I’m not a person who has a lot of self-forgiveness for making silly mistakes. It’s why I can’t talk myself out of a ticket, if I get pulled over. I get so mad at myself for speeding that despite my being compliant and polite, it reads, to the officer, as crankiness at him (historically it has been a him), and I get the ticket every time.
I’m not someone who likes to be bored—especially not at work. Boredom at work makes the time crawl. Working hard, solving problems, being engaged— all of that is what lights me up. I like a little more challenge than many people I know. Maybe not all challenge, all the time, but enough to keep my very busy imagination occupied, if you please.
A couple of weeks ago, I went to the bank for cash. I very seldom do this— I don’t use a lot of cash and typically find other ways to get what I need to keep on hand (pay the whole tab credit card, have someone pay you their share in cash— that kind of thing), but I was having a yard sale and wanted to be able to make change. I also have my godson mowing my lawn, and I prefer to pay him in cash after a way too involved conversation with his mother related to her banking practices. Continue reading
I’ve been thinking a lot about boundaries, lately, obviously. Mom and I have some clearly articulated boundaries, about which I feel pretty strongly. For example, I want her to speak for herself for as long as she can. I want her to make her own decisions for as long as she can. It’s a mark of my respect for her, but it’s also a safeguard for me, so that I don’t have to take responsibility for her before it’s time.
With all the herbs I’m growing and all the projects I’m considering, I needed a better solution for drying herbs.
My solution so far? I get a long string, tie a bunch of [insert herb here] to both ends and hang it in a dark, little-used area. In my condo, it was over the showerhead of the guest bath. In my current place, it’s over a curtainrod in a corner of my basement (but sadly in a place I suspect annoys my mother no end because of where she likes to hang laundry). It’s totally workable, but it doesn’t scale particularly well and it’s not convenient when you have someone who wants to use the guest bathroom, say, or someone who objects to your drying herbs in such a fashion.
I searched online and found lovely forged-iron drying racks with six decorative hooks (extra sets of three hooks $5 each) apparently for people who display their drying herbs in their kitchen. Thankfully, my kitchen is way too sunny to dry my herbs there (I don’t know why darkness is specified in every set of instruction I’ve ever seen— probably to preserve color), so I don’t need a decorative solution, just a scalable one.
God bless IKEA. They invented this:
If you look online, you’ll see it’s $10-ish. I’ll be honest, in the store, I paid that for two. Sixteen little clothespins per, and an octopus joke to boot. I bundled my yarrow with a rubber band and hung it from one of the little clothespins. Done and done. Compact and straightforward. I can go in and add bundles of mint, oregano, lavender, and rosemary and not overwhelm the system. I also got one for mom for drying clothes, so we don’t have to fight over it.
A few years ago, I was in therapy, and there was a thing that would reduce me to a teary, shaking mess. Last week, that thing happened. And I’m on the other side of it now. It can and will be argued that there is more to come, but the specific thing I was worried about happened and I found a way through it, and I want to take a minute to celebrate that.