Salvation Amy

The Cherry Tree, she is starting to come down. I am trying to come up with fun uses for the wood. My front yard will be transformed!

Mwhahahahahahha

I’ve been listening to Man of La Mancha a lot lately in the car. Which means the kids have also been listening to Man of La Mancha a lot lately in the car. Charlie tends to get a couple of songs in his head that he loves, as with any cd, and eventually gets to the point where he just calls them out by number. “Let’s listen to 14.” “Now let’s hear 7.” Like that. His tastes follow a pretty wide range. He loves Knight of the Woeful Countenance, I think for it’s ceremoniousness, and sings and speaks along with it. He also likes the funnier songs, Sancho Panza plucked naked as a scalded chicken, the little barber going his merry way…

Then he likes the really serious stuff, The Impossible Dream, the battle with the knight of the mirrors, and quite inexplicably, the scene at the end where Don Quixote is coaxed out of sanity only to die.

I asked him a couple of nights ago when his requests were turning toward the serious, why he liked the Impossible Dream so much. He said “I can’t tell you, but I can explain what I think it’s about.” When I agreed he started a little, but then said “I’m going to have to think about it.”

So last night we were driving and I asked him if he could tell me now what he thinks it’s about. Here is what he said…

“Well, I think it means that he thinks that you can do anything. Because you decide what you’re not strong enough for.”

“Like fly?”

“No. Not like that. Like, do you know the part where he says ‘To try when your arms are too weary?’”

“Yes.”

“Like that. Like you don’t really have limits unless you believe that you do. And if you believe you have limits, you can’t really do anything. Like this. Do you still believe you are cursed, that fishing curse, where every fishing trip you go on noone catches any fish?”

“Yes.”

“Okay. Well, you never catch any fish because you believe you have a limit. If you would believe that you are a good fisherman, you would catch a ton of fish.”

“Would I catch my limit?”

Eye rolling ensues. Then silence.

And in a while…

“You know that Doctor?”

“Yeah”

“Why does he want to cure Don Quixote so much?”

“I don’t know. Maybe because he’s marrying his niece, and doesn’t want to be related to someone crazy. Maybe because he thinks that insanity has to be cured if you can cure it. I don’t know. He just does.”

More silence.

“Well, I think that if you try to change someone’s life, then you are playing God. Then you are a jackass… Well, I’m not saying God’s a jackass…”

Then we drove for a little longer, and…

“Hey mom”

“Yeah?”

“Let’s listen to it now.”

“Can’t. Caroline took it to school. I think she maybe left it there. I don’t know. But I don’t have it here.”

barely audible… “I hate her.”

“Don’t you think Don Quixote would think that hating your sister was kind of a limit?”

“Yeah, probably. But he was insane.”

Breaking up is in the air. Margaret just broke up with her transitional person, and over at Gwenworld (one of my favorite sites out there… Check for new updates obsessively) some great posts have come about from Gwen’s recent breakup, and her analysis of her reactions thereto.

Marg sent me a playlist from her breakup tape, and I’ve been thinking about the music I listened to obsessively (there’s a theme developing here) when I got divorced. The whole time I was married I stopped singing. That was one of the first things I realized when my ex-husband & I separated. Almost as soon as he was gone, I noticed that I was singing all the time, and that I hadn’t sung in years.

Anyway - All the breaking up I’ve noticed lately has me thinking about that time, ten years ago. How I felt like it was over for me. How I thought I’d never be the same. How I missed having a husband who, really, I hadn’t been able to stand for a very long time, but how I thought noone would ever want to be with me again, and how, having a lousy husband was better than being alone. (It wasn’t). I listened to music constantly in the days months and years following my divorce, and there was a progression that the music followed that loosely followed the five stages of grief, I suppose…. Anyway, here is my Elizabeth Kubler-Ross inspired break up tape, with annotations…

Denial This, for me, in the breakup of my marriage, and in all other breakups, was the stage where my denial was more about the state of the relationship before the breakup than about, "This isn’t really the end."

1. Paul Simon - Gumboots - Ah, perhaps I could love you enough for the both of us until you come to your senses. Plus "Breakdowns come and breakdowns go, what’re you going to do about it that’s what I’d like to know…."

2. Don Henley - The Heart of the Matter In retrospect, love had nothing to do with it. And plus… Forgiveness? My ass.

3. Tracy Chapman - Promise Again, in retrospect? Totally an unhealthy sentiment. I’m going to wait for you, no matter what, even though I knew, AT THE TIME what a completely unhealthy relationship it was? Okay… Well, I meant it at the time because it didn’t occur to me that things could be better. They can. I’m totally welching on any promises made while completely delusional.

Anger In the case of breakups, second to acceptance, anger is TOTALLY my favorite stage. First of all, all the angry songs make me laugh more than the denial songs make me cry. And a good anger jag? Way better than a crying jag any day. Way more cathartic, and way, way, waaaaaaay more fun. Plus, in anger, it’s all someone else’s problem. (Plus, I found so many anger songs that were so completely about my ex-husband that they must have been written by his ex-girlfriends, so it had a whole sisterhood feel to it.)

4. Alanis Morissette - You Oughta Know Okay, and basically, the whole Jagged Little Pill Album is the perfect and I mean PERFECT breakup album. Okay, maybe bits of it are for that phase when you’re totally over it and on to someone new. But most of it, for me, has that really introspective feel when you’re examining your whole life and trying to figure out why you are completely unlovable and finally you just decide to get on with your life. It holds very little appeal for me now. But at the time… which was about maybe 6 months to a year after my divorce, it was in heavy rotation.

5. Ani Difranco - Used to You - On the list because, really? It is just my ex-husband to a T. Down to the incessant talking. Also explains what the appeal was for me. And why I stayed so long.

6. Ani Difranco - Out of Range - Moving from specific anger to generalized anger at men and society…. There’s a progression. There’s also a theme. A lot of my anger songs were Ani songs.

7. Ani Difranco - Blood in the Boardroom This is really, again, generalized anger/woman power stuff, and doesn’t have a lot to do with breaking up, but DOES have a lot to do with feminine power and sticking it to the man. And who doesn’t enjoy sticking it to the man once in a while.

Bargaining

Eh, I don’t really get this phase. Maybe someone else can explain it to me. Maybe that’s when you think you’ve moved completely on, and you haven’t, and you think every stupid date you have is the one, even though, again, in retrospect, they so totally aren’t.

I don’t really have a song for this phase. Insert your sappy love song of brand new love of choice here.

Depression

You know, this whole metaphor isn’t holding up that well. I know I went through a period of profound loneliness for a while, and thought I’d never be with anyone else again. But right around that time I found Dar Williams, and there was a mourning, albeit brief, of the loss of the illusion of what I thought I’d had

8. Dar Williams - The Great Unknown Love love love the connection between the breakdown of the nuclear family and the nuclear age. I love the futility of the image of trying to put the atom back together. This song brought me to a real place of letting go of the illusions for good.

Acceptance

Which for me was a looking back and noticing how lucky I’d been. How every miserable step of the way I’d had incredible blessings around me that I hadn’t even noticed.

9. Dar Williams The Blessings which reminded me of endless hours singing with Ananaia and hashing out the small details of where we would go next and where we were and trying to see it clearly while we were both still too much in the middle of the heartbreak.

10. more Dar Williams As Cool As I Am And the place where you feel strong. And cool. And you’re not going to fall for the games or the traps anymore.

11. Dar Williams This is Not the House that Pain Built Again, man, full of images that just resonate for me. Probably my favorite line, as one who tends toward extreme self protection and being the "keeper of the information" is "I will see you first, is that alright?" Because, really, before you ever see me? I will completely and utterly see you. Inside and out.

12. Dar Williams (yeah, yeah, I know. What can I say. It shook the dust off of me) You’re Aging Well For me, and for Margaret, and Ananaia and Carla and Mom and Kat and Gwen and Lisa (both of whom I only read, but whose honesty and willingness to plumb the depths enrich me all the same), and all all all the women in every time and every place who are no longer who they were, but are not yet who they will be.

How in the heck did I get on the spam list for these people?

Perhaps it is my fervent belief that George Bush is the antichrist.

Charlie and I made a solar oven today out of a million cardboard boxes, old newspaper, tin foil, plastic wrap and duct tape.

It pre-heated like a charm. Charlie - with a little prodding from his mother decided that a recipe called "Brownie Pudding" from here would not steer us wrong. We had all the ingredients on hand. The sun is cooperating. And we will be eating some brownie pudding when dessert time rolls around.

Hooray for the free stuff. Hooray for the Sun. And soon I’ll hook up my software so I can upload nifty pictures of our delicious brownie pudding, cooked by God.

And also my wicked decent free compost bin. What a delightful world.

Ha Haaaaaaaa!

I got the wickedest compost bin today for nothing, zilch, zip, nada! Here’s What You Do:

1. Drag your whining nine year old from in front of the television.

2. Go to the local overpriced garden store looking for information on how to better aerate and drain and check the pH of your soil.

3. Tell whining nine year old that YES, you have to get out of the car and come with me, because it’s a really hot day, and if you don’t, maybe you’ll die or even get kidnapped.

4. Look around overpriced garden store and notice they don’t have much that you really want.

5. Ask owner of overpriced garden store how much for packing pallettes.

6. Note his glee as he says you may have them, they can’t get rid of them fast enough.

7. Enlist now co-operative nine year old in laying down the back seats of the car.

8. Load 2 pallettes in van.

9. Take home.

10. Unload.

11. Go out again to mega store and get a couple of cultivators and a pair of gardening gloves for the nine year old person who is now the MOST ENTHUSIASTIC GARDENER EVER BECAUSE THOSE CULTIVATORS ARE GOING TO MAKE HIS HANDS KIND OF LOOK LIKE HOOKS AND HE WILL BE THE KING OF WEEDING WITH ONE IN EACH HAND!!! Also look at overpriced pH testing machine and settle instead on a couple of little test tubes where you drop in soil, add chemical and water, and Walla - pH reading.

12. Notice that gasoline has gotten really fucking expensive.

13. On way home, stop at over priced garden shop and take more pallettes. Get five dollar microbes so you can compost hedge trimmings. And also so you don’t have to feel too guilty about swooping in twice in one day and taking what’s free without buying anything. And also hoping that when you get ready to build cold frames, the guy will let you have more of the palettes.

14. Go home.

15. Unload and set up four pallettes in a cube shape, all the while answering calls of “HEY MOM” from nine year old who has nothing better to do than test the soil’s pH and also weed pretending to be Wolverine from X_men.

16. Mention to nine year old that you are carrying something pretty heavy, and it might be easier for him to bring his teeny weeny test tube to you than for you to drop heavy pallettes on your toes to come and see what he’s doing.

17. Wait for husband to come home.

18. Also, marry someone whose job entails carrying a bunch of wire with him wherever he goes.

19. Tell him you need some wire.

20. Bind pallettes together with wire at the top and bottom. Throw in 4-6 inches of yard and hedge trimmings, also maybe add topsoil if you have some. Sprinkle with microbes, then water, do another layer, and Walla. In about three months, delicious compost for your garden.

21. Remember you have a rabbit. Wonder whether rabbit shit will make good composting material. Remember that rabbits are herbivores in discussion with husband, and guess that it will. Look up rabbit shit as composting material on internet, find out YAY! Good for composting.

Another thing we got free today was a rhythm instrument made by Charlie, like this:

1. Cut off bottoms of 2 small plastic soda bottles.

2. Put in dried black beans

3, Squish together.

4. Shake like a madman.

We had a lot of cheap fun today.

We had to buy the cultivators and the pH tester and gloves and microbes. Altogether, I think it cost 10 bucks.

P.S. I know that it’s actually spelled Voila. But when Miss Sixteen Year Old Caroline was really little, she would say Walla and I just think it’s cute.

Last night it was time to thin the lettuce. And the beets. And the turnips and radishes.

I took all the thinnings and made little tiny salads. They were so fresh that we had to pick little bits of dirt out of them as we ate them. Heh heh.

I’m going to need to do some redesign around here soon. I need to start a really boring garden log so I can keep track of what I do each day. Because I’m forgetting where I planted stuff, and how tall it needs to be when you thin it, and all sorts of other stuff.

I’ve got big plans for next year. We’re ripping out the back yard in the fall, and building a big vegetable garden.

I’m hankering to try growing things from seed. I am especially hankering to try a few (very few, because I have very little room) seed potatoes.

Toward that end, I’m looking at building some cold frames so that I can extend my growing into the fall and start earlier in the year.

And I am currently coveting cute little mini-dwarf apple trees grown in cordons up against the garage. Because what is the use of growing food if you can’t make pie out of it? Does anyone know this about the cordons? Is it just a matter of the size of the root ball, and then you prune them, or do you have to get a particular variety to get them to grow like that?

Shame on you, Dennis Hastert. Just, shame on you. Of all the… What the…. Ack. Did you hear about this? Hastert is basically calling John McCain’s* support of U.S. troops into question and his Republicanism and I guess, by extension, his patriotism because McCain isn’t supporting Republican tax cuts? The HELL?????

And really. Are these people just ridiculously ballsy, or incredibly stupid?

And cheers to John McCain for not taking the bait and putting Hastert in his place. For having the confidence and conviction to let his record speak for itself.

Hastert’s quote is just so off the wall and offensive. He suggests that maybe Senator McCain needs some schooling in sacrifice. Come ON.

There is just not enough “shut up” in this great and infinite universe for this man.

*Full Disclosure - John McCain serves as Mr. July in my imaginary Senatorial Beefcake Calendar.

Margaret and I were chatting about the Cicada invasion. I am very disappointed that we don’t have more of them. I thought they were fairly harmless, but she was talking about them like they were the actual spawn of satan. Well, maybe not Satan, because she’s Jewish, and I don’t know what the Jewish equivalent of Satan is, because, well, I don’t know that there are any people on earth more fixated on the concept of evil than Christians. So, I guess, really Margs’ version of Satan actually is a cicada invasion, because, really, you should hear her. She’s being quite a baby about it.

Then I found this, and I have come to realize that I was wrong and she was right, and they are actually much more frightening than I gave them credit for.

So, Margs, I must amend our earlier conversation and say "Please be careful and don’t let the cicadas kill you."

Yup. Once again, you think I am being nice. But no. Just teasing you. Again. Some More.

I still am enjoying going out in the morning and checking on how things are growing. My lettuce is starting to look like lettuce, and my small plot is busting with root vegetables… My peas are getting big enough to thin. Plans are underway to rip up the tiny back yard and make a permanent vegetable garden in a little space. The front will be mostly a flower garden and I have a really great idea for a fence that I shan’t discuss right now. But Scott and I are wrestling over the possibility of a lilac hedge or a blueberry blackberry raspberry hedge around the front yard. He goes for fragrant. I say delicious. I will be picking and purchasing the plants. Heh Heh.

But anyway - I went out this morning to the vegetable patch and the whole back yard was full of birds. Robins and Starlings I think (Are Starlings kind of blackish brownish mottled kinds of bird?) All the starlings and most of the robins flew away, but two bold robins who had been in the strawberries (which aren’t doing a whole lot yet) sat on the fence looking at me and cocking their heads, as I stood there saying "well, hello guys. It’s very nice to see you and I’m happy that you’re here, but really, you know that the strawberries aren’t for you, right? I mean, you can check them out all you want, but I’d prefer if you just kind of left them alone, okay? And I won’t eat the worms"

That’s about as far as we got. Then they flew over the fence to my neighbor’s house because SHE has a little birdie swimming pool in her yard, and the birds were all, "Okay now that we’ve had breakfast, let’s go to the gym" and I turned around to see my across the street neighbor laughing at me.

We’ll see who’s laughing when you’re looking for delicious blueberries, dude!