Friday, November 29, 2013

A Bit Of Melancholy

I believe it is the last day of doe season in Jefferson County and indeed, my husband is in a deer stand because we are almost out of sausage and every now and then I hear a shot and I hope it's a good one and that a family will get meat. We are fortunate enough that venison is a luxury but for some around here, it is more than that.
Protein, I have always said, is where you find it and some fish for it and some hunt for it and some grow their beans and gather the nuts for it and some do all of that.

I have been lazy today. I sat on the couch and watched a silly stupid romcom with pretty people in it doing silly, senseless, ridiculous things and of course they ended up together for forever and ever and happily, which goes without saying. I enjoyed it. I will also say that Matthew McConaughey's breasts are bigger than Kate Hudson's but I find that incredibly charming.

Mr. Moon fixed the washing machine and let me just say that when you leave an entire giant box of wooden kitchen matches in your pocket and then it all goes through the wash cycle, things are apt to get a bit fucked up. But he took it all apart and fixed it and now I'm catching up on the laundry and I'm also boiling the damn turkey carcass in my biggest pot of all and what I'm going to do with all of this broth and meat is beyond me. I know, I know- freeze it, make soup of it. Yes, of course I'll do that. It's just in such a massive quantity. And so now my house smells like Thanksgiving all over again and that sort of makes me feel ill. We may have tomato soup and grilled cheese sandwiches tonight if we eat at all. I really haven't eaten that much of anything this past two days but just the smell of all of it, the overabundance of it, is enough to make me feel full and slightly nauseous.
I wish with all of my heart I'd put off the ritual turkey carcass boiling for another day but I did not and there's no going back now.

Here's a thing I did today- I made a new phone list for the side of the refrigerator. Do you still have one of those? I know, I know- our phones hold all of our numbers but what happens if the phone dies, if we lose it? I like having that list. I liked sitting down and writing it out by hand.
And now my phone list doesn't have the number of the nurse's station at the assisted living where my mother lived. Nor does it have her phone number. Or her social worker's. It was time.

And that's been my day. Lazing and laundry, writing out a phone list, boiling turkey bones in a huge silver pot. A shiver goes through me and I wonder how in hell I'm going to get through the next month.

Well, I will, and we all will, but let's stay close, okay? Let's hold hands and light candles to dispel the darkness. Let's tell wicked jokes and dance when we can and just keep building the bonfires to keep the bad spirits of winter at bay. Whatever it takes, let's do it and reassure each other that it'll be all right.
Some how. It will.

The sun has set and doe season is over. I imagine my man will be home soon, with or without a deer.

Yes. Here he is, as we speak and I am glad he is home, the truck pulled into the yard, the door slams. He is home.



13 comments:

  1. Yes. Let's hold hands. That is a fine idea. Melancholy over here too.

    ReplyDelete
  2. I would love some of that delicious turkey broth, please.

    ReplyDelete
  3. Melancholy or something like it here too. I hope you're right and we get through the next month.

    ReplyDelete
  4. Angella- It is the Season Of Melancholy. There is no getting around it. Just getting through it. I am loving you.

    Mr. Downtown- I'll be in touch with you about that. It is rather lovely.

    Gail- We have to. We simply must.

    ReplyDelete
  5. I fit right in the melancholy season so I think I need to hold hands to get through too. Depressed but always Sweet Jo

    ReplyDelete
  6. Turkey carcass soup is pretty much my favorite thing in the world. Hope you enjoy it when you're ready for it.

    ReplyDelete
  7. Glad that Mr. Moon is home. I had some leftovers today. And there is still a huge turkey carcass. Ugh..,

    ReplyDelete
  8. I'm holding on tight. For dear life, actually.

    ReplyDelete
  9. Sweet Jo- I wish you weren't always depressed but I am glad you are always so sweet. To me, at least.

    NOLA- Made a small pot. It was awesome.

    Syd- You know, I have just thrown the carcass away before in a fit of pique. The world still continued on.

    Elizabeth- Keep doing that. Just keep doing it. There will be joy.

    ReplyDelete
  10. I am sorry. I didn't know I always came across as depressed and don't mean to. Sweet Jo

    ReplyDelete
  11. Sweet, Dear Jo- Oh honey. I didn't mean it that way. In my mind I put the "always" before depressed, not Sweet. I hope with all of my heart that you aren't always depressed and no, you do not always seem that way.
    Kisses and hugs and forgive me, okay?

    ReplyDelete
  12. I forgive you of course. For some reason it made me cry. While I do suffer from bouts of depression that i take medication for, I am certainly not always depressed. Your comment did make me aware of what I say/write and for that I am grateful. S Jo

    ReplyDelete
  13. Aw, I loved that, "let's stay close."

    ReplyDelete

Tell me, sweeties. Tell me what you think.