Choice

Good Morning Peeps…

It is a cool fall morning…. 57F (14 C) supposed to warm up to 92F (33C) today… want to get ranch rounds done before it heats up… I’ve taken the air conditioners out of my windows… kind of regretting that… better on the electric bill though…

Yesterday seemed like a total waste… did not get much done… I needed to keep my legs elevated most of the day… argh… I did manage to shave a dog… poor little bugger… I really did not want to do that… but his coat has died and he had cheet grass in it… I kept hoping I could avoid cutting it all off… he does still have a bit on his head… after I finished he was such a happy camper… I should have done it some time ago it seems… no more cheet grass poking him embedded in his dead coat… this morning I put a shirt on him and he wiggled and danced about… as he went out to play… he will be wearing sweaters and coats this winter… as I do not believe his hair coat is coming back… several years ago he got a bot… I had the vet remove it… I’d never seen one in a dog before… after that his coat began to gradually die… he used to be such a wooly little thing with beautiful glossy black guard hair… still has that bright spirit… but the coat is gone... today he is sporting a yellow and green striped polo shirt… lol…

Saturday the smoker is supposed to come into being... the barrels arrived the day before yesterday... the stove conversion kit is in the quonset... I am curious to see how this all comes together...

I keep trying to write... and one thought starts and drifts off into another... or is written across the page then deleted… as this one may be… as to why… it just is… same has been happening with painting… drumming… I am just tired… so very very tired… I wake up with my arm stretched out across my husband’s side of the bed… I find that I have piled up the bed linens along his side of the bed and curled up to them… without being aware that I am doing so…

I made it into the feed mill in town… for the second time since David’s death… yeah I know what is the big deal about a feed mill… David used to pick up the feed there for our livestock when we had hogs… cattle… goats… sheep… and so on… sometimes they would stack it outside on the dock and when he rolled in from the rail he would go over and load it on the truck to go out to the livestock… other times I would pick it up and we would unload together… or me alone … depending on how the trains rolled in… bought feed for the kennels there for a while too… at any rate… I could barely drive by the place without having a meltdown… I actually made it in there and bought some hen feed… and alfalfa pellets…

While I was there I chatted with another widow… she lost her mate unexpectedly too… a tree took him out while he and some friends were cutting firewood… one moment he was there… then wham… gone… yeah I know… he’s all around you… memories… yatta yatta yatta… there is a huge difference between feeling someone’s presence… even when you know they are ok… and having your partner standing beside you… a huge friggen difference…

No I am not wallowing … or looking for sympathy… neither is she… one step at a time… one day at a time… sounds like such crap… but it is what it is… kinda like picking your way through an overgrown maze… some of those paths are really filled with thorns… and some days they leave you bloody and exhausted… it’s up to you… keep going or don’t keep going… it seems I have something left to do in this life… or I would no longer be here… I don’t know… don’t know how else to look at it… some days I crawl off under one of those thorn bushes… dig in under its thorns and hibernate… eventually I stick my head back out and go do ranch rounds…

There are some abstract pieces… and some mixed media pieces swirling about in my mind… I need to find some canvas and stretch it… these are bigger pieces… I suppose I could put the canvases I have together… number them on their backs… and go for it… then they could be separated and spaced… or watch and see how many different configurations they could go into… don’t know how well that would work with mixed media… but it doesn’t really matter… they tend to take on a life of their own… hmmmm….

Perhaps paint in the colors of the patches and veins showing up on my legs… blues…yellows… reds… purples… use a bit of acid or flame for the fevers burning where those patches are… have some of it fine and defined… then stretched out mottled and twisted as it swells into another shape… use blacks and grays… and dark navy blues clouding around the edges like my vision does when my blood pressure or oxygen levels drop… could use yellows… oranges… reds… perhaps some purples…. Even into black… spiking and fading like the pain that laces its way through my legs… like the rhythms in a discordant beat… feel the music in the pain… feel the pain in paint… feel the rhythms throughout… and breathe… until you breathe no more…

A receptionist at the clinic the other day… asked me how my legs were doing… and then commented that she thought they would be doing better with the weight loss… an innocent enough comment… I get it that she thought that the mess in my legs was created by the extra fat I had packed on… and that they would be all ok once the fat was gone… nope… it is easier to carry this body at 75 pounds lighter… this is true… as to the mess in my legs… as the fat recedes the engorged veins… the discolored patches that come and go… the swelling … all becomes more evident…

It was not caused by the weight gain… and will not be cured by the weight loss… would have been grand if it would have been cured by the weight loss… no I did not do this to myself by getting fat as a house… it is some genetic crap… you just deal with it… or you don’t…

Although… if I chose to come into this life… which frankly I am not so sure that I did… more likely that I pissed in someone’s coffee cup and got sent here… at any rate… If I chose to come into this life… then I suppose that yes I did do this to myself… by said choice… if not … well then not… I don’t know… it is above my pay grade… and is what it is… ya just deal with it… or ya don’t… therein lies the choice…

Well …. That was a ramble… and ranch rounds are waiting…

Ah… I smell alfalfa being cut… it is a sweet scent on the air… the windows are open…

Gratitudes: raw honey (a couple years ago that alfalfa would have shut down my breathing … the raw honey has made a difference in allergic reactions) … black coffee… one laptop that works…

Later taters…

Mary E. Robbins
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