the weather is cool and I’ve harvested the last of my beautiful tomatoes, potatoes, lettuce, sage, parsley, lemon balm and strawberries. 

Spring will be here again soon, won’t it?