I am feeling decidedly cold-y this afternoon, my nose running freely and my eyes sort of burning; you know that feeling that you get, where your head is all stuffed up and you just know that as soon as the couch starts, you are done for? Yeah, THAT feeling. So I haven’t been feeling especially inspired to write anything. Well-not true; in my head I have these great posts all composed, you know the kind that will just knock people’s socks off, but alas, they just aren’t making it any further than my head.
I am annoyed because all that pumpkin I canned? Spoiled. For whatever reasons, the lids on the jars didn’t seal correctly; this is actually the first time that has ever happened to me, so I am not sure what I did wrong, or if perhaps the lids themselves were faulty. Either way, I ended up dumping out every.single.jar. I am hoping to be able to can another batch this weekend, though-the upside being that since Halloween is just around the corner, pumpkins are going to be cheap as dirt.
More drama with the backyard neighbor, who suddenly reappeared this week. She hasn’t pissed me off yet, just-I don’t know. We were outside last night, Steve and I, and she came over the the gate and started talking to us. Steve (chickenshit) quickly made some excuse and went and hid in the house while she was there, which I thought terribly unfair (he said, “I don’t want her thinking she is MY friend!” Thanks a lot, buddy. Really). Anyway, kind of out of the blue she said, “You know, my husband just left me for another woman after 12 years, and I just now begged him to just please love me again. How pathetic is that?” Yep, pretty pathetic, and I know that because I did the very same thing with MY ex-husband; just begged him to please love me. You can see how well that worked out, so I am pretty sure it is going to work out the same for her. For some reason, now that I know that, I can understand the rage I witnessed last week or whenever that was; because I have been there, too. Still and all, I don’t want her to think I am her friend; most of the neighbors have slowly come to the realization that we are not, in fact, friendly people, so with hope she will get the hint as well.
I just got off the phone with one of my sisters; it is funny, she says, “Have you talked to your mother lately?” and I say, “No, have you talked to yours?” and of course we have the same mother. Neither of us have talked to her, either, in case any of you were wondering. We have all made a pact of sorts-unspoken, but a pact nonetheless-that none of are going to get embroiled in the bullshit this year about the holidays. She has her family (the bar buddies), we have our families (partners, husbands, kids, chosen families) and never the twain shall meet-at least NOT this year. We are going guilt-free, too, kind of like sugar-free only ultimately more satisfying.
I think-well, I don’t know. It feels like I am a little less conflicted than usual about the relationship-or lack thereof-with my mom right now. I don’t know how much of it has to do with acceptance of the reality of it all (which I have to do over and over again at different times of the year, I must admit) or how much is to do with simple lack of energy to deal with it or maybe I am just numb. But see, I am the youngest of four, and my mom tells me that she is closest to me not because she IS, but because then she can use me as a sort of, I don’t know, wedge? between me and the others, and I just-I don’t know. I get sucked in time and time again by that tiny little hope that maybe she really does love me, and I am making a pact to myself that I am not doing it anymore. Not this year, anyway.
And as if this post hasn’t been quite random enough, I have recently rediscovered the delights of Butterfinger candy bars. Are they not absolutely wonderful? I haven’t eaten one in a coon’s age, and had forgotten the chocolatey, peanut-buttery deliciousness. No wonder my pants aren’t fitting any longer!
So. Parent-Teacher conference tonight for Hannah, which means a quick meal of macaroni and cheese and hot dogs; score for me. With luck, Owen will actually get bathed tonight, and God help the dog who wakes me up at 4:00 in the morning like they both did this morning. Believe me, I don’t care how cute they are, I will de-bark the little bastards permanently if I have to.