Lessons in the Dirt-more or less

Wishing I wasn’t here. Yet, at the same time, I’m glad to be in my yard and garden and house. (usually) The last couple of nights I’ve been sleeping in the living room with the cats. To keep them from bothering The Craftsman while he gets the dubious amount of sleep he can. (he did a home sleep study, but he’s not heard back from the clinic yet. He got an MRI the other day on his neck. Aging is hard on a body!) I leave for the north in a bit more than a month. They will miss me when I go, no one will be here to make dinner again. (speaking of, I need to get that started soon. Chicken soup) I had to cancel my appointment with my MS doctor. It was for the end of July and I cannot dash back to the states and then turn around and go back north. No one knows what tomorrow brings, even when it is planned for. My next appointment is in November. We’ll see. I am hoping my primary doctor can reinstate the Vitamin D dosage I was on. (I sincerely felt better taking so much, even if those numbers on the blood tests were significantly higher than they were supposed to be.) There is a great deal to do and I’m not eager to do any of it!

Photo by Gratisography on Pexels.com

I was driving back to the house yesterday, thinking about where I am. I am not sure if there is a romantic love in my marriage. I’m pretty sure it is a caring, duty, sort of love. I have serious diseases that are mostly taken care of. I have a house I enjoy here (not the place, the house!) I mostly get to do things I want to do (I have mentioned several times we should go driving in the Mercury. I was out working in the yard last Sunday and The Craftsman came down to say if I wanted, he could get the car out. Surprised, I mentioned it was close to dinner and did he have time. He said not really, but it would be a good thing to spend time with me. I gently reminded him I was dirty and would need to get tidy and perhaps we should go a different day. He agreed. He also was supposed to grill our dinner, but wasn’t home til almost a half hour after I usually eat. I made dinner in the new frying pan Little Bear bought me. It was delicious, The Craftsman was a bit annoyed and said he got home as soon as he could.). It is crazy. This guy habitually watches Hallmark movies, so he must have romance in his soul. He is a very good kisser (when they happen) and he’s always touching me if we are in the same area. Yet…there is something missing. If I was a betting sort, I’d bet it was enjoyment.

I often wonder what I can do to make things better. I see so many instances where I ask and nothing happens (like the driving). I was going to make an earring holder. I bought some items and found out The Craftsman was working on a plan. It is in the basement in bits. I have a cross puzzle decoration idea I’ve been wanting to create for YEARS and The Craftsman was given the shape sizes and he’s still working on it. I know I need to sort through my things and get rid of some..they are underneath debris belonging to The Craftsman or Little Bear!!! (Moving their stuff is akin to misaligning a rocket booster!)

I was sharing with TnT that I felt a bit like a plant in the kitchen. It isn’t a Boston Fern, but an African Violet. It is green and has a million leaves, is huge, and is taken care of each week. But, it hasn’t bloomed in years. I seem to bloom best in Alaska.

One of the things I did this week was pull a root. It reminded me a great deal of life. (I was also struck by a comment made by Jack about pulling them up instead of letting them stay in the ground) One of the things I don’t like about spring is pulling up baby trees and flowers. This particular locust was rather tall and I wanted it out of my flower garden. So, I decided to take it out. I eventually cut it off when I got to the fence. The darn thing went under the fence and sidewalk and I’d already managed to get almost on my belly to remove it! (The lighter bit near the shovel handle is the ‘tree’ part.)

I found out later it had been mostly dug up when the septic line had been put in last summer. Then, it had been reburied. (I wanted to cry, but I suppose it was good for me to get on my knees in the dirt!) When we find things that need sorted and rebury them, it isn’t as simple to pull them out again later. They make more rootlets and start to grow again. This was also a sucker broken off the main towering tree in the middle of the yard. Suckers are little bits of trees pulling life from the host. They can sometimes be dug up and moved, creating a new tree, and even more rarely, they can be left alone to grow uninhibited, but more often, they just need taken out. My marriage has those reburied bits where I’m supposed to sedately grow the way I should. Or maybe they are bits that need removed? That is the problem with analogies, they work in many situations!!!

6 thoughts on “Lessons in the Dirt-more or less

  1. Interesting question you raised on love in a marriage. A lot of my friends have complained of the lack of romantic love as their role became one of just going with the flow of marriage. Marriage is hard work and I admire you for your role in your yours, taking care of your late mum, the garden and your children. Take care and know that you are thought of across the continents in my lil red dot.

    Liked by 1 person

    • I’m glad my boys are grown..for the most part! (are they ever really grown??) lol I’m getting to the point where going with the flow is so tiring. But, on the other hand, my health is deteriorating to the point where diving into a marriage to dig out the roots is too much work! If I had known when I was 24 how worn out I’d be almost 30 years later..I’d have laughed! Now, I just wonder if I should use the cane I have against the wall….


  2. Kris, I understand your feelings about your marriage and life in general. Just to add to the mix of your thoughts on ‘why?’… Menopause, as it approaches, causes us to try and hang on to that which is slipping away. Namely, our feelings of being relevant and loved. As Menopause progresses, it sharpens some of our thoughts into belligerence and we watch, bewildered, as romance slips from our grasp. It is us who change, physically, emotionally, and mentally. We become less nurturing and start to think more like men (selfish thoughts sneak in rather regularly). The trick is to try to accept that we have changed and compensate for it as much as we can. We are not needing to cut away the ‘sucker’ parts. Rather, we need to help the aging tree stay stable and healthy so that the suckers don’t affect it much! 😉


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