Wednesday, August 4, 2010

Ever feel this way?

I went out to feed Screech Kitty the other morning and was puzzled by why he was so intent on his cat food bucket.  Yes, he always looks forward to being fed, but this was a bit much, even for him. 
I wondered why the plastic bucket held such fascination for him.
Oh, that's why!

 Talk about fresh cat food!  Somehow Screech's container must have gotten tipped over and the lid was open just enough for Mighty Mouse here to squeeze in at some point to help himself.  I'm not a fan of rodents at all, but for some reason, this poor mouse with the big, black eyes just looked so pitiful; racing around and around in the bucket, frantically searching for an exit.  Finally he sat still and just quivered, realizing his fate was sealed-- this was the end.

But I couldn't do it.  I could sympathize.  I've been racing around here in circles too, and not getting anywhere either and time is running out.  I've been reduced to a quivering pile, too.
 
So, what did I do with the captive? 

I let him go. 

And no, not so the cat could catch him either, not that there's much chance of it, since Screech isn't particularly interested in mice. 

I just felt so sorry for the varmint for some reason.  Maybe it's menopause.  Can I blame it on that?  Why not, what else is it good for?  Maybe it's the close call with the river thing the other day, maybe it's because I realize time is slipping away faster than ever, maybe it's because of loved ones lost along the way, I don't know. 
 
 I am so 'emo' at times (gotta love today's kids lingo even though the slang for emotional is probably out of vogue already, but it sure sums me up). 'Emo Karen'....almost as catchy as 'Tickle Me Elmo'...well, ok, not quite. 

We were on another garden tour yesterday with our garden group.   Two of the ladies who were our hosts had lost their husbands in the last several years.  These are big gardens, very close in size to our own disaster here, and both of the ladies were still carrying on with the gardens they started with their spouses.  They are both thinking of downsizing and have taken some steps in that direction, though one was apologetic about her perceived lack of progress.  Oh, if I had their courage.  I applauded the fact they could take any steps in any direction for without Carl, oh.......without Carl.....what would I do? I don't want to know.  



I had a talk with Karen, one of the garden tour hosts, whose late husband was very much like Carl when it came to 'collecting' things.  She also has two adult sons who at times were just as frustrated with their Dad's compulsion to keep junk as our two are.   Now that some time has passed and she feels up to it,  she has been attempting to get rid of some of the stuff, but was surprised by her son's reactions.. now that it's possible to get rid of it all, they feel reluctant to part with any of it.  Oh, I know....it's the letting go, so many mixed-up emotions.  
 
If Carl were gone and I could deal with his junk without interference, I don't know what reactions I would have either.   But I suspect I would be sitting in a pile of used left-handed leather gloves marked 'Steve' and 'Mike' and 'John' and bawling my eyes out because I couldn't get rid of them. (Side note here: the guys at Carl's work are provided with gloves, and for the most part they are all right-handed, and sometimes the left handed gloves aren't too badly worn out--- so when his coworkers throw a pair away, he brings the left handed ones home so we can use them for stonework, sigh (I know, what is wrong with me?!)  
 
I've been treated for depression for years, but I don't think it's just depression driving these emotions, I think it's just who I am.  I feel too much, always have.  Gardening is my therapy, my exercise and my nightmare at times, all rolled into one.  I have a film crew for Wisconsin Public Television coming here in exactly one week to do a little five minute interview with me and look over the gardens....and I have WAY more to do than will ever get done (Including not losing the 100 pounds I wanted to!!!)  so why am I sitting here writing about it instead of doing it?  Because writing is therapy to me, too. 

 
Mom always says don't borrow trouble, it will come soon enough.  She's right.  As always.   What would I do without her?  (Oh, no, don't go there, Tear Alert!) 

Sniff, sniff, pass the tissues!   

Emo Karen, signing off.

 


7 comments:

Alison said...

Menopause sucks! I've been through it and come out the other side, and I can say it is survivable. But I sooooo know those emo tendencies, having been prone to depression myself for years. You're not the only one who wonders what a horror life would be without your husband/life partner.

Hope you can make a dent in what you need to get done for the interview. It sounds exciting!

Love your mom's saying. All my mom ever says is "You can't do that, you're not good enough."

FlowerLady said...

Dear Karen ~ I hear you about being emo. It's partly menopause or post-meno as I am. The thought of losing DH is awful. We're not getting any younger, have been married 41 years next month, and dated for 3 years before marriage. We do look forward to the next life in eternity together with God, the Creator of all Life and the Author and Finisher of our Faith. It still doesn't mean it wouldn't be hell on earth without the other one though.

Anyway, to get onto a lighter note, your gardens are fantastic. Full of love, and joy and healing. I sent DH the link to your post about being married to McGyver (sp?) My DH collects 'junk' too, and he really was impressed with your DH's work on the gazebo. Truly a wonderful work of art and genius.

Our gardens are great therapy but like you said they can be our nightmare too at times. Try not to stress too much about getting the gardens ready for the TV interview, they are already perfect to me, and I'm sure will be to everyone else also.

Hugs ~ from one emo to another FlowerLady

Gatsbys Gardens said...

Karen, I so enjoy your stories and your garden. That is a trip about the mouse! I told you collectors need to begin reaping the benefits of collecting, at least that's what my husband tells me when he looks at all of my purchases.

Eileen

Ginny said...

Yes, I feel this way! "Weepy" is what I call it. I would have let that mouse go, too. I was sad yesterday to find that a lizard had crawled in my watering can and drowned. But tears and joy are from the same well.
Gardening is my therapy too but I can't imagine how I'd feel if a TV crew was coming over - well, I know a TV crew will never come to my garden, but still I can imagine the stress.
But these pictures of your garden are so beautiful - I'm sure it's even more fabulous in person.

Littlebloomer said...

Good luck Karen - enjoy the opportunity to have a TV crew come by - your garden pictures are lovely and that's what the crew will focus on. I think that gardeners are sensitive, nuturing people. I'm always fussing about the rabbits (the best rabbit is a dead rabbit) and when I needed to put a sick bunny out of his misery, I was all tears. I finally figured out how to give myself a name for my comment - just can't figure out how to get a picture. I love your bog - I often visit in the early morning hours when I can't sleep. It is so relaxing that I can return to bed and sleep then till morning. Thank you

Karen said...

Allison, thank goodness menopause is survivable; I am glad to hear from a survivor! Thank you so much, there are times I think I've gone around the bend!

Flowerlady, so you are married to a MacGyver, too? Congratulations on 41 years, wow, what a milestone. It's such a small world, isn't it? Thank you for the hug, too.

Eileen, you are right, we should be trying to turn a profit with all this junk, we certainly have enough raw materials lying around!

Ginny, 'Tears and joy are from the same well'...what a beautiful saying! As far as the TV crew goes, well, you never know.....20 years ago I would have said the same thing. (But I will stress about all of this and that and maybe they won't air it in the end anyway!)

Littlebloomer, I'm very glad to meet you, and I'm also glad my blog helps you rest at night. I am a nightowl too,with insomnia troubles (and aches and pains) and when I can't sleep, I write.

Thank you all for your kindness! And, it obvious, as Littlebloomer said, "Gardeners are sensitive, nurturing people."

Beth said...

Karen, I love how you've landscaped with rock. Fabulous! Love your kindness too with the little mouse. That was the right thing to do. Karen, I'm going to go back to when you first began blogging and start there to read the background of your property. Exciting stuff! What a place you have!
Beth