Tuesday, September 13, 2011


Last night I had a can of Spaghettios for dinner.  I know most people over the age of 5 years old would probably say that Spaghettios are pretty gross, but to me, they are comfort food.  When I was little, my Grandma Pinky always made me a bowl of Spaghettios when I stayed at her house for the day.  And she always made me little buttered bread fingers with the crusts cut off.  So to me, a can of processed tomato sauce with little pasta o's and buttered bread is a little slice of happiness.  And by 7 o'clock last night I barely had the energy to open up the can.  I had gotten home at 6:15 pm after a long and busy day at the library.  And in the 45 minutes since I got home, the puppy pooped in the house, bit my hand, and went swimming in Daisy's water bowl (in other words: flooded the dining room floor.)  In that same period of time, Daisy ran down the street to sniff another dog and then pulled me down the street on the leash and one of the lamb's heads got stuck in the fence.

By the time I had coaxed the frantic lamb's head back through the fence and found a can of Spaghettios in the cabinet, I was pretty overwhelmed.  All I could think about was how Joey still wouldn't be home from work for a couple hours and how utterly alone I felt on our little farm.  I felt trapped by our dogs and livestock and the housework and by my lack of friends out here and the fact that I just can't do it all by myself.  And then the puppy ate my buttered bread fingers.  And that was the straw that broke the camel's back.  I started bawling right there in the kitchen while the dog licked butter off his face and looked at me like I was crazy.  I took my bowl out of the microwave and my remaining bread fingers and sat down on the couch and cried over a bowl of Spaghettios.  And Daisy sat next to me, not for comfort, but just in case I wasn't going to finish my food and would like to share it with her.  Luckily, Joey came home about an hour later so I could share my dog woes with him.  He ate a can of vegetable soup out of the pot he heated it up in.  We were both exhausted.

This morning, Jip didn't bark until about 5 minutes before my alarm went off (unusual for him) so I was pretty refreshed when I woke up.  I remembered that Joey had asked me before he left for work if I could water the chickens and the sheep.  I let Jip out, fed him, let him out again, walked Daisy up the street, and then gave water to the chickens and the sheep and fed the bunny.  I even took clothes down from the line, and washed and hung up another basket of clothes.  And I paid the bills.  I felt pretty good about my productive morning.  The house didn't get any cleaner, and there are still dirty dishes in the sink (as usual), but all of our animals got fed and watered, the dogs got walked, I didn't get bitten or head-butted, and I actually ate a bowl of oatmeal and plucked a few stray eyebrows before getting out the door.

 I locked my keys in the house.  I guess you win some, you lose some.  I'll never be totally organized and put-together.  Some days I will go to work with muddy paw prints on my pants or forget my lunch on the table.  But I get to work on time (mostly) and work hard to pay my bills and support this crazy chaotic life I lead.  Tonight, we have a board meeting at the library and I know I will be exhausted again when I get home (after going out the farm where Joey works to pick up his house key.)  Maybe I'll mix it up and microwave a frozen soy chicken patty for dinner tonight.  At least my kitchen smells like I actually cooked something because I found Jip chewing on a whole head of garlic this morning.  

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