One of those days....

I had one of those days yesterday..... it was full of work and sweet smells of rain and spring, and nostalgia.

It, I think, was these same smells of spring that drove me to start taking zoloft in spring of 2006. Something so poingnant about the smell of rain and dirt.

I remember being in my red Santa Clara Child size xxxl (anything to save a buck) at the beach.... sliding down the sand dunes. Breeze blowing through my hair-- feeling so pleased and pleasant and infinitely dissastisfied. Not with the present.. but with the change. The absence.

Yesterday,
I used the bobcat to shovel out the lean-to to the barn. 5 months of crap all scooped up... then I got out and shoveled the sides that I couldn't reach by hand.
We don't call 911

I cleaned out the center of my lilac bush (another smell that could drive you to drink). I burnt a pile of leaves that I had raked. There's a robin out side my window. She's in the bush I just cut... looking for her nest probably. Now there are two.


Cleaned out the chicken coop.

Planted seeds, bulbs, and weeded grass out of the daffodiles.

Made dinner, had florise over.

Cleaned out the shed and put out my lawn furniture.

There is something that feels kind of good about doing stuff for myself. Don't get me wrong, I love Matt helping me do stuff. But a sense of my own independence gets flexed. And, I kind of enjoy working on stuff. I don't neccessarily want to get it done and quit. I actually enjoy sorting, throwing, sitting on the floor in the barn. Something nice about doing it at my own pace and feeling like I am useful. It's like my trim. I know the stuff I did doesn't look great- but I love it that I did it.

My sholders and arms kill.