This cloudy, rainy, cool week has me thinking it's mid-September. I spent 15 minutes in my back yard, dead-heading the geraniums, wondering why I bothered this year. Honestly, I only go into the yard to weed it. We have not had a meal at the outside table. And I sat on the lounge chair once (ONCE) in 4 months.
Then, peer pressure had me on the street, in the dark, using a hand-held sharp hoe-type tool, pulling out the grass and weeds that have been growing profusely in the crack between the gutter and the road. All the rest of the neighbours have cleaned their cracks out. Mine was the only one that had a strip of vibrant, healthy green vegetation growing in the narrow strip of accumulated dirt in front of the house. And I have a wide lot. So my strip is big. I have a big crack.
(Everyone else used pressure washers. In the daylight. I tinkered out there, in my long skirt and diamond-like studded sleeveless top. At night.)
I ache from all the bending over and pulling.
Forget the idea of moving into a condo. I should head straight for a retirement community.
It's almost over.
I've woken up every morning since mid-May worrying about Math 10. One of us has too. I predicted to him that if he failed it again (during the school year) - I'd be a grouchy person to live with this summer, as it would fall on me to make sure the summer- school thing happened. And so it came to pass, that yes, indeed, he would have to take Math 10 in July and August. And as predicted, I've handled the extra responsibilty with my usual lack of grace.
Every single day for the past 5 weeks, I start the day with a stomach ache. And 18 hours after that, when I fall into bed again for the night, Math 10 is one of the four things that I think about before falling asleep.
It has not gone well.
And he's OK with the possibility of repeating it again.
He is writing his final unit test on Friday morning at 9:30. Then on Tuesday Aug 14, he'll be tackling the provincial at noon.
If you're the praying type - please join me in praying that my boy will nail these exams and put Math 10 behind him.
What do you do to get over that feeling that you're never going to get caught up? Honestly, everywhere I look in my life, I feel like I'm falling short. I may get one corner of one area all spicked and spanned but the rest is in chaos. Seeing I've mentioned my yard already, I'll return to that as an example. The window boxes are watered, fertilized, dead-headed and are as lovely-as-can-be-expected considering the flowers were bought from Home Depot on sale on the Canada Day weekend.
And 3/4 of my street crack is void of vegetation. But the east side of the house? I don't think I've been on that side yard at all this year (with the exception of this evening when I snapped a photo of the garden gate. It's posted on Right Coast Left Coast). The three rose bushes are taller than the house. Everything is 6 - 8 feet high. Even the weeds. Same with the farthest back corner. And the other corner, behind the green house - just a mass of weeds. The west side? That Jasmine vine looks like it came from Jurassic Park.
Everywhere I look outside I see work.
And that makes me sad.
Because it's not just outside.
It's inside too.
In my house.
My whole life needs an overhaul.
This is what I'm taking to Mexico. All this baggage. All this emotional stuff about not being on top of things. All these feelings of being old and achy. And alot of crap about being afraid of the future.
And then, the cream-cheese icing on top of the double fudge chocolate cake is the guilt.
Why am I committed to reading books 1 through 7 of the Harry Potter series, but not as committed to reading the Matthew to Romans in the Bible?
Why am I spending money I don't have to build a house in Mexico for a homeless family when I don't even give the homeless guy hanging around the Esso station in my neighbourhood ten bucks for a meal?
Back in May, May 25th to be exact, I had a 'moment' at work when I knew this summer was not going to one of giggles and grasshoppers.
Remember that questionaire thingy I did last month? The "Clean Sweep" one? I can't hardly recall any of the questions except the one that asked "Do you laugh out loud every day?" I said I didn't. It was suggested that probably I did. So I've made a point of keeping track of the number of times I laugh. On average - twice a week. And it's not a belly laugh.
I cry way more.
Like, every single day.
No wonder my eyes have such deep wrinkles.
I'm getting kinda tired of tears.
Three things I'm thankful for:
1. The ten people who are praying for me and my boys regarding our Mexico adventure. Thanks for your encouragement and prayers. I think God is working on me already.
2. The reassurance I have that God will pick up the slack in those important areas where I am lacking.
3. That part of my family and I will be seeing The Taming of the Shrew at Bard on the Beach on Sunday night. I KNOW I will laugh. And if I cry, they will be those sappy joy tears...