on big soothers, gardening metaphors and two ladies doing what they want
Coco, our cat, whining in the car on the way to the farm. It reminds me of being on the I-60, driving from Riverside to LA with Elsie in the back. She’s 2 months old and I go to LA because I want to walk around where the interesting stuff is happening…Santa Monica or Silverlake. Not Riverside. Riverside is where my grief and boredom live, in our tiny one bedroom apartment lined with cheap carpet and ants. When Elsie cries in the car, I reach back and try to reposition her big soother. It’s a feat to find her face and keep us driving straight. Fortunately, the soother is enormous and her face tiny. So, usually I’m successful. I wonder why they haven’t invented big soothers for cats…
Ducks by Kate Beaton - my latest book club read!
It’s a graphic novel that explores the author’s life as a worker in the oil sands of Fort McMurray. She paints a vivid picture of what it was like to be a woman among so many men. She shows the toll it took on her mental health to be constantly on guard for her physical and emotional safety, along with the extreme boredom that also came with the job. Beaton is originally from Cape Breton, which I didn’t know was a place that many have wanted to (or felt they had to) leave in order to make a living. Beaton writes: “I need to tell you this—there is no knowing Cape Breton without knowing how deeply ingrained two diametrically opposed experiences are. A deep love for home, and the knowledge of how frequently we have to leave it to find work somewhere else.”
Violet is making “priceless art.” I ask for a copy and she says no! This one is for Grandma and if she makes a second then it wouldn’t be priceless. The art collector in me wonders how I can get my hands on one of her new pieces. She’s playing with figurine shapes on her rainbows now and I must own a work from this new era. I go get the box of Hallowe’en candy to see if we can come to another arrangement.
Drawing was Violet’s weekend pleasure; weeding was mine. I’m struck by the excellent metaphor weeds make for the things that need to be rooted out in our lives (in my case fear, anxiety, competition), but refuse to be extricated easily. The weeds I was pulling at had doggedly splayed their root system through my herb garden as if to say, “I’ll take that space and that little bit of earth unless you try to stop me!” So it was important that I show them some resistance with my grunting and panting and wrong tools! These weeds needed a serious shovel, but there I was with a dainty trowel falling all over the place, but yes, persevering until that moment when it finally…released into my hands and I fell backwards into the dirt. Victory. Now for applying the metaphor to my soul garden :) Big shovel, please.
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In other news…this week on the podcast Nat and I reframe the “parental push” as well as give you a taste of our life hacks and enhancers. Our tips will help you hack something!
Excited for that Beaton graphic novel!