musings

…small and not so small:

It’s been raining on and off this week, and we’ve been getting in some planting where and when we can. I miss my composter though. It’s so not allowed here, for quite understandable reasons, eco-cool or not. Most of our plantings will be flowers, with some chives, catnip (for the kitties, natch), lots and lots of basil, and tomatoes. I’m looking forward to the Farmer’s Market opening in June here to balance out the rest of our veggie menus. I hope someday I live on property with some sort of fruit trees and berry shrubs…for the kiddo, who subsists mostly on fruit, meat, and yogurt these days. In addition to the fresh and pricey berries, she’s mad about fruit cocktail (which horrifies me). Seems this started at her preschool, where she’ll request seconds that her teacher puts aside especially for her. It never occured to me that people really eat this stuff. Mine always, always went untouched on my tray in the school cafeteria. That’s what fruit cocktail seemed like to me. Just a tray decoration that fulfilled a specific dietary requirement per gubmint orders.

So we’ve been outside here and there, and getting to know the neighborhood. Many kids here. A good thing. There’s all sorts of sweet and cute little girls that I’ve mentioned before. Boys too, who mostly play basketball on the small patch of court with the one lone basket on the playground. Basketball’s a big thing here in Connecticut, thanks to the Huskies. Even I watch it. Anyway, what impresses me about the boys is that they do a great deal of passing, instead of being a ball hog. Never played basketball myself, but in high school I played soccer (I think of it as similar, in a sense), and when I wasn’t playing goalie, I was usually forward wing. Unlike goalie, I sucked at being a forward because I didn’t have the concept of passing–ok, let’s be honest–sharing the ball, down. So I’m impressed with these young kids. Passing game’s much more fun to watch too.

The kiddo has been “adopted” by yet another older girl–this one’s only a year her senior. She’s Jade, a fast talking six year old who sports gold sandals and big movie star sunglasses. Jade can very quickly and nimbly run in those sandals. She and the kiddo like to inspect worms on sidewalks and play tag. Jade lives with her grandparents, who reside a couple of buildings down from us. I met her grandfather, John, this winter when I moved here, outside the dumpsters, where I’ve often seen him prowling for soda cans. Sometimes I leave some around for him. He has exactly one tooth, which one very quickly discovers upon meeting him, because he is nearly always smiling. In the late afternoons, he likes to make walking sticks out of thick pieces of fallen branches. That I only discovered recently, when he let me take a look at his latest project, whittled in smooth and steady notches. He says it’s relaxing. I believe him.

Registered the kiddo for kindergarten this week. We were both rather excited. She likes the fact that the lockers are purple. Our liason, who will be working closely with the kiddo during her transition, is named Mrs. Pepper. And of course, the kiddo insisted on calling her Mrs. Salt the entire time. Good times.

There has been the usual, steady dates of court, which drag on and on, with little…actually, nothing, happening. I had this thought, and I hope I don’t depress anyone reading this, but this is the thing….when I was young…well, sort of young; I dated at a very late age….but you know, breaking off relationships was relatively simple, in a sense. Except that someone or sometwo’s feelings got hurt. Which is sad. But eventually, one moves on, more or less, and the important thing for me was, that I was free. During a class discussion once, I was surprised to find that most people don’t leave  a relationship until they find someone else. Never did that. I always just left for me. Anyway, it just seems that as one gets older, more involved; invested, etc—-this breaking up business seems less a separation of individuals and more of an endless, tedious negotiation between warring countries or territories, with the requisite lengthy proposals, agreements, and treaties, smothered in contempt. And everything’s carried out in “civil” and “orderly” fashion, fairly oblivious. Wierd. And so it goes.

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3 Responses to “musings”


  1. 1 Doktor Holocaust May 11, 2008 at 9:37 pm

    I’m not surprised to hear that people don’t leave one relationship until they have another one lined up, especially if the one they want out of has been going on for a long while, as by then having a relationship has become a sort of habit, a part of their lifestyle, and it can look easier to just swap out the offending partner for a new one than it looks to start fresh as wholly unattached.

    I think the latter route is a better choice, though. Less comfortable at the start, but somehow more conducive to personal growth.

  2. 2 petitmuse May 12, 2008 at 12:10 am

    Generally, I don’t understand people who can’t be by themselves much. But then, I’m probably on the other end of the extreme, anyway.

  3. 3 Doktor Holocaust May 12, 2008 at 7:06 am

    I’m at the same end you are. I like it over here.


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