July 26, 2012 § 5 Comments
Little fucking bunnies have been eating my Black-eyed Susans. At first it was kinda cute. Bunnies are cute. They started trimming my huge overflowing potted petunias and I welcomed it. They’d pop out of the ground cover while we sat on the patio and we’d watch them fill their little bellies. I even encouraged them to eat some of our very pretty ground cover gone awry. Then suddenly the Black-eyed Susans looked less voluptuous. Stems were broken, flowers missing. What?
Last year the flowers struggled because they were being choked out by trumpet vine. Nasty, invasive stuff. Well, this spring and even now we’ve worked on keeping the trumpet vine in check and finally our Black-eyed Susans were back to their glory … until … the little fucking bunnies.
I began chasing them away which didn’t do much to hinder them. I encouraged Otis to walk through the area thinking his big dog-ness would scare them off. Just the other morning I asked Otis, standing hock-high in ground cover, to get a little closer to the Black-eyed Susans. A little bunny (hiding in that same ground cover) decided I was the lesser of two evils and leapt out, smacked my shin and landed on my foot before scurrying to the other side of the patio to hide in more ground cover. Bunnies are soft.
I say thank God for the little fucking bunnies because they’re cute and they make me laugh and piss me off at the same time, but most of all they’re keeping me busy. I have a purpose. I need to keep our damn Black-eyed Susans from being demolished to a bunch of stubby stems. I was really looking forward to the Black-eyed Susans lasting into autumn along with all of my other expectations for autumn and to lose them now will really piss me off.
P.S. Yesterday I went to Home Depot and bought some Rabbit Repellent to ward them off. It’s supposed to be safe and I think it’s working, though I did just chase a little fucking bunny off. I feel bad that I’ve ruined their food and have considered feeding them, but I know that’s not good for them. They need to be wild little fucking bunnies and figure it out for themselves. I just hope they stay away from the other flowers and veggies.
P.S.S. When I first saw the bunnies all I could think about was how close in size they were to my baby Elias. I desperately wanted to hold one as I did Elias. Empty arms. I resisted the urge because again, I know it’s not good for the wild little bunnies.
July 17, 2012 § 4 Comments
Do some yoga! I told myself, I’d work on being kinder to myself. Yet, when I sit here doing other things like writing or job searching, the voice in my head screams do some yoga! It’s kind of mean. Not encouraging me with a gentle do your yoga for the day kind of tone. Instead it’s demanding and demeaning. The tone, not the words, is more like do some fucking yoga ya lazy bitch! As though I’m about to fail once again at accomplishing the one workout goal I’ve set for myself lately. At first I thought I’d jump right back into hiit and tabata workouts and running and yoga. But, lately I realize none of that is gonna happen. It just isn’t. I’m not the same person I was … before becoming pregnant and delivering a dead baby. I lack the dedication and I don’t know, oomph, from before.
I know it’s only been a month and I’m still mourning in all the ways people mourn and maybe even some new ways never before mourned. I’d talk about some of them, but I’m sure I’d be committed if I did that, so I’ll keep them to myself until the coast is clear.
July 16, 2012 § Leave a comment
Otis is like a cat. The moment I crack open the tuna can, he’s at my side. I squeeze the juice into his bowl and he laps it up leaving a sparkling dog bowl behind. Well, sparkling for a dog food bowl.
Anytime I think of Otis or cat in the same sentence I’m reminded of what has become an inside, weird joke between me and Jeremy. On occasion, I or Jer will say Do you have a cat? in a really weird voice. I’ll try to explain it here, but I’m not sure it will translate AT ALL. You have to let your mind go to a really strange, warped space, imagine an ordinary day you’ve experienced when things suddenly became a bit bizarro world for you and only you get it.
Early on when we first moved to this neighborhood, we were out for a walk with Otis when we passed two older women sitting in their pajamas on their front stoop. Both women were wearing cat eyeglasses like from the 50’s or 60’s or whenever they were the thing to wear. The stoop they were sitting on belongs to a dilapidated house with a large dumpster on the side in the driveway (the kind used during construction). Very Grey Gardens. It appeared as though they were mother-daughter or possibly sisters. As we passed their house, they complimented our gorgeous dog Otis and continued talking about what a pretty and big dog he is. Then, out of nowhere one of the ladies asked “Do you have a cat?” And, not that Do you have a cat? is the strangest question in the world, but if you could have heard how she said it. So innocent, like a child. So very sincere. So extremely curious if we had a cat. An old woman, with the voice of a little girl. In an instant I looked at Jer, he looked at me and we acknowledged without words how odd the whole set up was while Otis sniffed a bush. What adds to the strangeness is we’ve lived here three years and we’ve never seen them again. Almost like it didn’t really happen or they were ghosts or something. The house is still there with the dumpster by its side. Things about the house change (though not for better), someone must come and go, though we’ve never seen anyone. It pretty much appears deserted.
We had another moment once like this in the city. Again on a walk. We passed this big, beautiful old brick house and there were two really small women dressed in red jumpsuits. They were really small, reminded me of oompaloompas but their bodies were proportionate. They were doing something to the huge pine tree perched in front of the house. Jer and I looked at each other, acknowledged the strangeness of it and never saw them again. Both of these weird incidents were/are located on our regular paths, so it really makes no sense that we never saw either again. Well, now the story is getting boring. You should have seen the red jumpsuits. Really out of this world.
July 13, 2012 § 1 Comment
Maybe I’m just a lonely lady. A lonely lady with a jar addiction. I was walking around my house with this thought in my head of being a lonely lady. In almost every room I have jars. I can’t seem to throw them away or recycle them. I think most jars are pretty and I really think some day I’ll do something creative with them all. On top of the jars I keep, from grey poupon mustard, store bought jam or olive jars and even some pretty maple syrup and wine bottles; I recently purchased a whole bunch of mason jars. So, as I looked around with the thought in my head about being a lonely lady and noticing many jars (after washing more jars) I realized I’m like a cat lady, only married and with jars. WTF? I giggled because it’s kind of funny and very weird and something I just learned about myself. I seriously have an addiction to, I guess, hoarding jars. There are even more stashed in the basement just waiting to be turned into something creative.