The perils of overthinking in the derby world.

So last night was my first, full on regular league practice.


um

There were a few times where I actually thought the evening was going to end in me in the back of an ambulance.   For realz.


I PROMISE I am not being all "waaaaa....I suck....blah blah blah"   But the moment I have three highly skilled derby vets stampeding towards me with a blood thirsty glare you can bet your ass that I'm skating the fuck away as fast as my untrained feet will take me.  Unfortunately, for the purpose of that particular drill, my objective as the blocker was to block and most certainly NOT to run away.  But seriously folks, running away like a cowardly child was the only intelligent choice when put head to head with the only other option of a broken collar bone.  Of course, running away just isn't enough.  I also had to yelp and then belly flop on the floor.

I just want to stay in the corner and practice transitions.

Easy peasy. I'm gonna do it like I have been told repeatedly.

Step one, lead with foot.  Step Two, spread eagle with other and switch directions.  Step Three, gracefully land with starting foot.  Step Four, finish off with a beautiful tomahawk.  

Annnnd GO!  

Attempt #1

Step One-lead with foot.  Step Two, spread ea....gah....this feels weird.  Step Three-fall on your knees.  Step Four- be told you are over thinking the process.  Again.

OK.  I think I have this this time.

Attempt #2

Step One-lead with foot
Step Two-Spread eagle zomigodz I did it I DID IT!!!!  ACK!  What's next?!
Step Three-fall on tail bone.
Step Four-have another vet tell me I'm over thinking.


Time to take another approach.  Close my eyes and go for it.

Attempt #3

Step One Two Three Four.    Give er.

Step 5.  Fall badly.  Pretend it didn't hurt.

Attempt #4#5#6#7 etc etc

Fall fall fall

Attempt #40 and on....

Got it.  Finally.

Back to the pack.

Elbowed, punched in the kidneys.  Trampled.  What are the rules again?!   Transitioning on your own is one thing, transitioning while going full speed is a whole other ball of wax.  Down I went, 6 derby girls on top of me.

Over thinking every move.

And then it hit me.  I have nothing to live for!     When I reflect and when I really break things down I realize that not only have I based my life on  humiliating myself  I have no real skill set or qualities that make me an important part of this world.   I am totally disposable!  In fact, if I were to die in a freak, derby related accident that's actually the best case scenario!  I die happy AND my kids get an insurance pay out.......so what am I worried about?!?!


I just need to go for it!   This is one of those times where the worse case scenario is actually the best case scenario.    I think I have finally won this round.


Now if I can remember to keep my tits to the track I might hit my 25 in 5.

Oh yeah

There is nothing I love more than cooking for myself.   It seems to have been forever since I spent some time in the kitchen, listening to music and focusing just on cooking.  No rush.

No- "I don't likes"

No -"when is dinner going to be ready"

No- " well you should really try this"


Just me.  Listening to music, singing along.  Pretty much the best ever.


I rifled around my fridge and sadly there were no 3 pound tbone steaks but there WAS a fist full of glorious asparagus and as we ALL know the only universal truth is that asparagus is the greatest vegetable in the world.   In season Ontario asparagus?!  I died.


I happened upon this recipe.  Now, I am a HUGE fan of creamed spinach on French toast so I knew I was in for it.   So bloody simple and plain but just about the most magnificent thing I have ever tasted IN MY LIFE!  And everyone knows how much I hate exaggerating.

I pretty much came in my own mouth.

And the next time I make it there will be freshly grated parm and crisped up prosciutto....and then I will die.

WHYYYYYYYYYY!?!?!

Why have I waited 36 years to discover the glory that is folk and blues.

I just can't even go on.   It's just sooo good.  I can't get enough.

So yeah, I think I need to buy a guitar and learn this shit.

Some wars were never meant to be won.

I don't know why I have bothered fighting this one.  I don't know why it has been so goddamned important especially since I don't even know what winning LOOKS like.

Yet here I am, in the middle of the same ugly fight I have been having for way too long.

My goddamned hair.

It's a fucking curse and if one.more.person says they are envious of it I swear to god I'm punching them in the throat.

It's thick.  There's a lot of it.  It grows like crazy.   It's boring.

I see folks run around with their flawless locks, bouncing, short, long, purple, brunette.  Updo, or carelessly at their side.  What I'm trying to say is that every single person in the world had the nicest hair ever but me. I want CUTE hair.  I don't want boring.  I want colour and fun and clips and all!

Ok.  I'm doing it.  I'm going all radical this time. THIS TIME will be different.  THIS TIME the girl is going wild.

In retrospect my first mistake was not being communicative enough with my 19 year old stylist.  She was kind and nice and  a-fucking-DORABLE.  So so sweet and I absolutely will see her again.  A real pleasure.  But when a 19 year old sees me they see an old lady, who, when asking for something fun, ends up getting the lamest highlights and lame cut that EVERY SINGLE BORED HOUSEWIFE gets when THEY want something "radical".  She doesn't see the super hip and cool Jimmy Kimmel mega fan that I really am.

Anyhoo.....as someone who now looks like bored housewife I'm cursing my life.  IT'S THE WORST.

Unfortunately, because I kind of am a bored housewife I also lack an additional $200.00 to get the actual radical fun haircut/colour I so desire.

So what's a super amazing broad to do?   Well, she googles "cute ways to wear bandanas to cover bad hair cut"

And sure, it looks cute.  I also now look like a 36 year old woman posing as a hipster and/or 10th grade high school student.  I don't care as it's the lessor of the two evils.  And I have given up.

This battle is futile.  

I'm exhausted.

The hair wins.

What does it all mean?

Sometimes I have a heavy heart.

Why are people cruel to each other?

War.  What gives?

What is my purpose?

Why do I like HawthoRNe?

And just as my head is about to explode with Existentialist musings I am introduced to something so incredible, so inspiring, so...so......Christoph Waltz dressed as a hamster....... well, I realize, it just doesn't matter.

Nothing matters.  It just is.  It's glorious.  It's wonderful.   It's Kevin Spacey as Piano Cat.  

 I will never unsee this magnificent masterpiece.   And my life is complete.

Oh man.

I'm going to make every effort to totally meltdown at least 4 times a year.


Yesterday it all came to a head and I spent the better part of the evening a'sobbing away.   I soon realized that I wasn't even upset anymore.  I just needed that crazy release.  I reached out to everyone on my short list of people who have really seen me mental and got the reassurance I so needed.

Cathartic.

To be fair to myself, I haven't been able to work out at.all. since my foot injury and there has been no where for the negative energy to go.  Crying seems the natural alternative.   When I started crying during "Sexy and I Know It" it occurred to me that I might be dealing with a sliiiiiight monthly hormonal surge that has been plaguing me since I was 13.  The constant slamming of my teenaged daughters door provided further evidence that my problem might be driven more by physiology and not Daddy Issues.

Ignoring all rationalisation I managed to get myself home,  bid a final farewell to the lovely Mr. M (who, objectively speaking, is waaaay too good for me :o)  ) go on the most pitiful half run/half limp, eat a LOT of ice cream and down a bottle of wine  savour a wee sniff of vino.

Anyhoo....to reward myself for my self serving I am fleeing the city for the evening but not before shelling out an arm and a leg for a new haircut and colour.

ABOVE AND BEYOND!!!

Kale. The soul destroyer.

It was all very innocent enough.

About three months ago my Mom told me that my Dad bought me Kale seeds.  A small red variety.  I was of course over the moon.  And antsy!   So I'd see my Dad here and there.  No kale seeds.  Ok.  Maybe he's going to pot it for me!  How thoughtful!!!  What a wonderful gesture!

No seeds.

The past few days have been a lot.  This time of year can chaotic and  seeing as it's only me around these parts keeping it together, well, it sometimes seems like an insurmountable burden.  Humans seek comfort.  It's what we do.  It's normal.  I'm normal.  I need an ear.  I need a sympathetic shoulder.  Need some comfort.  What's NOT normal is to seek comfort in someone who genuinely dislikes me.  Now, this is going to sound like a "boo hoo poor me" vent.  It isn't.  I'm 36 years old.  My Dad doesn't like me.  And that is ok.  Not everyone is going to like me, afterall, I'm not always the easiest person to like.
 
 But he must like me, he BOUGHT ME KALE SEEDS!!!   He likes me.  He really likes me!


Anyhoo...sometimes we need Dad.  Dad's buy kids ice cream when they are down.   They see that they are feeling totally unappreciated because they ARE totally unappreciated.  They give pearls of wisdom, really driving home how awesome you are.    They rub their kids heads and say things like "You've got this!"  "I'm proud of you!"    Convinced this time would be different and I would indeed be the recipient of words of encouragement and high caloric treats,  off I went. 

After sitting in uncomfortable silence, watching my Dad watch TV I decided that it was all a wash and that I would just go ahead and beg him to come see a derby bout.  Prepared for the argument as he full well told me he would NEVER go see a bout I geared up.  And then something caught my eye.

The package of red kale seeds.


All of a sudden I was placated.  And ashamed.  How could I behave so ungratefully?    I KNEW this gift was coming but I was bratty and greedy.  I also know how shy my Dad can be, so  I sheepishly asked if I could have some seeds.  This would surely jog his memory that he in fact bought them for me.  Hurrah!  What a clever little manipulator I am!

  "You'll have to ask your Mother.  They're hers"

I totally lied.  This is TOTALLY a boo hoo FML post.    Except it's evolved into a "I'm really fucking pissed off" post.

I bawled all the way home like the kid does BEFORE they get the motherfucking ice cream.  I bawled and bawled cause sometimes it's just nice to feel like you are worth something.  Yeah, yeah yeah,  we are all in charge of our own happiness but sometimes, especially when you feel utterly lost, it's ok  to need to feel valued, by anyone.  And you know what?  Your  Dad is a good start. .  Once.  Just once.  Tell me that I'm doing an ok job and I haven't ruined my life.   Tell me it'll get easier.  Tell me it's ok.  Tell me I'm doing a good job and that you are proud of me.    Be a fucking father..  I didn't ask to be here, the least a guy can do is fake it.

  

So I went home and gardened.   Committed to a freeze out.  Like a petulant child I'M NEVER TALKING TO HIM AGAIN.  


Sigh...but this is not true.  

And I'll buy my own fucking red kale seeds.


And god help me if I ever make my own kids feel this way.


The End.

Gardens, personal injury and allowing help.

I'm just gonna go ahead and say that this long weekend was one of the best I've seen in a long time.

The weather was SO nice.  I was SO free of commitments yet I managed to pack a ton into the days.  I suffered a tragic gardening accident, a sad reminder that my Mom is always right and I shouldn't garden in flip flops.  There is always a 100 year old steel rake just waiting to be stepped on.    Once I seek the required medical attention and get a tetanus shot all will be well AND I was forced to accept some help with the garden so all around people were happy.

And right now I'm capping it all off, typing outdoors on my deck with a bottle of beer, waiting for dinner to be prepared and brought to me.  Pretty much the best.

Amazing

My garden is coming along like craaaaazy.  My only real regret is that I don't have an awesome camera to get really good pictures.

So here is the large front bed.   There are three huge hostas coming up so that one is fairly maintenance free.   A little weeding here and there but nature just kinda takes it's course.   My original plan was to let the Veronica spread over the stones but now I'm thinking that I really like how it simply edges the bed.  So I think I will plant lots of thyme to fill in the gaps.

This little area is the butterfly garden.  I lost my butterfly bush over the winter so I replaced it with a lupin.  I am yet to successfully grow lupin.  Not because of dogs or bugs but because for some horrible reason I always step on it and destroy it.   More is popping up so I'm pretty giddy about that!   That said, I'm trying really hard to to fret about the ability of the phlox to grow over the mountain of mulch.  Deep breath...doesn't have to be perfect.   My area is terrible for pollinators so it's so awesome to see all of the bees and butterflies in the summer.

The middle here was an afterthought of last year and expanded quite a bit.  I decided to plop some potted geraniums and trailing verbena in the middle of it.  Potted plants always look so sad in the beginning.  Assuming I actually remember to water them they should look quite lovely.  The border of the driveway I just try to avoid looking at.  Not sure why I thought planting garlic was a good idea.  I just want to till the whole area and week, alas, can't until early July when the garlic is harvested.   Also depends if the gangrene takes over.  Hard to do this with one foot.

This is just a wee little bed at the front.  I'm amazed I didn't totally fuck up transplanting peonies. They even have little flowers waiting to bloom.  I also planted some marigolds I planted from seed.  I would like to see what colours they are.  Tres exciting.

Here is the entrance way to the backyard.  I almost lost my shit when I realized that the clematis I planted last year wasn't the same.  Not the same colour or timing of blooms.  So I yanked em out and instead morning glories will take their place.  I also hate the stones so I have been slowly taking them out, to be replaced with a stonecrop.

And finally my veggie garden.

I love how clean and neat it all is.   Don't get me wrong, it'll be a crazy mess in about a month.  But I love how everything is in it's place.

I also bought this hot pepper plant.  Any vegetable that has warnings on the tag is alright in my books!

All should be well assuming that the greatest gardening menace doesn't escape the backyard

Dear Derby. I am conflicted.

I'm starting to now really feel the effect that this derby thing is having over my life.   Turns out it demands quite a bit out of my life.  It's very much like a committed relationship.

A smothering relationship that literally bruises me.  Repeatedly.

So I ask myself.  Am I any good?   Well, objectively speaking the answer is a firm No.   I'm not being hard on myself.  I am being realistic.   I'm also being realistic when I say that I am giving this shit 100%.   I always leave the arena a sweaty mess.   These days I am repeatedly hit.  Two hours, getting checked.     When I think back to my first few weeks where I couldn't stand for more than five minutes before wiping out and bruising my tail bone it amazes me how much I have improved.   My first 25 in 5 I managed 6 laps.  Now I'm averaging 22.   Can I deliver a quality, legal full body hit?  Hahaha.  Not even close.  Can I give a mediocre lower hit?  Yep!   I can now confidently slowplow, often times so well that my wheels make that awwwwwwwwwesome sound.  Yesterday I did 20 real sit ups in 1 minute.  Would a fit person laugh when I boast about that?  Yep!  But holy shit, I haven't been able to even a single one in years.   That right there is amazeballs.     Am I derby skating good?  hahaha.  No.  Could I rock a roller rink on family days?  Absolutely!

I have been making every effort to constantly remind myself of my improvements rather than focusing on the losses.   It's a process and in my case it's a slower one.    Minimums testing is right around the corner and I would be extremely surprised if I passed.   No matter how hard I try there are still things I just can't get.    Third times the charm!  The first time around I passed all of the derby skills but few of the skating skills.   This time I am really excited to see how many MORE of the the skating skills I pass.  I have some that I think I might pass and some I know I wont.  I am looking forward to getting an objective assessment


So what the problem?

Well, currently it's a lot of time.  I have derby practice and soon it will be four hours a week.  I see a  derby trainer individuall and will be starting  kettlebell classes soon.  I'm running again to improve my cardio and even joined a 5K.  I eat for derby, work out six days a week for derby.  Time.  Time that I love.  Time that, for the most part, I will move mountains for.  Lots of time.  And I have to take away other time to make way for this time.

It really is a personal life crusher.

And it's just going to get busier.   But while weighing the pros and cons of continuing it always weighs in derby's favour.

Kaa...BANG

That is the sound of my heart exploding.


I'm always amazed at how much love I am capable of in a short period time.  Like those wise motherfuckers, Mumford and Sons say, I will love with urgency and not with haste.

Oh, hello there, Leroy!

Three hours it took for me to capture this, the only picture of the three of us together.  These dogs never stop moving.

I NEED to dog nap this dog.  

Good times

A quiet Friday night plus rewatching Sons of Anarchy equals just about the best ever.  A baby doobe ain't a bad idea either.

Happy Weekend to the world.

That wonderful smell of worms.

Having recently discovered Dave Van Ronk and the weather starting to cooperate I am fairly certain I have finally reached a zen state.


Typically,  by this time of year I have already done so much outside.  It's just been so wet and dreary and COLD that has been hard to muster the enthusiasm to do anything.  But Spring is here, perhaps to stay and I am so invigorated and rejuvenated that I want to stay out all.day.long.  I'm also a wee bit  ambitious this year so I am trying to figure out a way to create a vertical gardening concept without spending a single penny.  It'll  look silly but it should get the job done.

So this is what I'm planting.

Beans
Tomatoes-beef steak and bonny best.
Swiss Chard
Butternut squash-not optimistic
cucumbers
Watermelon-not optimistic
Zucchini-
Red peppers-hopeful
peas
kohlrabi
brocolli - first time

I have a wonderful big bay window and I managed to get some really nice looking seedlings of  Morning Glories, marigolds, my tomatoes, cucumber and the squashes.   Here are some of the seedlings DYING to be planted.  Seriously.  My goddamned cats who happen to be the shittiest cats I have ever known are systematically destroying them.

My front yard is still a work in progress.   Mowing the lawn is a chore I hate.   I'll do it, but it sucks.  Gardening is something I adore.  Why not simplify life a bit and just get rid of the grass and make it into something that gives me pleasure.  So, my goal is for it to eventually be grass free and a giant perennial  garden.  But that's a lotta work and a lotta mulch so slow and steady.  Still, I am so excited about it.  This time of year it's very much a clean slate but lots of stuff popping up, bigger and better.

That said, I am not sure what I am going to do with a large part of it.  As you can see there is a lot of space in need of inspiration and I'm just trying to figure out what to do with it.

AND ugh ugh...I decided last year that I didn't like the black mulch.  So I decided to do natural mulch AND I HATE IT.  So I think I'm going to try to find a darker mulch.   If not, back to black.

The back yard?  *sigh*  Now, at the end of the day my deck is one of my favourite places to be in the evening.  The best.  So I'll continue to fight for some grass but not lose too much sleep over it.

I have a fairly complex relationship with gardening.   I think it's a healthy obsession.  I am well aware of how much work it can be and it can be reeeeeaaallllllllyyyyy frustrating BUT.....god....I get gardening catalogues for chrissakes.  It is literally NEVER done so there is always something more that needs to be done.


And now, after the longest of winters I can finally begin.



-

Leaving Gary behind.

I am a huge fan of these types of youtube videos

immeeeeeeeltingggg


God, these dogs.  Just love.  They do nothing wrong.  Ever.

Unlike Gary.......


Baby lock #3...note the cat toy behind him...that he ate.

This youtube dogs are perfect gentlemen.  They always listen.  They never put muddy paws on the furniture and I am super duper sure they have never EVER done something as outrageously heinous as this...

And this is why Jesus created Boarding facilities.   So people like me can get the hell outta town without worry.  So that we get a break from the puppy insanity.   You know what?  I bet this lil'bastard will be so overcome with emotion upon my return that he will never ever ever misbehave again.   Ever.



....record sccccratch......



Oh shit...what if he thinks I abandoned him?!?!?

Aaaand now I'm worried.     Sure, I had vetted the joint fairly well and it comes highly recommended by many folks at the dog park AND he has been there before.   BUT...at the end of the day it is just a business.  Will he get affection?   What if the other dogs are mean to him?


Now all I see is this this face, begging to be loved.

Love me

Don't leave me

Pleeeeeese love me

I am not totally irrational, I am aware that dogs are dogs and only their people humanize them with these sentimentalities but I am totally convinced that Gary is the best person I have ever known.  Yeah, yeah...he's a bastard...but he means well.    All of a sudden I care very little about the destroyed back yard.  I don't really care that he chases the cats (I hate those cats, anyway).  All I can think about is him being bullied by another dog....and that terrible time I yelled at him for chewing a bone on the couch, when he WASN'T chewing on a bone on a couch.


I think this will be good for me.  I'm clearly off the rails on this one....especially since you will notice that I am not at all concerned about the girls also being gone.    

Mother of the Year for the win!!!  

Gahhhhh HAHAHA

This is the best way to start an awesome weekend.

Can't.stop.watching.


BEST.EVER!