Thursday, September 22nd 2022
War is hell and the fight is currently a slog
How did the Russians feel about mobilization?
I like the symbolism. There is a 35 km line of cars looking to get out of Russia and into Finland. We can juxtapose this against the 40 km convoy of military vehicles Russia was so proud to send into Ukraine.
It really is mind-boggling. Dealing with the official name calling, the laws against protesting, having people arrested in the street for wishing peace or even having to deal with the genuine truth of what the Russian troops have been doing with non-military victims. It is the most horrific objectification since Nazi Germany as far as I can see. It is the equivalent of the worst form of racism or genocidal extermination. And yet, there is a smiling face and asking people if they would be willing to give their lives for this project.
No thank you sir. I don’t want to participate in your War and honestly, I wish you would stop your War and remove your people from my life. I think I like my life better without you in it. I agree with Mr Zelinsky. I don’t really think I want to be a part of this nightmare.
***
It’s 5:30 a.m. and I think I’m okay. I don’t feel particularly weak or feverish in any way. I actually feel quite healthy. My leg on the other hand is a definite problem right now. I’m having the same sort of episode I had last year. This one I really rather disgusting eruption of some internal ball of pasta had been festering there. I cannot know simply by observation where this came from or how exactly it relates to the amount of pain I was experiencing.
I could be more specific but I’m leaving this vague because it’s a public thing and I’m not really interested in sharing all the gruesome details. One thing I do want to say and this is as discouraging a thing as could have possibly happened. The actual thing that I have been taking it easy for for the last 2 months was genuinely in the last days of healing. The wound, which at one time was really pretty gnarly is now almost completely healed. I check it all the time and I really was quite proud of myself. But then the other side of my leg simply exploded.
I thought it was a blister caused by simply too much time dragging my lame leg around trying to keep Ghenna at work. Just like last year, every time I push myself beyond my limit trying to get something done I end up paying for it. I think the truth is that I just don’t have the legs for these bloody hero calls anymore. I think I need an unlisted number.
Anyway, Tuesday night I noticed that I had a black blister appear. Just too much walking. The blister had a hole in it and I thought it was just a skin thing gone bad. Yesterday, after I finally got finished with everything, I went to take a look at what was going on and the damn thing just exploded on me. I was kind of prepared for the mess and did my own emergency room stuff. I keep sterile bandages and antiseptic. I told you, I’m a good doctor and I’ve been dealing with this bullshit for more than a decade. But I really was not in the least bit happy at watching this unfortunate little gusher.
I’ve learned from doctors how to deal with these things. I’ve watched them do raps and rewraps of my legs during similar complications. I’m not saying what anybody else should do, I’m just saying I made a value judgment and did what I needed to do not to die. I cleaned everything up, poured a bunch of antiseptic on some bandages and stuffed the whole and wrapped everything. It leaked a little bit during the night but I have no pain, no fever and like I said, I guess I’m just going to have to deal with life the best I can.
I tell you though, I was talking with my ex partner about this hands-free crutch. We’ve put in the order and it should be here somewhere between tomorrow and Sunday. But it is completely obvious that I would not be in this mess if I had had this thing earlier. I was thinking about it a month ago but then my ex partner reminded me that we should have done it a year ago. Why didn’t we?
I’ll tell you why we didn’t. We couldn’t buy it. We couldn’t buy it because the manufacturer would not ship it to this country. I’m not saying that we automatically stop all of this nonsense with the medical bureau and their refusal to give me aid when things started to go bad earlier this year. But if I would have had an alternative, I probably would have saved quite a bit of abuse and pain to myself and still been able to function and take care of my business around here. Just saying. Sometimes the nuances of life get kind of achy when you consider it.
Oh yeah, this was also during a period of time when my life savings was not available to me because of War restrictions. My staying here to be the recipient of all of this delightful blackmail and physical torture also has to do with my financial situation and some thievery on the part of some Americans. All of this is part of the epic beauty of this gruesome little landscape.
But this is all just conjecture. I just want to tell you that there is no reaction possible to any film that is equal to the delight of looking at a genuine bit of pure disgusting human Gore coming from your own body. I’m afraid I just can’t unsee this. My only saving grace is that I’m vegan because seriously, I don’t know how anybody can go eat flesh after looking at what I got to look like last night. I promise you, watching that pus drain did not in any way shape or form make me hungry.
I am pretty hungry now though. I know it’s kind of weird but I think that little explosion took most of the infection with it. The leg is obviously still swollen a bit but much less than before. So I guess I should be glad to get that stuff out of my body. One way or the other, either surgically or by patience, this thing’s going to get better before the end of the year. I’m just not quite ready to talk to doctors yet.
As for today, the ex-partner is due to come up. She’s making a point of making a visit on a bit of free time she has. I know she is very worried about me, thank you very much. I have no idea what to expect of Ghenna but I have received his promise for maybe the 4th or fifth time that he brings a load of straw for us. As I mentioned yesterday, he obviously sees this as a potential to get released as a worker cutting off his money flow. It turns out that I’ve turned the drunken bastard into a capitalist. Where before, he was just a hopeless beggar, now he’s leveraging me for more days of work, a disgusting combination of obsequiousness and cunning. I like him best when he’s just doing his job. I really, really, really get tired of the constant emotional twisting.
But if all of this is not enough drama, right in the middle of my ex-partner’s visit, I get to take a break and do the big English lesson with my new student. Today’s the day where we learn if there is character or not. I’ve been here a hundred times. There’s nothing better than understanding you’re with a worker and nothing more heartbreaking to get stuck again as a babysitter. When the student doesn’t want to work, when you understand that they’re on some alternative plane of existence, when there is no logical relationship towards a positive goal but instead just some weird emotions and status thinking, the light goes out of everybody’s eyes. It goes out of mine and when the parasites notice this, it goes out of theirs. Pretty similar to Ghenna really.
Just as a side note, I’ve been thinking so much about people who play this “I’ve been insulted” game. I am one of these people but I don’t think I approach it the way most people do. I could give a hundred examples of this but what turns people off mostly is when they notice that people don’t like them. Either that they’re just disinterested in them or basically that they are not going to be delivered their allotment of energy and attention. I don’t know if I’m saying this clearly but they just don’t like being snubbed.
Now, I am also mercurial about being snubbed but I don’t do it for pure social reasons. I want to make this clear here. When thinking about this status business and how everybody needs to feel they are on some sort of higher level, not having their status appeased is usually enough of a snub to start a war. Certainly this has something to do with the genocide and war crimes in Ukraine. Someone forgot to lick a boot and the Russians got offended.
I think my version of this comes from genuinely practical moments of understanding. When I try to speak honestly with someone and they answer me with gibberish, I snub them. When someone is bothering me for my attention with no genuine purpose for our interaction but yet has no reason for bothering me, I am a snubaholic. And, business-wise this is a gigantic failure, when non-students come to me for English lessons but refuse to take on the responsibility for the work that needs to get done in order to have a positive result, indeed the snubbing starts when the lights in my eyes go out. When it’s hopeless, it’s hopeless and no amount of egotism or belief in my own magical and mystical powers is going to change things. If they ain’t going to do the job, don’t give it to them.
Listen, I’m not genuinely putting a bunch of pressure on a young boy. There’s no pressure. These lessons have the potential to put him at the top of his class in English, a subject way, way, way out of fashion in the State academic world. Politically speaking, it’s almost an act of opposition.
Also, having spent some time with the boy, I pretty much already know the answer to the question. Or even worse, having spent time with such children for 20 years now and seeing the change in local people since the inclusion of cheap mobile phones into their hands and Russians into our lives because of Ukraine, I would say that my warning to his father about what happens when the honeymoon ends should have been taken more seriously.
Look, I’m not here to steal anybody’s money. I’m sure I can be of some influence. But if you’re talking about a human being deciding to do something rather abstract for their lives, nobody in the course of any day is going to talk to him in English as anything other than a stunt, and to put vigorous conscious energy into this project, we’re just not talking about that many people.
Perhaps the difference between dogs and people is an understanding of the future. But technically, I believe Russian is considered a futureless language.
Languages can either be “futureless” or “futured,” he explains. When speaking a futureless language, the way you express the future is similar to how you would express the present; the opposite holds true for futured languages, in which the future is expressed distinctly from the present.
Russian is actually kind of an interesting language in terms of how it presents the future because instead of focusing on the subject and its responsibility for an action, it focuses first on the completeness of the verb. It’s not really so important who does the work as much as whether the work is finished or not. A specific lack of responsibility is kind of built into the language as is an understanding that work needs to be done. And if you’re lazy, unfinished work sucks and you want to get to the finish as quickly as possible so there’s no more responsibility.
If he is a worker, he will do at least a decent job of translating this incredibly simple children’s book. If he is going to be a student for me, he will know this book and care about it. If he refuses to pay attention to the book in any way, he’s just bullshitting.
Most people who get into it think the book is pretty damn charming. If you want to know, it is Shel Silverstein’s The Giving Tree. Just a hothouse for cool ideas to be considered if you have the capacity to understand the words. And if you don’t, perhaps diving into a dictionary to get a little closer to what’s going on might inspire some interest in the book. These are best case scenarios. And hey, let’s go all the way to Everest on this one. What if he actually wants to talk about the book? What if he actually wants to ask or answer philosophical questions regarding the material?
Anyway, just like with the children’s book or any literature in one of my classes, we can pause right here and think about what’s going to happen in today’s lesson and what it means. Or, like a rather decent percentage of my students would say, you can just passively sit around and I’ll tell you what happened. For some, it’s easier just to shut up and say let’s consume more without really thinking about it.
I kind of feel like I’m getting lost in this subject. I don’t know if I’ve made my point or not. I don’t really believe anything good is going to happen. It would be nice if it did.
But maybe this last metaphor is why I am really so tired and jaundiced of this game. It is about mindlessly consuming rather than enjoying and engaging the material that we use along the way to enhance our English. To become a good speaker, you kind of need to be able to speak about things. In order to be a good critical thinker, you have to be willing to have a look at the details. But if all you want to do is make excuses for failure or just sit through your time passively because you think you’re supposed to do it and not because you want to, I’m going to snub you.
I can also be vindictive. I can also lose interest in people. I can be offended. But this is what offends me. It’s not a lack of attention to me, it’s a lack of attention paid towards our jobs. If you really want to get better at English, you make it your job. You make it something that is crucial to do correctly and that is costly if you make mistakes. If you don’t do the work as if it is meaningful, it isn’t.
You know, I’m sitting here with a foot outside trying to make sense of something I could have said in 25 words. Either the kid did some homework and understands the book and is ready to keep growing or he’s going to bullshit me.
Finally, somewhere today I am going to read some Torah. I’m pretty cynical about this already. But I’ll tell you something interesting. When you know you’re going to study Torah, even point blank realism juxtaposed against ecology and common Sense rather than worship towards the Almighty, it still becomes a meditation. And indeed, there is always something to park the imagination that comes from the text. Even if it’s only yet another reminder of how the horrors of civilization started, at least you get that.
I don’t really spend a lot of time editing these rants. It seems this year that what basically happens is that I dive into the philosophical pool first thing in the morning and then I start moving and deal with my day. What makes today most interesting is that I probably should be in the hospital. Yesterday, I did my best to flop around but still, I was being active. I should not be active right now. I should not be doing anything. That definitely makes things a little weird.
Look, let’s just get the fucking straw delivered. Let’s get the straw delivered and then we can start thinking about what to do about this foot. Let’s just get through the next week or so and let’s see what happens. Maybe if I can just get through nine more days, if I can just get through September without the necessity of an emergency call, maybe we’ll call it quits.
I mean, my ex partner invited me to come stay at her flat for a few days. Even that is starting to look like a pretty decent invitation.
Blyad.
***
It’s 10:30 and I’m out in the kitchen feeling pretty good. I did a rewrap this morning and cleaned out the wound and irrigated it with anesthetic. It looks a little bit more stable. It looks like I did something correct yesterday. It was still a little leaky but I cleaned it out and then redressed it as I understand to be proper and then wrapped it all up.
I don’t feel too horrible. I don’t feel perfect but I feel generally healthy and though it’s kind of a case of locking the Barn door after the cattle have gotten out, a horrible metaphor for a vegan, if it means anything the swelling has significantly gone down on my leg. This is an obvious thing. If whatever was going on in there is gone, the use for all of that rich white blood cell fluid has lessened and things are somewhat stabilized.
I’ve got the gate open and I’ve put in a call to Ghenna. I told him to hold off on any new posts for the time being but to please bring along the straw. That’s the main thing. If he wants to be active today, I’ll go for it. I’ve got a few things that he can do. I hope he doesn’t mind that I have no intentions whatsoever of following him around. I think I’m good to go right here in the kitchen. When my neighbors are not poisoning the room with their cars, this is my best inside outside place.
I feel better. Having taken a look at the situation this morning and giving myself a decent rewrap, I feel confident that I’m not going to die today or go into deep septic shock. I feel I can handle my situation for at least a little longer.
Honestly though, I’m feeling a little obsessive about this Garden. Honestly, it’s not really the feeling I had when I conceived this picture. My reality is actually potentially better than my original view but I don’t really have the love in my soul that I had when the vision came to me. I really was thrilled with the possibility of being here but time has proven that the people here, though a few of them are kind enough to be friendly at least in their exploitation, I find most of it simply steals my attention where I actually want my attention to be. They are all like constant wailing babies demanding their tit. An endless horizon of squeaky Wheels demanding to be greased. It’s beyond annoying.
Nature doesn’t beg. Nature simply reacts and tries to live. Nature can be obsessive and rambunctious when it’s healthy. Nature is brutal in its demand to be. But it doesn’t beg. Perhaps it asks quietly, quietly as prayer but it never grovels. It never crawls to you in supplication. It knows the truth that I am the annoyance or at least something that must be accepted.
I am an absolutely clumsy animal. I am a ridiculous and hateful thing. The amount of resources I require simply for my egotism or astounding to Nature. To even attempt to live as I am would be death. I am no longer suitable for the natural world. I have become an insane, hateful, murderous and poisonous thing. I am a creature who kills his own family. I am cannibalistic. I am obsessed with color and allow my egotism to press myself higher based upon my own color. This color blindness is an obsession, a murderous mania.
I really just wanted to sit and admire nature. I really don’t have very much of a desire to be forced to observe alcoholics. I really don’t have much of a need for people to spread their diseases to me. I really am not interested in human intrigues. I’m really not looking for new high school friends to help pass my time. I’m really not interested in people screaming directly into my face and hurting my ears with their loud voices. I really don’t need people using me for stepping stones or as an object to raise their own status. I’m not in any need of listening to them do public masturbations with internal combustion engine machines. I really don’t need my ears or my eyes or my nose offended. I really don’t need to do medical analyzes of people and wonder how on Earth they’ve come to poison themselves so. I don’t need to understand the extent of their heart disease or the inevitability of lung cancer or to compute the odds of stroke. I don’t really need to see the developmental disabilities they have given their children or their drug addictions or their psychological imbalances. I really don’t need to stare at the insanity of others. I’m not lonely for it. I don’t ache for it if it’s not around. I don’t feel bad if my friends refrain from harming me or showing me how crazy they are. I’m okay with email to be honest.
You know it is really foolish to sit in the grass and watch some variety of insect crawling across a blade of grass. You can get to know them. They have personalities. They have certain dietary habits but the way they live makes some act a certain way. Certain bugs are absolutely annoying. I hate flies. Flies make life miserable and I can’t stand listening to people who think flies are wonderful. But to be honest, other than perhaps mosquitoes or ants, I don’t really mind garden insects at all. The herbivorous insects are just fine and we get along great. I don’t even mind when they get into the vegetation a little bit.
Nature is quiet. Nature takes its time. Nature has sweet breezes. Nature has light rains. Nature has moments of succulence and moments where everything is constantly wet. Nature is cold and silent sometimes.
Most of all, nature is peace. Nature is tranquility. Nothing grows from aggression. Nothing grows from destruction. All of these bloody awful noises we make with our horrific machines have any place on this planet. What we do is not meant to be here. We are a mistake. We are a Cancer. We are probably hated with more passion than any human hatred for any overbearing government or cruel bureaucrat or sycophant drug addict relative. Any living thing with any sense of consciousness surely hates people.
We are The unwanted occupiers. We are the people who shouldn’t be here. We are the fucking Russians. We are that species who inflicts itself unwantedly on others without regard or respect for life in any way.
Yeah man, I really was in quite the mood when I had this vision of doing some light gardening and planting some trees and berry bushes. The idea for the garden boxes in the dry spots was mine out of my enthusiasm from having some mobility this spring. I guess that was what they call a false spring. Maybe next year I’ll get my fresh start. A little gardening, little bicycling. If you don’t mind, I’m editing my neighbors and their cars and their weed wackers and their poisons and their greed. I hope you don’t mind but I like my dreams a lot better when there aren’t a lot of people in there. In fact, I like my dreams best when there’s only one or two people that I really, really want to be spending time with in the picture.
***
Zelinski here is making his point to the United Nations. Basically, the Russians are villains. It’s too bad they have embedded themselves in the oil business. The world would probably be a much better place had that not been the case.
Meanwhile back in Russia, it seems that you are not allowed to protest the mobilization. If you try to argue, you get arrested.
***
This week’s Torah portion is called Nitzavim (נִצָּבִ֤ים). The word means standing or standing before and is from the sentence that says that today, you are all standing before the Lord.
This portion is a continuation of the speech or the instructions to the children of Israel before they get to take possession of the land of milk and honey. The first portion tells them that these instructions will make them holy, the second tells them that following these instructions will bless the land and then of course, it explains the horrible curse that will be for them if and when they fail. Just like me as an English teacher, everybody knew the law where people fall to the level of their incompetence. Or, if you’re looking for decent religious Jews, but people were going to screw things up given the chance.
Even as I say these words, my kitchen smells like cigarette smoke, I can feel the alcoholism in my belly and we still don’t have any fucking straw. Everyone in the world should know by now that no matter how much you expect good things, all you’re going to get is alcoholic compromises. Ask the ukrainians if I’m right. I’m quite sure they will agree.
Specifically the third portion says that the land will be cursed and nothing will grow. If you don’t follow in the way, there won’t be any milk and there won’t be any honey.
But then the 4th adds a note of Hope saying that if you return home, if you return to the way, you will be forgiven and the land will once again grow green.
You can look this up I think but there is a thing about what Israel has done agriculturally since 1948. Considering its location and considering its neighbors, it is kind of a miracle how green the place is. I only know this anecdotally. I tend to believe it as fact. I also believe really that the state was founded from agricultural-based communist refuse Nick and those wishing to escape the Soviet Union that did all this agricultural work. This particular brand of Jew returning home were land-minded practical ecologists and very good in the field. The keyboard system was really a series of self-maintained collective farms. This is the pragmatic and practical view of how they figured out ways to irrigate and fertilize the desert so that it might bloom.
There are some however who see this as prophecy fulfilled. 2,000 years with the Jews excluded, it was a desert. 70 years of self-management and, well, you get the idea. I mean, if it weren’t for their shitty neighbors, it would probably be paradise, wouldn’t it?
The last three portions are simply summation. A simple reminder that you either get the cheesecake or the slap in the face. You walk the correct road, there won’t be blisters. You start playing with fire, you get burned.
To this, I would say things are pretty practical. If in fact God equals nature and nature equals God, don’t shit in your own yard, and you don’t have scandals at home. Keep things clean and you don’t have ecological catastrophe. Don’t start listening to carpetbaggers tell you how to run your life and you don’t have a bunch of noise ruining your ears. Don’t put too much garbage in the air and you can probably take a nice clean breath.
I really don’t know how all this religion ties into Ghenna. I can’t seem to convince him that all I really care about at the moment is getting my straw and that he quit smoking cigarettes sitting on the bench right in front of me. Most of the misery in my life comes from the unhappiness of polluted air in the kitchen I cook my food in. I really wish he could take a hint.
Actually, I really wish I had my own fucking legs. I’m sure I made some mistakes along the way and this is the curse paying me back for it. I have a few hateful blackmailers who would probably be quick to say how I offended them and this is their payback. I think it has more to do with eating food I shouldn’t have eaten.
Enlightenment is not mysticism. Enlightenment comes from seriously paying attention to things and saying the truth. Enlightenment is not about forcing your mind into nothingness. It’s about forcing your mind into reality and asking and answering really good questions and doing your homework. The way is clear.
God is nature and nature is God and we are indeed made in the image of God because we are simply natural creatures. Go too far away from our true animal nature, and this is especially true for diet and things get pretty sketchy.
We are herbivorous apes. You have the potential for a reason and have the ability to know the future. If nothing else all of these warnings about what will happen illustrate the possibility of a human being understanding the future. I think that means when you try to live for today, you’re going to pay for it tomorrow.
Lose sustainably. Eat vegan. Be kind to people. Good rules.
I don’t know. Read the word and know the truth and if I said it and you heard it I did my job.
***
You know, I’m not a perfect person. I’ve never been a perfect person. Supposedly, I have a reputation as a violent person. I do not think this is true. I have never picked a fight in my life.
I’ve been called a chronic complainer. I absolutely don’t think that that’s true either. I don’t walk around looking at the negativities. Actually I don’t walk around.
What I am or better what I am not is a drunken sugar freak. This is the only thing that I am not in this world. I don’t drink alcohol and I don’t include sugar as a part of my diet. I don’t eat factory foods with the little addictive extra. Consequently, I don’t really crave treats. I don’t live my life for presents. I don’t go on adventures for the thrill. I’m not living on a roller coaster. I’m not looking for more noise or more volume or more strength or more brutality.
What I am, what I have always been from the moment I found myself an independent person is a worker. Perhaps you could say I’m a survivor but I don’t really like that. I just work out my problems and take care of myself. I believe in self-sufficiency. I like self-sufficient people. I like people that handle their own problems. I’m a worker. I’m not a slave. But I’m a worker. I do my homework.
But if it comes down to whether or not I have a temper, yeah, I don’t like being annoyed. I don’t like annoying people hanging around me and begging me for my fucking attention. I can’t stand people who think sitting there and making drama is necessary and I can’t stand people who believe that the act of existence is somehow enough to create bonds between us that lead to a glorious road of money flowing to them. I cannot tolerate extended company with parasites. I cannot stand people who don’t understand that they should mind their own business.
So the man showed up without the horse cart. I got up and made my way out to unlock the gate for the single purpose that he could come by, take the key, open the rear gate and drive his horse next to the barn and drop a load of straw. Other than this, I did not have to get out of bed today and I could have just left my foot to rest and I didn’t need to put myself through any God damn thing with a fucking bullet hole in my leg to contend with.
So while he is sitting here smoking cigarettes on the bench and having the smoke flow into my kitchen and acting as if everything I suggest to him is the most outstanding bit of consternation for him to figure out, he doesn’t get the point that he should fuck off and come back with the load of straw and then find out if my ex partner needs any goddamn help.
There was one nice thing about this. I’m having a hard time going up and down my front steps. This is also where I keep firewood local. I asked him if he could bring me a couple of loads of wood. I found this morning that I could get my knee on the woodpile and use it as a brace to get down the stairs. He didn’t understand me when I told him that I just needed a couple of more loads of wood. He decided to rebuild the wood pile to show me what an artist he was. I have no idea if what he did is better or worse than before but, okay, thank you for that.
But then when he started letting me know that he wanted to be useful but didn’t get the point that we’re on a schedule, my ex partner is on the way and I want our materials in the place so she has access to everything she needs for her day. This information never wanted to go into his head. And the more he picked and picked, the less I could take.
I yelled at him and he went off. Thank God.
I snapped, I couldn’t take it anymore and read him the entire list of times he had told me that we were getting our material but didn’t. I told him that I really wanted those holes dug for the trees before she got here but he didn’t do that either. Pretty much every single significant and genuine job that needed to be done on time had failed in place of all this bullshit nitpicky work that he keeps making just to keep a flow of money.
I was still talking when he got on his bicycle and rode away.
As of the moment, my ex partner is here. We do not have straw but there is potential that straw is coming. There is potential that straw is coming and this potential is possibly greater than the potential that it was coming two weeks ago, last Sunday, everyday this week and everyday I have been alive during the process since I paid for the motherfucking straw.
He’s gone, she’s here. I’m sure the world is going to get better.
***
Don’t even think about it. Don’t think about it even for one minute. The kid did his homework. Therefore, it was a fine class.
***
It’s 5:30 in the afternoon and I’m sitting on the bench watching the Sun thinking about the possibility of descending into the horizon and my ex partner dropping the pear tree into its new home along the canal just above the end of the mid gardens. Pear trees grow very tall. Eventually, because she is sitting next to a birch tree, beroza in Russian, it really might be quite a feature.
The boxes that we have finished with, there are five of them so far, are already fertilized and raked. There are eight more boxes where things are still growing. How wet it’s been the last few days has brought new life into those things and what’s in there actually looks good as food for a change. The well is full of water. The new orchard looks fantastic and well-organized over the lower gardens. It’s no longer a bean Garden. We might toss some things in there while the trees are young but basically what that place is going to be can already be seen.
The original run of trees had a hard year. I don’t think we gave them enough to eat, we didn’t protect the ground around them from the heat, there wasn’t enough water. They lived but I don’t really see that they thrived too much. One had a good year but it grew in a place where there was a lot of fertilizer on the ground nearby and the land around it was covered by horseradish plants. It’s a lesson to be learned.
We’re going to come to a plan about those grapes. It might not be now. It might be something we do in the springtime. We have so many grape plants. If they grow and thrive and mature it’s going to be a ridiculous amount. We could take care of them as if we have a small vineyard and prune them and give them a lot of space between the plants. Or maybe we replant a few of them to exist around a structure it can overwhelm. I guess this is kind of like a grapevine gazebo that would give me a nice piece of shade to sit in and read a book or to have a nice meal during the summer. Maybe a writing table would be nice.
During my lesson, my ex partner brought me a cup of tea. It was my first cup of tea in a long time. But the freshness was fantastic and I knew what it was with the first sip. It was our mint fresh cut from the garden.
My tendency is to say something bad. My thoughts are turning to bad things and people that shouldn’t be there. I’m sure this is what happens to everybody really. I think we all have a moment where we sigh and say “yeah, but…”. I just don’t feel like dwelling on that stuff if I don’t have to. I know it’s there like death just over the warrior’s shoulder. But if I don’t dwell on it too hard and I don’t let it take specific form or shape, maybe how Sweet the moment is will come back and I can go back to focusing on that.
It really is nice here right now. Watching the grass hello in the breeze. Just a nose full of sweet fresh air.
I think I’m just going to blend in and surrender to this moment. I think I’m just going to let the world talk to me a little bit quietly. I think I’m going to turn off the noise and listen to nature for a second. She always has the sweetest voice of all. Truthfully, the only noise I ever really want to hear.
***
Okay, it’s about 7:15 and everything is locked up. I’ve got a fire going here in the warm room and everything seems to be in order. Still no straw but I must say that I am as happy today with the garden as I have been in a long time. My ex partner feels the same way. You could see it in her face. It is an amazing layout and we both have genuine optimism for a much better year next year than this one.
I did the accounting on Ghenna. I told you I can be mercurial. Probably I didn’t have to. “Let’s settle up” is something that I end up saying more times than I should. I lose tolerance. I can only be eaten so much before I just can’t do this anymore. I’m sure I rub people the wrong way as well. I’m sure I managed to burn Bridges I probably shouldn’t have. My philosophy is that we’ll all just live with it. Everybody can be replaced, even me. Especially me. Like I said, I’m just a guy. No more, no less.
It’s a pretty weird ledger because of the amount of money he was paid for things that he has never accomplished. The original deal which came in a moment of genuine trust that he was going to do a job for me led me to send a particular amount of money through the ethernet and directly into his account. Upon receipt of this money, he quickly drank away anything that seemed to be a part of his trustworthiness. A week later, on another Tuesday ironically enough, he had his ambition back and we had another good day. Unfortunately, I bought into some of his proposals and agreed to some materials which had not earlier been a part of what we do. I paid in advance. Again, he drank the enthusiasm away.
But then we got to crunch time with the fertilizer and the damn straw. There were people coming to do things and we needed these materials on site and in order. Yeah, sure, let’s just keep fist bumping like a couple of Street alcoholic fagots and not really do anything that needs to get done. As it turned out, of the actual tasks that I needed him to do, that I called him for and that I wished to have completed, we barely got the correct amount of fertilizer and he ended up doing the digging of 10 of the 22 holes that we needed for the new trees and bushes. He did participate in planting three grape Vines. My ex partner was not happy to learn that he had done this. But he had not made her life any easier last Sunday and she was obligated to dig that hole for the pear tree. Truthfully, I don’t think she minded one bit.
The crazy thing is if I balance out everything that I actually paid for including his own propositions that I should agree to and balance out how much he has actually done of the necessary work, I still don’t have a new bench and the well still doesn’t have a new roof or roller system but as of the moment, we are even Steven. It’s crazy how it works out. Just from the work that he ended up doing that I asked him to do along the way seems to have covered all the money I laid out for everything. If he actually continues working here, I’d be obligated to pay him more money.
The point is that I’m really getting sick of the man’s company. I’m getting sick of the man’s smell. I’m getting sick of his diseases being around me and the mother fucking fist bumps and the constant pressing for emotional encouragement. I mean how old is this guy? What level of fagotry do I have to imitate in order to get this son of a bitch to show up? I’m not his handler and I’m tired of this bloody game. I don’t like being with him. I don’t like what he feels like or smells like or sounds like. I’m tired of having to put my attention on him. I’m tired of having him around. Too many failures and too much sickness.
Look, I had a friend from town that was actually pretty important to me. It was also a bit of a working relationship. He wasn’t paying for my services, I was paying for his. But he also required way more attention than I normally give anybody. And when I got tired generally of having to give all this extra motivation and just asked him to do his job already, he flipped on me and threw me under the bus. Just like that.
I’m sorry, I’m just not really a people pleaser. I understand that if I have a student, it’s my job to kind of get where we are going. But I tell everybody, I tell EVERYBODY that my job is not to be a bloody motivator! Just do your homework.
This kid today is a kid. He’s really a kid. And to send a text reminding him that doing the work is an important thing is an important thing. Calling his dad and saying that we are at a special moment and that he should chime in and put a hand on the boy’s shoulder is also an important thing. Hell, I can even put a ton of enthusiasm in my voice and show him what it means to read something as if you mean it. But it’s not really the love of my life. The love of my life as a teacher is seeing my students learn to take care of themselves.
You know, I’m going back and forth with my ex partner right now while I’m writing these words. She’s reminding me to take antibiotics. She’s in full on mother hen mode. Every time it looks like my health is going to fail, she becomes super Mom. It’s lovely having someone have these emotions and be willing to do this for me. I must have done something right over the last few years to be receiving this. But it is frankly annoying as hell. I don’t really give a shit what is culturally appropriate for the region. I really am someone who takes care of himself and respects others who do the same. I mind my own business and I don’t really care what other people do. I guess I’ve said that enough already.
If it means anything though, I certainly do have my own share of drama. I didn’t need to put any extra anything on any of this. Between my leg failures and the colorful lot of glad-handers I have picking up the slack, getting this garden done really was something. Yeah, we finally have the garden planted for next year. What a crazy ride.
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