Another Doldrum Day

Cholla Cactus buds

Today, again, I feel out of sorts and not very vocal.  The sun is in and out, and it's not exactly cold, but it's not warm either.  Kind of a depressing weather day.  It strikes me that there are not enough words in the English language to describe the many mental states and moods that frame our lives. 

I am simultaneously overstimulated and bored.  I feel impatient and unwilling to take the time to describe all of the arguments and emotional states I have been working through.  I've been thinking about where to homestead (East or West Coast); whether or not to eat meat; whether or not I want to have animals on my homestead (related to whether or not it's legitimate to eat animals or to use their products or offspring for my own convenience); when to move; and what to do in the next fifteen minutes.  I'm also agitated, I realize, because I'm still fumbling around with the life changes I've experienced over the last three years. 

Cholla Cactus buds

There has been some crazy shit, some of which I've described, such as adapting to chronic illness, leaving my job, and moving to rural New Mexico from the metro D.C. area.  Other things have included separating and becoming divorced from my husband; meeting someone new (M.) and moving in together and then here to New Mexico; my son abruptly moving out to live with his father for a period, then moving back home,  moving with us to N.M. and transferring to UNM Taos, and then deciding to move to California to live with his grandparents and go to college there. 

It's an odd transition, having your only child leave home, and divorcing after being with someone for more than twenty years.  I think both of these things were for the best.  At the same time, it's a very strange thing to find myself childless after twenty years, and apart from a person I shared my life with since I myself was a teenager.   It's hard to describe the feeling:  it's a deep sadness, but it's mixed with the knowledge that these are things that I think are for the best.  It's not a desire to go back to what was (well, occasionally there is some nostalgia); instead, it's something like a feeling of loss.  I feel like I'm in mourning for my old life, the people in it, and who I was when we were together.

Somebody ate a Flicker; this is what's left.

 I suppose what brings this on is learning that my ex-husband is now engaged and plans to be married this summer.  I'm happy for both of them and excited that he is moving forward to forge a new relationship.  But it also marks the definitive closing off of my former life. And I'm sad about that.  I suppose I've moved far enough away in time from the relationship that the wounds from it and the intensity and confusion of the feelings associated with its ending have healed somewhat, and now I have more positive memories of the whole relationship. I'm sad about losing what was, even though there were some pretty horrible parts to it as well as the positive ones. 

Also, I see many of my friends still with young children and I envy them.  This too is odd.  Most of me doesn't want children--I'm happy to have my independence and I don't know if I have the patience or energy to be raising a child--but I miss the way life is when you have a child in the house.  I miss going to the library and participating in community activities for kids, I miss reading bed-time stories, I miss the silliness and fun of holidays with young children.   That ends eventually for everyone who has children, I know, but unlike my ultimate feeling of contentedness with the end of my marriage, I'm not sure if I'm similarly at the point where I'm ready to be done with having a child in the house.  So, yeah. 

In other less psychologically personal news, yesterday I prepared two beds and planted one with yellow and the other with red onions.  I planted a full bed of yellow onions in the fall but very few are showing any signs of life, so I bought some more.  I'd like to eventually do my onions from seed, I know it's much cheaper.   Today I put my seed flats outside for a few hours.  There's not enough light inside and some of them are stretching.  But outside, the sun and wind are so intense that they can damage the young seedlings. I'm not sure what the solution is. 

Squirrel

I tried to get up my gumption to plant some peas this morning but couldn't quite manage it.  I need to make a support system for them to climb on.  Part of my reluctance is my doubt that anything will come of them.  It will soon be too hot during the days for them to produce, even though we are still getting frosts at night and the occasional snow shower.  I also couldn't find any appropriate poles to string the chicken wire on, and there are no trees here that can be cut down.

This afternoon I tried to take a nap but couldn't so I went for a walk with Siris instead and discovered a new trail.  I came home exhausted and then took a short nap.  Immediately after dinner, Siris wanted another walk.  He keeps me moving.  I realized that he has me very well trained.  All he has to do is stand in front of me with a certain expression on his face and I get up, open the door, and off we go on a walk.  He at least gets told he's a good boy when he does what I want him to.  I could use some positive reinforcement sometimes, too.