Saturday, June 6, 2009

Oh woe.

The past week's been a bitch. Or rather, I have. I think I've lost it. Legs and Noodle have been playing squabble all week, and no, that wasn't a typo. My patience with them is at an end. I've gone on laundry strike with Legs. So disgusted am I by the clumps of fetid clothing littering her bedroom floor that I've refused to do any more of her laundry - at least until the sight of her struggling to do it herself unhinges me and makes me recant.

I have three months of New Yorker magazines and twelve books by my side of the bed, unread.

In two weeks I leave for a Jin Shin Jyutsu class in Ireland and my notes are as jumbled as they were 6 months ago when I smugly announced that I had plenty of time to get them ship-shape for June. What was the road to hell paved with again? No, don't tell me.

My hay fever has returned, reducing me to a pathetic blob of snot and snuffles, robbing me of sleep. It feels like there's an elephant sitting on my chest. If I'm outdoors for more than 10 minutes, the sneezing and coughing begin. I worry, too, that the sneezing fits I get when driving are turning me into a liability on the road.

Spring, thou art a bitch sometimes.

Everything in the garden is on the rampage, with nettles and dandelions leading the charge.  Evil bindweed is back. The brunnera and the linnaria have migrated out of their beds. Deep pink foxgloves are canoodling with yellow poppies, and it looks all wrong somehow. The raised beds will never get done now and the baby cabbage will have to grow in pots. Roquette (arugula) has sprouted all over the cracks on the terrace. I used to pay a premium for this stuff at the Delhaize only to have the children turn their noses up at it. I felt sure they'd change their minds about roquette if we grew it at home; so we did, and they didn't. At this point, trying to stay on top of anything in the garden feels like shutting the stable door after the horse has bolted. My horticultural get-up-and-go has gotten-up-and-left. Bugger the damn garden.

I mourn the demise of these beloved gloves. I loved them, literally, to pieces. They've been with me since the day 20 years ago when we planted the skinny little wisteria vine which now threatens to gobble up the house.


And to cap a perfectly dreary week, Belgium goes to the polls tomorrow for the regional and European elections. I don't know if there's anything more depressing than Belgian politics, except maybe Philippine politics and I want no part of either. America gets the magnificent Mister Obama, and we at the crossroads of Europe get to choose between the likes of Louis Michel and Elio Di Rupo and a host of other buffoons? Que barbaridad!

It's time to get my gratitude bowl out. I notice it's become dusty from lack of use, so busy have I been with doing that I've left no time for being.

5 comments:

crestaola said...

Meg! You're doing a great job. Even when you don't think so. Sending you lots of oomph! from across the Atlantic. You'll have fun in Ireland. Never mind the laundry. Stay on strike. Hope your allergies subside!!

Anonymous said...

Oh, dear Meg!
There has to be a Jin Shin Jyutsu position/ hold (don't know the "correct" word...) for this that doesn't include balling hand(s) into fist(s) & planting hard & repeatedly on nearest animate or inanimate object(s).
It's (past) time for that inner committee to take a looooong vacation (I'm sending mine to Siberia, would yours like to come with? -- and they're taking all these parentheses with them! What IS up with that, anyway!?!)
Much love. (UNanonymously...Pat)

Kristin Summerlin said...

Thank you for the link to your post about your gratitude bowl. Exactly what I need *right now*. I'm off to search for the appropriate vessel right now. There has to be something in this house I can use.

(No patching the gloves, eh? Too bad. They have the beauty of well-used things.)

Megatonlove said...

Thank you, crestaola and Pat, for your comments. I tend to think I'm having the most awful time in the world until I share it out there and people get back to me to say they've also been there, or worse. The perspective I get back from you is not only welcome but necessary. I'm finding that blogging's a great way to vent.

Kirstin - sadly, my gloves can't be patched or even darned - the leather at the fingertips has worn as thin as paper. I need to find new gloves and break them in.

Naturelady said...

Was it only a mere month ago that I posted a similar Mom-in-distress post and you wrote some kind encouraging words? Well, for me it only took a 6-day camping vacation away from the dreaded household with its HUGE pile of laundry, to get me thoroughly out of that funk and back to my normal "je ne care pas"... Laundry did not get done this weekend either, on account of having spent a wonderful sunny Sunday gardening & doing dandelion patrol...
Hope you have a GRAND trip to Ireland, and by the time you get back Legs might even have taken over the laundry duties:)