Ugh, sorry. I’m distracted. Something strange is going on with me. The past two days I’ve been feeling terrible after lunch, I mean, crazy depressed and down. Emotionally terrible, not physically. And then right about 3:30 it starts to clear up and I feel like myself again. I’m trying to decide if it’s the beef. I haven’t been eating a lot of it and then I had for lunch yesterday and today and I don’t know if it’s doing something funky or what, but god damn. I think it’s got to be something I can do something about, though because it seems to be triggered by lunch (I feel fine before I eat) and then seems to clear up as lunch digests.
I’m going to try to go vegetarian for lunch tomorrow and see if there’s a difference.
And I’ve been giving a lot of thought to what I want to blog about over at Feministe. The guest bloggers they’ve had so far have been so damn good and I just don’t want to get on there and not rise to the occassion.
We have a tiny watermelon in our garden, though, so that’s happy. It’s like the size of a jawbreaker. I know I’m thinking too far ahead, but how will I know when it’s ripe?
And the Butcher was all alarmed because he thought our pumpkins were growning a giant zucchini and so I went out there and realized he didn’t know pumpkins were green before they ripen. Ha, poor Butcher. We’re going to have a shit-ton of pumpkins, though, I think. I hope the neighbors feel like celebrating Halloween this year, because we will have plenty to share.
I’m always taken aback by how quickly stuff appears. The Professor and I were just out there on Friday, weeding and examining things and moving them around and there were no watermelons and certainly not as many pumpkins. And we are so close to having a shit-ton of tomatoes.
I don’t know. The thing I was thinking about today when I was feeling all depressed is that most of the stuff I do every day doesn’t matter. It’s not important to anyone. I love blogging, but really, that’s a very small portion of my day. But it makes me feel good, and connected.
But I also like growing things and being outside in the dirt. And I’m not sure you could get any more mundane or non-matter-y than that. We don’t need the garden to live. It doesn’t have to feed us. Anything that comes out of it is just a bonus. And yet, it’s something I love.
I keep thinking my problem is that things I do don’t matter, but maybe the truth is that I enjoy frivilous pursuits. It’s actually the stuff that doesn’t matter that makes life worth living.