It appears as though my little house guest for the next week found a sleeping buddy. ♥
We had a jam packed weekend, filled with some bits of fun but also a lot of work. Sunday we tackled putting the office back together after the “why didn’t I remember how much I hated painting before I decided to paint this room” project. Which involved going through the office closet and all of our computer stuff – the books, cables, CDs, random bits of computer parts, paperwork, etc. There were a lot of things that both the Mr and I have held onto for more years than we should have.
The whole day gradually built up to a meltdown, on my part, rivaling that of one you might see on an episode of A&E’s show Hoarders. Going through boxes of things that have been with me for 10+ years was hard. In that moment it didn’t matter that I had forgotten about the items. Throwing stuff out was like throwing away pieces of my life. The games I used to play when I was a kid, the books I used to learn how to write CGI/Perl, the music CD’s I used to listen to… I broke down. I cried. I felt stupid. I know it’s just stuff and it’s not the item itself that matters, it’s the memory I have of it. I’m not losing those memories. But irrational emotions won out over logic.
So we quit. We’re not done, yet – the office is still in a state of disarray. There are still things to go through, get rid of, etc. But I’m saving it for another day. One where I’m more prepared and at peace with letting things go. And I’m doing it in smaller pieces, because clearly I’m more emotional about my stuff than I originally thought.
Speaking of letting go…
Tomorrow this pretty little thing goes to a new home. After yesterday’s meltdown I planted myself firmly on the sofa and knit and knit and knit some more until this lovely little blanket was finished. I’m slightly sad that I spent all those hours on something just to hand it over to someone else (selfish knitter is selfish), but I’m glad that it’s finally done and blocking and that I can move on to other things. I’m eyeing the Afternoon Tea shawl to knit in some handspun, but I feel as though I might need something quick and easy – perhaps a hat, or maybe finish the pair of no-purl Monkeys I’ve been working on during long car rides.
This morning I took some rounds around the garden, taking stock of the spring growth around this place. I’ve realized that, despite my best efforts, things just continue to grow. Because I quite certainly do my best to kill them (not on purpose, of course). The blueberry bush has its little leaf nubs, as does my hydrangea, crabapple tree, and raspberry. The rhubarb is still going strong, pushing bright pink and green growth out of the brown earth.
When I look around, I see a lot of work ahead of me. The vegetable garden needs cleaned out and prepped. Trellises need built. Rain barrels need installed. There’s a lot of manual labor in store for me, especially when I put off a lot of it in the fall. There’s also a lot of expense that I’m really not looking forward to. Trellises need purchased, rain barrels need equipment to install them, and we’ve got a cubic yard or two of mulch to buy and install to help with weed control (which has gotten increasingly out of control with each season’s passing).
Sigh. I promised myself that this year would be different, and that this would be the year that things didn’t look like such a cluster. But I’m afraid maybe this will just be another year of watching things go to hell.
It’s a melancholy kind of day. I think it’s just that time of year. The weather has been unusually nice lately – not at all like February should be. I have clear recollection of the first day of March, one year much longer ago than I like to think, where the weather was warm and spring-like and I was driving with my windows down and the music blaring. Now, it seems, the weather has shifted and it’s the first days of February that we’re getting our first taste of spring. Which is cruel of Mother Nature to do to those of us whose souls ache and long for the day that we get our hands muddy in the soil.
I decided to order myself a new book today and take on a new skill: cheese making. I let myself sink into a black hole of farm envy these last few days, so in my attempt to drag my ass out of it and back to reality I decided that I needed to just keep doing what I can to pursue the dream and keep moving forward. I’ve already tried my hand at yogurt, which I’m more or less comfortable with, so why not take the next step? And, as I like to reason with myself, some day I hope to have a dairy goat on our someday farm and I’m going to need to do something with all of that fresh milk. So I might as well learn to make cheese.
Saturday I attend a community gardening workshop. Our garden is our backyard, rather than a community garden, but I thought it would be interesting to go anyway and see what I learn. I’m far from a gardening expert, mostly doing this whole thing half-assed and flying by the seat of my pants, so I’m really looking forward to it. And, if nothing else, it gets me out of the house and out there meeting other people who might have some similar interests.
Just a few short days since my last post this little hyacinth has really started to bloom. There is a small hint of its sweet scent if you’re close enough to it – I could smell it while I took pictures – but not enough to perfume the entire room. I think I have a love of photographing flowers because they fade so quickly. Too quickly, if you ask me. Sometimes I wish I lived in a warmer climate where I could have blooming flowers year-round, but I try to remind myself that the bitter, barren winter makes me appreciate little things such as this so much more.
Though the winter equinox is over a month behind us, the days still darken early. A dismal gray fog settled among the trees and fields today, contrasted by amber-shaded grass in the ditches. It was beautiful and eerie all at once. The image brought Sleepy Hollow to mind.
Candles glow on the dining room table, the kitchen, the bathroom, etc for extra light indoors. I still have my holiday tree up simply because I love the soft glow the lights give off despite the holidays being well over. My oil lanterns are nearly out of fuel. I spend my evenings trying to make up where Mother Nature left off.