Roses in December
Woke up this morning absolutely twisted in knots with anxiety. All of the things I'd yet to do before we leave at the crack of dawn on Thursday loomed so large. I needed to cancel the paper for when we'll be gone. I needed to ask the post mistress to hold our mail. We need more laying pellets for the chickens, and cat food for Jack and Maurice. We had to confirm with our neighbor that he would do chicken and cat care on the days when Hank and Rachel aren't here. I didn't have all the medications I need. I hadn't packed one dang thing. I have library books to return. The hen house needs cleaning before we leave.
The anxiety loop tape played over and over in my head.
I wrote my husband, "I am dying of anxiety. I am sorry but I am."
He's heard this all before.
And then he took care of talking to our neighbor and is going to get the chicken food and made sure we can use our debit card in Mexico and will be talking to Verizon about data usage down there too. He e-mailed the hotel and they're saying that we can have a downstairs room which is great and what we wanted.
I tried to call the GEE DEE newspaper people but of course got nowhere. I don't know why we get the damn thing. Their customer service department is wretched. But, I was raised to think that civilized people get up and get their newspaper every morning and then read it, period, the end.
I think we mostly get it so that my husband can read the sports section although the comic "Pickles" is pretty good.
So. That was the one thing on my endless list I actually tried to accomplish.
I did start packing.
Oh, y'all. I used to love to shop and pack for Mexico. Not just thirty years ago but ten years ago too. Five years ago! And now I am so uncomfortable with who and what I have physically become that it's more disheartening than I can say. It's not that I think that older women can't be beautiful. I do! I just don't feel as if I am one of them.
I went through things that I can wear to go out in at night. They are limited and old and certainly do not make me feel beautiful.
Not at all.
I packed a few of those things. And I went through my underwear and picked out the best.
Then I got distracted and started putting clothes I'll never wear again in a garbage bag.
Hoo-boy! At last I'm doing a little closet weeding.
And then I did nothing else in service of trip preparation.
I took trash and recycle. I went to the post office but forgot to talk to the post mistress. I weeded a few rows of my imaginary garden. I cut down a few bananas. I did a lot of sweeping. I made my husband an early supper so that he could leave for a basketball game, fed and happy.
I suppose I just like to wake up feeling insane.
I am going to town tomorrow. I'm going to babysit for Levon and August while Jessie goes to a dermatology appointment. Her tummy is feeling a little bit better today, by the way. I'll get my meds if they're ready and if they're not, I'm going to create a scene. Somehow, some way I will get the newspaper situation taken care of. I will buy cat food. I will start rolling up my linen dresses and putting them in the suitcase. I will make sure I have slips and a few (ugh) bras. I am actually going to need some sweaters, I think.
They're having a cold wave!
I can't wait to see all of the little children dressed in hoodies and parkas. I'm not kidding. They will be.
And it will be wonderful and all will be well and on Saturday there will be a full moon.
I have always been convinced that one of the reasons I am so drawn to Cozumel is that it is the island that was sacred to the Mayan goddess, Ixchel. I've talked about her before. She was the goddess of fertility, pregnancy, childbirth and also, of the moon.
This is my laptop wallpaper.
A fountain with Ixchel pouring life-giving waters from her womb-jar. Also, a rather nice representation of the Caribbean with a cruise ship in the background, not to mention one of the ubiquitous mopeds of Cozumel driving by.
Ixchel is the crone and now, I am too. This is just something I have to accept and when I contemplate her, I feel better about things.
I just google-imaged "Ixchel, crone" and guess what? This picture popped up and it's from a blog post of my own.
To read the post from three years where she appeared, click on the image of that scary, powerful old goddess.
I think she'd look good with a little eyeliner and shadow, don't you?
And to end it all up here tonight, this is the fourth anniversary of my dear friend Kathleen's death. I sure have been thinking about her today as I did that little bit of weeding, as I picked roses, as I counted my chickens this morning and found them to all be here. I will never forget that day, the day she left us. After all of the hospice people had left and after the funeral home people had left, Mr. Moon and Kathleen's husband and I all came back here and I made a huge breakfast with eggs (of course!) and biscuits and sausage and sausage gravy. Her husband wanted that. Sausage gravy. I had never made it but texted Billy to ask him how Maw-Maw had made hers and it was delicious.
So. Here's to Kathleen who gave me far more than I ever could have given her.
And if you are new here and don't know Kathleen, the blog she began when was was diagnosed with cancer can be found HERE.
This is an odd and discombobulated post.
Let's face it- life is odd and discombobulated too.