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gut spigot

We were able to fix the lawn mower, so we have a working mower for now, and I was able to finish mowing the lawn. It probably seems silly to anyone else, but I was very close to break down level over this.

I am seriously considering turning part of the back yard into a wildflower garden instead of just grass. My mom's old garden was almost 1,000 square feet, which is pretty much as big as the house itself, and that plus the side and front yards is a lot of lawn to have to mow. If I ringed out an area in bricks, put down some cardboard to kill the grass, cover it in compost (there is a huge compost bin here, already full, so thanks, mom!) and get one of those organic butterfly garden/ native plant blends. It might work.

Or maybe it would turn into a disaster. I don't know. There would still be plenty of room for raised veggie beds. This property is a lot bigger than the one in Rochester. Well, maybe it's about the same, but the yard is bigger because the house and garage are a lot smaller.

All I know is I can't be out in the UV and the heat very often. And I hate mowing the lawn. I'd rather clean a bathroom. And that says a lot. Mowing is one of the few obligations I still have. It's a social and legal obligation and every part of me wants to wave my little fist in its face and say fuck you motherfucker. Man VS nature on a strictly imposed level.

You can have plants in your yard, as long as it's all kept in an orderly file. What's that saying, that a weed is just a plant that never learned to grow in an orderly row? Grass is a weed, and it's weird that people (mostly men, come on lets be honest) have some sick obsession with their lawns. I'm sure there is some fucked up psychological thing going on there. Think of Hank Hill from the King of the Hill cartoon. So many homeowner men are like that. He's obsessed with his lawn. It's like it's some reflection of himself, but it's not good. It says, I am orderly and neat and I like to have fun within prescribed limits and I really really care about what you think about me. And there is that whole domination over nature thing going on there.

I'll never forget our old psycho neighbor that used to plant lovely flowers every year just so he could rip them out in a blind rage later on. Every year. That man belonged in prison. Psycho killer. I still believe he had bodies buried under his garden. I honestly do.

I was so relieved to be able to finish the lawn, and it was really nice to work on fixing the mower with my husband. It's really sad that is one of the few things we have done together aside from mindlessly watching old TV and Horror movies since we got here. He's a real wiz at electrical things, so he was able to get the mower working. I knew he probably could, if he just took a few minutes to focus on it. I don't usually ask him for anything anymore, but I asked if he would take a look at the mower and together we were able to get it working again.

His studio still sits in our basement mostly in boxes. I haven't had the energy to try to help him. It's up to me to say, "Lets get things set up" and he always acts like I am being unreasonable or just plain mean. I don't know what's wrong with me. I definitely just let him work through his issues on his own timeline. I have all my life. There are just a few instances where I have lost my patience and forced an issue. Maybe I need to be aggressive. I don't know.

I do think that you can't force healing. Most things have their own time line and trajectory and you have to let things play out in the way they are supposed to play out. Maybe that's fatalistic. Maybe that's delusional or avoidant. Maybe I am all those things.

I don't have the energy to be his fucking therapist. I'm still here, I'm still trying to make things work on all the levels. Right now I have to focus on myself and getting myself over the shit and moving myself forward. I hope someday he will decide to join me.

Right now, it's the best I can do. I say it all the time. "I'm doing the best I can." I don't know who I am apologizing to. Myself, maybe. That I'm not doing better, that I am not in a better place, that I'm not further along in my life.

Last night my mind was racing thinking back over all the intense moments when I went left when I should have gone right or when I should have gotten off the path altogether and took to the trees instead like a howler monkey. I don't know why I do that to myself.

3:11 PM - Sunday, May. 15, 2022

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