Just Beth

Time to just write, so please excuse the verbal vomiting that is about to take place.

I find myself coming back to this place day after day, opening up a new, blank screen and NOT finding the inspiration to write.  I don’t know why.  It bothers me, though… a blank page is the most divine thing I can imagine.  It represents new beginnings, endless possibilities, coming to terms with anything that’s been bugging me.

That may be the problem, there’s been too much bugging me lately.

I’ll start with a day, May eighteenth.

It’s a big day for me, at least this year.  Two things have happened on May eighteenth that beg me to give them space here, to discuss and think about and then hopefully leave here.  The first is an anniversary.  In 2008 we bought this house.  It closed on May eighteenth.  My daughter Sally was born in July, so I was approximately eight years pregnant when we moved in.  I unpacked and organized the kitchen first, moving the plates, etc about a dozen times.  It truly, truly sucked.  Now, I love my house… rather, I love WHERE my house is.  Its a funky, old, poorly built house set on the point of a long, warbley triangle of land covered in evergreen trees and magic fairy ponds.  I  see green, lush foliage out of every window, and when I walk out back I hear rushing streams – two of them.  I love it here.

May eighteenth is also my older brother’s birthday.  Did you know that I have an older brother?  Well, I did, anyway.  Now all I have is a hole in my heart where he used to live.  Last year he created, lived in, and then routinely destroyed this place in my heart.  He did it like any dirt-bag man uses women, callously and with no care for anyone but himself.  To say that I am still hurt is an understatement, a silly conglomerate of words that lack the depth of my feelings.  I had thought for weeks about an appropriate (or rather, inappropriate) post to dedicate to him on his birthday, even coming up with the title.  Wanna hear it?  I’m going to screw up the apostrophe’s, so forgive me, but you’ll get the idea.  It was going to be called “NOT My Brother’s” Birthday.  And it was going to be about what a total and complete waste of space he is.  The more I thought about it the less I felt inclined to say, which sounds like a good thing but I am still so pissed off and hurt by him that I WANT to talk about it, to purge it from my system and close off that fucking hole he made.  I guess it’s not time for that yet.

Next lets talk about medication.  Many of you know that I suffered MAJOR post-partum depression after I had Sally, and continued after I had Bobby.  Well, it was time to go off of it, so I did.  I quit cold turkey.  Not the most fun thing I’ve done but it felt right, even when I was pretty certain that I was going to lose my mind and never return.  So I bought chickens instead.  No, I’m not kidding, and no, I didn’t REALLY get chickens to keep me from the brink of insanity.  I bought chickens because A) I want them; B) I have this aforementioned lovely patch of land, which includes a chicken coop, and C) because my family and I LOVE eggs.  Adore them.  I make about a half-dozen eggs a day, almost every day.  The real question is why it’s taken us so long to do this.  I bought five chicks, three Welsummers and two Buff Orpingtons.  They are currently living in a plastic tub in my ‘guest’ bedroom.  We’ll get a bigger ‘brooder’ box next week and they’ll begin living outside.  They’re so cute and they make the nicest little chirps when I come into the room.

I digress, though.  I felt horrible for about a month and REALLY terrible for another couple of weeks, but I’m doing great now.  If I could get some sleep, there’d be no stopping me!

Anyway, hopefully this will jump start my creative juices so I can start regaling you all with my hilarity and wit once again.  Tomorrow, I’ll post some pics at the very least.  Because oh my LORD child, the THINGS I have done with my hair…!!

Thanks for stopping by… ~xo, b!