Just so you know...

...I have NO clue what to make for supper.

That is all for today.

Sweet Escape

Thanks, honey. And sorry, again, for being a royal asstard this morning. Ain't I a stinkah? Love you.

Unsettled

That's the best word for today. Jackson's party is coming up,and for some reason I have neither the time, money, nor motivation to get anything done, planned, or figured out for it. I am burned out on big kids' parties that the guests of honor will not even remember. Why didn't I wait until they got bigger? All of you rolling your eyes and saying "DUH, Cathy!" can just shut it. I'm not on the mood, frankly. The fact is, I have to do this party, Jackson deserves this party as much as Samantha deserved a big 3-year-old party, and I'm not screwing him out of it just because I have a cob up my ass about doing the work. But it all makes me feel unsettled.

Greg is busiest this time of year, and while it's nice to have that level of financial means coming in, it means more time for me on my own with the kids, and less time for him and the kids (which seems to lower his thresh hold for their antics, for some reason, rather than raising it), and certainly less time for us. It also leaves me feeling disjointed from our marriage, and while that is not particularly dangerous because I believe in the longevity of our marriage, it makes for a weird vibe between us that I can't quite put my finger on. Or maybe he's just acting strangely and I'm not really ready to be real about that yet. (Greg...thoughts?) And it makes me feel unsettled.

I did some good meditation last night, (see previous blog), and while I feel relaxed as I'm doing it, I find that the morning after I am, possibly, more irritated than usual. Maybe stirring up stuff, yeah? Maybe not satisfied with where I'm getting in my meditation and that bugs me? Whatever the reason, it leaves me, you guessed it - unsettled.

Oh, and I have PMS. Me with PMS is "unsettled" personified. No joke. Unsettled.

Not even sure what the point is. Just that I'm, well...unsettled. I'm feeling unsettled about that. Vicious cycles much? Oy. I need to get a shower, and get my poop in a group around here. Not that it'll help, but it needs to be done.

I'm No Farm Girl

I swear to god. My good friend Rayann lovingly called me that on FB recently, and if you look at my blog as of late, you'll swear she's right! Tomatoes, sweet corn picked out of a field, botany everywhere, garden pics - it's a really green thumb environment going on here this summer at FMFO.

But there's way more going on over here than just agriculture. I am Shredding - painfully, and with great effort and not great consistency, but Shredding all the same. Jillian Michaels is kicking my ass on a hopefully-soon-to-be regular basis. And I hope to see the results. Google "Jillian Michaels' 30-day Shred". The DVD's cheap, pick one up. Or watch it first on youtube. Seriously old-school workout here, folks - circuit training with strength, cardio and abs. I hope to make a real part of my regular life.

I am meditating. Nobody even knows that yet, you heard it here first. And I'm just starting, to be clear - it's not like I've been closet meditating for months now. And frankly, I still rather suck at it. It's kind of like trying not to giggle in church, or trying to be serious in the principal's office when "Relax...don't do it...when you wanna cum..." is playing on the radio in the background. Or trying to keep focused on a training segment that you know you'll need later in your job, but just can't seem to stay plugged in to. Yeah, it's like that. I know I feel better from the breathing techniques, and I am still searching for the best meditation guide (some sound like they are trying to put me to sleep, some DO put me to sleep, and some of them just plain sound like douche bags), but there are plenty to choose from online, so the search and the work is in progress, for sure. And I hope to be better for it before I'm an expert.

I am trying to get school options figured out. Metro is apparently not interested in taking on new students because I can't even get anyone there to call me. And who even knows what the hell I want to study anyway? Certainly not me. My heart draws me to psychology, but I'm not sure I have it in me to hear of heartache and pain all day, every day, and I'm not sure I will deal with the inevitable failures very well, either. Maybe pet therapy. I mean, really, only people with money even really buy into that stuff anyway, right? So the pay should be fairly nice. And let's face it, if I screw up, and Spot offs himself, or still chews up the furniture, or can't give up beggin strips and has to go to the puppy fat farm, it's a dog, dude. A DOG. How bad can I feel about not being able to tighten the bolts on a dog brain? Hmm?

Oookay, Cathy's a little tired now. Anyway...

So, school's a possibility. That's really the long and the short of that.

What I'd really love to do is get a fucking book written and published (I know, me and 125 million other talented writers, yes?). OR, and I know I've mentioned this, I'd love to dust off my children's book that's been in a file for ?? years now, and get someone to look at that. I feel less confident about it all the time, and I'm not even sure why. It's a perfectly nice story, with a perfectly sweet character, and I think it feels iffy because I know there are dozens and dozens of perfectly nice manuscripts just like mine that go in the trash at publishers daily.

More later. My batter on my laptop is dying. Yes, I have a laptop now. A brand spanking new one. I know, right? SO not a farm girl.

One Hundred Greenies

That's the estimate. It's a rough estimate, I didn't count every single one. I don't think I could, the plants are so huge I'm not sure how I'll get in to pick them.

Not that I think that's really a genuine concern right now. They're never going to turn. Ever. E.V.E.R. They're just going to remain the biggest tomato plants in history, with the most beautiful big round lovely fruits ever, that will never, ever, ever turn red. Ever.

I had one. One that was rather small, but had a lovely red tinge, and soon looked ready to pick. So I finally picked it.

And stuck my fingers through the hidden, ROTTEN other side.

Nice.

Seriously, some horticulturalist needs to come study these plants. They are lovely. They have had their suckers removed. They should have been pruned more than they were, but frankly that has not affected production. I KNOW there's 100 tomatoes set on. Most of them are softball sized, and beautiful, beautiful fruits.

They're just green as the grass in June, that's all.

Don't believe me? Well, allow me to show you.




I have more. I can post them.

I WANT MY OWN TOMATOES OFF MY OWN VINES GODDAMMIT!!!!!!

Ok, tantrum over. I'm going to go check now, convinced that I'll see nothing different today than I saw yesterday. If by some miracle of God I happen to notice a change in the dozens and dozens of green spheres hanging out in my back yard, I'll letcha know.

But don't wait around for it.

UPDATE (2o minutes later):

Two. There are two that are beginning to turn. Oh, and I did a more specific count of one plant. I counted no less than 55 - on one plant. I have four. I am now hearing that old addage in my head "Be careful what you wish for...", because I lack the answer to the question "What in hell am I going to do with over 200 tomatoes?!?"

I hope to find out. But again, not banking on it.