For some reason today has been dark for me. Woke up feeling dead-eyed and hollow and although it was a lot less humid and therefore more tolerable outside, I just could not bring myself to walk but instead, worked in my garden for three hours, pulling weeds, mulching, and then planting a row of rattlesnake beans and a row of zipper peas but they were left over from last summer and I have no idea if they'll sprout or not. Beans to me seem to keep the germ of life within them forever, once they are dried, but who knows?
A few weeks ago when I made black bean soup from a recipe and was reading the comments on it, people kept talking about making sure the beans were "fresh." Dried beans. I've never considered the age of a dried bean. Have you? By their very nature, dried beans are the opposite of fresh beans. Every bean I've ever cooked has eventually softened and become delicious. I think this whole concept of fresh versus old dried beans may be bullshit unless the beans are ten years old or something.
But whether or not that translates to sprouting, we shall see.
I've been putting off going to the store but today I knew I really needed to go and I found myself in Publix having to remind myself to breathe which hasn't happened in forever. Publix is as familiar to me as my own yard but sometimes, I guess, when anxiety is abounding, anxiety can happen there as well as anywhere. I managed to get my shopping done and I also managed to avoid talking to someone I know from old hippie days which was a huge relief to me. I just couldn't do it. I reassure myself that she probably had no real desire to talk to me either and so that's not a big deal.
Maurice has been fighting again. Her right eye is swollen almost shut and she has tiny wounds on her face. I don't know if she's been fighting Jack or the other gray and white cat who desperately tries to come into the house to eat cat food and pees in the house when he does manage to slip past the guard cats and whom my neighbor has asked Glen to shoot although she's also said that if she gets a chance, she'll shoot him. This is the neighbor who calls if she hasn't seen Jack in a few days because he visits her to get canned cat food. And she brushes Jack. With a brush. Which he reportedly loves. So if he doesn't show up for a few days, she worries.
I haven't seen that other gray and white cat for awhile though and I think that Maurice is attacking Jack or vice versa. They have been extra growly and spitty and wary when they accidentally meet up in the house lately. And of course Jack outweighs Maurice by about ten pounds (seriously) and never shows a scratch on him.
The chickens are good. I had not gotten an egg in days and almost bought some at the store today but then I remembered to look in the little shelter in the coop where the young chickens were sleeping before they moved to the regular hen house and sure enough, I found six lovely ivory eggs of various sizes.
And that's it. It seems to me that the noose around DT's neck is slowly being pulled tighter and tighter and even that thought does not thrill me. What a huge and horrible mess he's made of our country and what terrible suffering he's putting people through and even if he is removed from office I fear it is going to be decades before we can begin to really see positive, good change again.
All I can say on days like this is that if I manage to put one foot in front of the other, get the laundry done and supper on the table, I've done as much as I can possibly do.
Time to go and attempt to achieve that goal.