Yesterday sucked. I mean, not in a "my house burned down" or "I found out I had cancer kind of way," just in a frustrating mundane "life just keeps happening and as soon as you get something done you have to do it again over and over until you eventually die" kind of way.
Last month or two have been a marathon of brush burning. Drag stuff out, get a fire going, break up the larger branches so they fit the fire pit, saw up logs that are too big to burn practically, manage to burn up stump/root sections that are too big to saw up practically, repeat. Eventually I had a good enough bed of coals that I could just rake them up and put fresh wood on the next day to get the fire going. Finally, I got done. The night before a big storm was coming. So the next day I had fresh branches to burn. Kicked into OCD mode because I NEEDED to be done with this job. Ideally it would be better to let the green branches dry out a bit but by God I was getting the job done. This is when I realized I was missing one of my fire pokers. When I was putting away from being "done" burning I set it somewhere "where I won't lose it" and that's where it is, apparently.
Meanwhile, with all the sun and rain, the gravel driveway that I just spent months raking down to dirt, pulling out all the weeds, and then raking back into place is again a lush green carpet. I hadn't even finished the job before it grew back. Fuck it. Round-Up time.
Then it was messes. Making kalua pig in the Crock Pot and pouring off the excess juice to use for soup stock. In spite the Crock Pot having a very nicely defined lip, I proceeded to pour about 20% of the broth down the side and all over the counter and floor. Stop to clean that up. Oh, on an unrelated topic, lately The Dog has been taking half-length patrols. Like every day. So the one time she insisted on taking a longer than normal patrol? The only time this week that I absolutely planned to be somewhere right after. Oh, and I've lost count of how many woodtick bites I'm covered with at this point. Anyway, I eventually got around to mowing the lawn. You need to mow the fucking lawn every six days this year or it gets away from you and clogs the mower. Every couple dozen yards I'd have to stop because I'd found more downed wood from the storm. Luckily the green wood was smoldering instead of burning cleanly, so I could just add the fresh wood and the fire would relight. That said, it took a lot of work with the lighter, paper bags, and eventually hunks of cardboard to get the tinder and kindling to sustain a flame. Oh, but mowing. Ran out of gas almost immediately so I had to go get gas.
Had a glass of water when I came in. Managed to bang it against the back of a chair so I had to stop and mop up water. Made rice to go with the kalua pig. Had the kitchen window open so it was blowing against the burner just enough that it wouldn't simmer at the usual setting. So I turned it up and of course when I had time to check on it it had boiled over so I had to stop and clean up the stove before dinner. I couldn't even successfully pee in the toilet without stray spatters that needed to be stopped to clean up.
Getting fat. Thought I might have a date and then the girl I was chatting with just *disappeared*. Seriously, I'm starting to feel like there's some secret password for women that no one ever told me, because things will seem to be going well and then all of a sudden it just ends. What else? Oh. Working on the shed. Nearly "done" with it--until I realize how much stuff is *really* left to do. And anyway, when that's done, I've got the carriage house that needs a ton of work. It just goes on and on and on. Always cleaning up messes, doing and redoing things over and over, and getting older and weaker and stupider every day. Bleah.
