Weekend Warrior
So I've got this kid….
…and yesterday the boy child came home for the week- along with every freakin' stitch of clothing he owns in garbage bags. We could barely fit it in the back of Ted's Santa Fe! He seems to still have every t-shirt and pair of pants I ever bought him since his freshman year in high school. I buy him new as the old gets raggedy, and he hangs onto the raggedy, apparently.
All weekend the house will be filled with the sound that every parent of a college kid probably associates with school vacation: the chug-chug of the washing machine. My grocery bill went up last week when I started shopping for his favorites, and my water bill is going up this week. But it's awfully nice to have him home. I don't know if soon he won't be coming home much any more… or if he soon will be living here again. Time will tell. I'm good either way: he's such a sweet, lovely boy. Or… man, I guess. He's 21 now, mom: he's a man. I'll have to get used to that, won't I?
They are calling for lovely weather today and tomorrow- I must take advantage and get that darn garden plot finished. I still need to strip the rest of the sod and work in the compost, terrace it a bit, and put up a fence to keep the dogs from dashing through it in pursuit of squirrels. I hold no dreams that a fence will keep the rabbits out.
I love working in the dirt- I love the smell rising off the freshly-turned earth as the sun warms it, and gently re-planting all the little worms I uncover. It makes me feel that, no matter how screwed up things are, there's something right with the world, when the earth is rich and fertile.
The seedlings I planted Tuesday and Wednesday are mostly sprouted already and will soon be clamoring for a home. I keep opening the seeding trays and staring at the little shoots like a proud momma. I love the way each one is different, and the graceful way they curve up from their beds and reach towards the sun. Grow for me, babies, grow! Grow big and strong… so I can eat you!
And then, and then… my daughter asked me to go shopping with her this afternoon. She asked for the old lady to tag along!! I swear to God! She has to get some birthday gifts for friends and hates shopping alone, so would I mind too much going to the mall with her? I'm sure the fact that I'm almost guaranteed to buy her lunch while we're out did not factor into it at all.
Of course this will cut into my digging in the dirt time today but it's a sacrifice I'm willing to make to be with my girl. I must remember to watch for the warning eye rolls that tell me I'm trying too hard to be "fun". Sometimes, even though it's a drag for me, it's best if I just be the mom.
Oh, and one more labor of love: I came home from my mother's house with a whole box of family photos that I'm going to scan, and work a little Photoshop magic where I can. Many are pictures I have already seen, but some are brand new to me. The delight I felt at uncovering delicate black-and-white images of my grandfather, shortly before his death, working on his cane-backed chairs at the State Fair, or cleani
ng fish down by the Big Darby… it's like discovering a piece of myself that I thought I had lost. I can't wait to get to work, and then share the pictures with my family.
It's shaping up to be a good weekend all around.
Tracy Meisky is a poet, writer, singer, songwriter and all-around boat rocker from way back. Feel free to look around, but if you break it, you bought it.