This weekend I
- wrote an entire entertaining post about what I did over the weekend and and accidentally deleted it.
- was sad about the above.
Look. I survived mother’s day.
It was pretty great, in fact. Several friends sent nice messages, which was nice. Nice and nice. I had early coffee and visiting with a friend who’d come up from North Carolina. Then a nice brunch with my folks, which boasted the loan of my dad’s truck so I could haul brush away from my house. Plus a nap in the hammock and a short visit with D and then dinner with a friend. And I finally got around to delivering some manicotti to my neighbor who’s going in for surgery this week. Generosity for the win, y’all.
Happy middle of May to you.
Y’all, I am making yogurt from goat milk. I am so excited by the goat milk. The goat in question is so cute. So cute. That’s her on the left, having her chin scratched. She lives in paradise, which is only a short bus ride away from me.
Also, my cup overfloweth with cow’s milk, as I only finished about half of last week’s half gallon and this week’s is waiting for me to pick up. I’ve made a half-assed (lots of halves in this paragraph) version of cottage cheese where the milk just sits out on the counter overnight and then I salt it, but it tasted about like you’d expect for the amount of effort put in. So this time, I’ll try a recipe. My thermometer is one battery short – and there’s only one battery in the damn thing – so I will have to find a battery to fit it before I start. And some cheese cloth. I seem to be out.
Look! It’s a post without a list! You’re welcome.
Oh, look. It’s me. How’re tricks in these months since we last spoke? Well, since I last spoke and you (all 1 of you) last listened.
Things in Starrhill continue apace: roommates come and go and stay (some good, some less so); the cats sit by the fire or chase each other up trees, depending on the season; the chickens squawk and get neglected (benignly!) and still produce enough eggs for home and to share. Of note: my upstairs bathroom is redone, which improves my quality of life immensely, and I have not acquired any new pets in the past 10 months, which I think is something of a record, but I did just buy a hammock.
But let’s jump to the now, shall we? Because it is, well, here now, like the new agey bumper sticker says. Other, better bloggers abhor lists, but I, well, I love a list. Much like I seem to love the word well. Let’s make it numbered and call it Things I Did This Weekend.
- Went to the market, not for the first time, but for the first time with LB. There were strawberries from my market bf, who always cuts me a deal. Then we had coffee at my house and Bernice availed herself of LB’s lap.
- Took the bus to Woolen Mills to drop off some lard I made from some fat from Red Row Farm and got to sample some goat’s milk and goat’s milk yogurt as well as have coffee and garden time with Elsie. That’s two small farm links in one item, y’all.
- Continued the ongoing dance of dominance with the lawn. One day I will come out on top.
- Took a nap in the hammock.
- Made a fire, because – WTF? – it’s freezing.
- Was accepted, officially, into the Australian Cat Ladies (which is a voice for Values, BTW), even though I am not in Australia. I am so proud! It’s an honor, really.
Still to come!
Have a bonus cat picture:
Ok, and another one:
I got some new chickens. They are Kourtney, Kim, Klhoe, and Rob. Along with Kate, the last chicken standing, they are the Kardashian-Olsens. Kate doesn’t seem to like them very much. Or, at least she is very busy squawking at them. Not to busy to lay eggs, though, for which I am grateful. Chickens are sort of a pain, but buying eggs is bullshit.
Inspired by my recent visit to Indigo House, I put up some tomatoes. It was really a great deal I happened onto. See, the nice lady at my CSA has been too busy growing tomatoes to can any of her own, so she gave me about a million tomatoes and I did the canning and we will split the jars. Perfect, yes? Yes.
I used ye olde internetz and found these guys, whose canning deal looked do-able, and I dove right in. I have 8 pint jars of Juliets, which are like romas, and 8 quart jars of some other sort of tomato. It really wasn’t that hard, although I did have to reprocess a few jars whose seals were for shit. I am pretty proud. I am also hopeful that I don’t give my nice farmer family botulism. As a side note, I’ve discovered, given my n of 3 (me and those two nice guys in the above link), that gay people like to can tomatoes. Also, we like to drink beer and eat chinese food.
Summer is ending. Now, don’t think for a minute I had the summer off. The mortgage still has to be paid. So I did a little summer camp and it was fine. Only until noon, which is almost like not work. And only six weeks, so I could return to the classroom refreshed. Re. Freshed. Or something. Anyway, I went to school for a bit yesterday, to tidy a little for the parent meeting that was scheduled for the evening and I ended up hauling around a bunch of furniture. All new in September, kids! Well, it would be all new to them anyway, since they are so small. It’s not done yet by a long shot, but I think I’ve made for an easy work week for me and cho-girl.
And to round out this all about me post (really, are there any post that are not all about me?), I have my annual summer spider bites. Oozy and itchy. There’s no picture. You’re welcome.
So, yeah, not pregnant. And now out of embryos. You’d think I’d feel worse.
I mean, I did. I did feel worse. I started to cry on the phone with the nurse. I sat on the couch and cried while alerting the media that this trip was motherfucking over, man. I felt sad and lost and alone (wow, the alone part…. yeesh) and disappointed and weepy and then stuffy from crying and sad and really sad and really, really sad and shocked and a whole host of other things that I can’t come up with names for.
And then I got in bed. To hide, briefly.
And then the troops began to descend. A friend showed up and put me in her car and we got treaty coffees and then walked and took pictures and talked and I said lots of things I was feeling and she said lots of things that were very wise and then we got drenched in a summer storm and the sun came back out in the rain and it was like we were in some tropical-rainforest-paradise made up by a theme park only it was real life, y’all. Real fucking life. Better than you knew, right?
And then I went for fancy cocktails with another friend, and we didn’t talk about my infertility shit at all. By design or no, I have no idea, but it was pretty great.
And then a whole mess of my girls came over, which had been scheduled for a while, so it didn’t feel, thank you baby Jesus, like a pity party, but was really just great. Popcorn and whiskey for everyone! Well, they had wine.
Meanwhile, the internets kept checking in, which really does help. It does, internets. So thanks.
For the moment, I really think I am ok. No idea what happens now and I am certain the sad/alone/lost/etc will come and go according to no schedule at all. But, right now, I think I’m ok.
Now with bonus picture:
I’m not pregnant. Really, this is the norm, so why stray from it?
Lest you worry overmuch, I am doing ok. It sucks but I am ok. Either that or the steroid euphoria hasn’t worn off yet.