Secret Agent Peanut

Fear is with us forever, Honey. We come into the world fearing life and leave the world fearing death. It is part and parcel of what makes us human... without vulnerability what would we be? Evil, is my guess.

Guilt, on the other hand, is a learned behavior. Guilt is the end product of shaming... someone taught you guilt and you've learned it really, really well. Shaming is something one person uses to control another person. If a person is shamed enough, they learn that they are unworthy and then the monster lives within and viola... guilt.

You will never be without fear, but all fear is manageable. Sometimes it can be reasoned with, sometimes it can be ignored, sometimes we just need to feel the fear and do it anyway.

Guilt needs to go die in a fire.

You DO enough. You HAVE enough. You ARE enough. And you are LOVED.

I woke up to this on my phone, from my father:


I'm flying tonight to Seattle to see my mom on Saturday. Aileen called me to let me know that our mom ended up in the hospital again with a CDIF infection, the same kind that put her in the hospital previously with a "say goodbye" appeal that, of course, was premature. She is being treated for the infection, and is now been moved to a hospice, as she kept saying in the hospital that she wanted to die, ripped out her IV, and got out of bed in the middle of the night so had to be corralled. She is suffering from dehydration and renal failure, and is not longer able to live in assisted living, and not even a nursing home. I'm going to say goodbye to her, and get together with Aileen. My brother is coming out on Saturday afternoon. I have to be back for Sunday, and my plane leaves at 3 PM, so I don't think I'll see him before I have to go. My mom has, of course, been asking to see you and Hilary before she goes, but I know this might not be possible for you and John. It isn't for Hilary, and she feels badly about it. You do what you feel comfortable about; give me a call on my cell on Saturday morning for the latest info. My cell is 360-485-3296. Love you.

--Dad

*******************

Awesome. This is probably because yesterday I said this week couldn't get shittier.

I lifted weights this morning, a light set, and then ran 3.2 miles on the treadmill, the distance of a 5k. Granted, it was a treadmill, and granted, it took me 39 minutes, but this is my new starting point. I am competing against myself, against that voice in my head that tells me fat girls can't run marathons, against that sabatoeur in my brainpan that tells me this isn't doing any good because I have not yet lost a single pound even though I am weighing and measuring all my food and writing down everything I take into my body and meticulously tracking my daily points.

I haven't lost a single pound. Not one. It is really, really discouraging.

But, I have eaten 3 vegan meals this week, no meat since the bacon I had last Sunday (which, according to Kat isn't a meat, it's a miracle) and been to the gym every weekday for two weeks straight.

I am living better than I was 2 weeks ago.

Next week's goal is to do the same time on a 5k on a slight incline. Fridays will be the 5k treadmill run each week.

I am going to kick the shit out of that little voice in my head, and get healthy, and goddamn what my scale says.

Keep telling yourself that, Steph.

Off to work for me.

John and I made this chili last night, and I am totally in love with it. I cannot say enough how impressed I was. We found the recipe on the website www.fatfreevegan.com that Katy pointed out to me. (By the way, Katy, I cannot gush enough about this website. It got me excited about cooking food again, something I haven't really had since we started struggling with Weight Watchers.)

So, we took the recipe and modified it a bit. Here's what we did:

1 medium onion(s) coarsely chopped
1 medium green pepper(s) diced
2 clove(s) garlic clove(s) minced (we used a garlic press.. perfect!)
1 cup(s) cooked pinto beans (basically, a small can)
1 cup(s) canned great Northern beans (same as above)
1 cup(s) canned kidney beans (yup, you guessed it, same as above)
29 oz canned stewed tomatoes (we got the cheapo diced Fred Meyer no sugar added kind)
2 tsp chili powder (we didn't have this so we used some of John's fancy schmancy chipotle)
1 tsp ground cumin
1 cup(s) frozen corn kernels (we used a can of whole corn kernels, canned with no sugar added)
1 1/2 cup(s) zucchini, diced in medium cubes
1/2 tsp table salt

In a large pan, sautee the onion, green peppers, and garlic for a few minutes, until the onions start turning translucent and the garlic is lightly browned. Add all the beans, tomatoes, and spices, and bring that sucker to a boil. Once it's boiling, reduce the heat and let it simmer for about 10 minutes. Add the corn and zucchini, and cook for another 7 minutes or so, until the zucchini is tender but not mushy.

Adding the different kinds of beans brought the serving size up to 11 servings, 1 cup in size. The best part? At 11 servings, WW.com says this chili is ONE POINT a cup!

Then I made some cornbread biscuits. I modified my momma's cornbread recipe to make it more friendly to ww

4 tsp baking powder
1 cup(s) uncooked yellow cornmeal
1 cup(s) fat-free skim milk
1/3 cup(s) sugar
3/4 tsp table salt
2 item(s) egg
1/2 cup(s) all-purpose flour
1/2 cup(s) whole wheat flour
1/4 cup(s) I Can't Believe It's Not Butter! Mediterranean blend light

(I used Splenda, but it didn't end up changing the point value of the finished cornbread, so go ahead and use sugar if you wanna)

Mix flour, baking powder, sugar, and salt. stir in the cornmeal. in a separate bowl, mix the eggs and milk together. cut the "butter" into the dry ingredients, until small crumblike consistency is reached. stir in the milk and egg mixture until all dry ingredients are moistened. Don't overstir, this is supposed to be really lumpy looking. pour into greased 9x9 square pan or into 14 small muffin tins. (I have some silicone muffin cups that Teri bought me a while ago, they worked perfectly!) bake for 20 to 25 minutes at 425 degrees. Cornbread is done when it is slightly golden on top,. The WW website says that if you use sugar and not splenda to bake, you HAVE to make 14 muffins out of this for them to be 2 points a piece. If you change the 1/3 cup sugar to splenda instead, you can make 12 slightly bigger muffins and still have them be 2 points each. I used splenda and baked 14, and they tasted totally delicious.

So, for dinner last night, I had 16 points left.

I had:
2 Cups chili in a huge bowl: 2 points
1 oz of grated cheddar cheese: 1 point
2 cornbread muffins: 4 points.

My entire dinner was only 7 points! And I was SO freakin' full!

I am totally making this on a weekly basis. John and I figured out with 1 cup serving sizes, after looking at our store reciept, each cup ended up costing us only 55 cents! Seriously!

Some days feel so heavy and oppressive that I can't get out from under them, can't move through that fog, can't grasp the hope I know lingers still from the last good time.

Today is like that.

I am trying to change it, doing things that are good for me or settle my brain, but sometimes...

I'm just so tired of this fight.

I am so fucking full of hate right now that I think I feel it leaking out of my pores, my ears, my mouth, the roots of my hair.

I am tired of not getting a say, of being relegated to the back burner, of not being considered.

I shouldn't have to look into getting a fucking hotel room so I can get some goddamn sleep, and if I tell my husband I am sick, I do not want to have to tell him several times, at a quarter past midnight, exactly why I'd really like it if all his stupid D&D shit was over so I could go to bed and actually get some rest.

I wanted to go to sleep early. He made that impossible.

I am so fucking goddamn angry.

I felt this coming on all day. I am horribly depressed, for no real reason I can pinpoint. My chest hurts and I want to cry, and don't have a significant trigger for said emotions. I'm just.... really blue. I have reminded myself that life isn't bad, that I have things to be thankful for, and people who love me. I know these things to be true, they aren't just trite reassurances.

And yet, I can't shake this weight on my chest.

I hate when I get like this, and hate that I can't seem to make it better through will or action. I want to avoid everything, everyone, every outside influence. I want to curl up with a book and ignore the world tomorrow, and I can't. I have grownup responsibilities. I will do them, I will go to my jobs and walk through my interactions, and I will come home and hide once the day is over.

Sometimes when I am like this I wonder if I'm fit for the things I want most, like motherhood, like being a teacher, like crafting my own destiny. A mother can't afford to sit around like someone is crushing her chest with a rock with NO LOGICAL REASON to feel that way. A teacher needs to be present for her students and involved and interactive. If I were to own my own business, or be responsible for my own studies, would I be able to overcome this? Or would I let my kids starve for attention, my students lose interest and guidance, or my own responsibilities to my future slide irreparpirably?

I just don't know. And tonight, I feel like I'd do all 3, because I can't get out of this dark place.

Today is one of those days already and it is only 7:30, so that doesn't bode well.

John and I fought for hours straight yesterday, punctuated by me taking Noel and Bigby swimming at insanely crowded Lake Whatcom at 8 or so. I had to cancel plans that I not only was embarrassed to have to postpone, but felt personally responsible for his bad attitude and shitty behavior, even though I logically knew it wasn't my fault.

We fought until about 1, when he went to bed and I tried to sleep on the couch, because in the heat he is impossible to sleep next to. I was drifiting off when a loud noise came from our laundry room and I found Dexter in front of the closed door with his hair up, barking. I looked in and realized John had left the second back door, the one that goes outside, open, and there was some kind of animal in there. So. I had a riled up Dexter, and I was scared to go chase the whatever it was out by myself because I was in my underwear, so I went and woke John to deal with it. He stumbled out and helped, but by the time he got there, with all 3 dogs barking and jumping and running around, the whatevritwas (I think it might have been a possum) was gone and there was trash on the ground from either our compost or our trashcan, I couldn't tell which. I tried to lay back down on the couch, but Dex wouldn't stop growling at every noise and Bigby couldn't decide if he wanted to sleep on the bed or couch, so it went like this:

Drift off, start to sleep
Dexter barks and stands alert by front door
"Dexter, knock it off! Go lay down."
John snorts or snores and flips over, which wakes Bigby and Noel
Bigby comes running out and jumps on me
"Bigby, laydown dammit!"
Bigby lays down, drift off, start to sleep.
Dexter hears a noise and barks, alert, by the door
Bigby wakes up and jumps off and goes to help the barking
"Dex, Biggs, knock it off! Laydown, dammit!"
Bigby goes to lay on John, who snores
I try to drift off
Bigby wakes up and come out to jump on me...
Etc, etc, ad nauseum.

I finally gave up at 3 and turned out the last light, closed the front door, and went to bed, where John assured me he set me an alarm.

He tossed and turned and sweated all damn night, and I didn't sleep.

He also didn't set an alarm.

I woke up at 7:10 when he hit me in the face with hsi elbow.

I realized I forgot to do something at work yesterday, raced to do it, and was too late, anyway, causing stress for others.

I felt nauseated and woozy, and after drinking more water, I promptly threw up.

I am supposed to be at work at the lab right this minute, but I can't get my stomach to settle down.

I need some actual sleep and a day where John and I DON'T fight.

Pipe dream.

I must bring it on myself. I say I'm happy or content, and it's almost instantaneous. KABOOM. Life explodey.

Figures.

So, I haven't been writing, and it's not because I don't have anything to say, but rather that every time I think I have something I want to say and then decide that I'm going to write it down, I get busy and don't end up with the time to get it taken care of.

So, a short blurb is that I am doing well, I'm pretty happy, and I'm really enjoying the summer. There are a lot of things going on that are not, strictly speaking, positive, but I think the hot weather and the interaction I've gotten to have with people I care about recently has blunted the majority of the non-positive aspects.

I had a great trip to Friday Harbor with Katy yesterday, and I was reminded as we sat in the bow of the boat with the breeze and the sun and the smell of the sea how lucky I am that I have sweet smiling lady friends to connect with, and wonderful in-laws who treat me better than my actual family, and what a gorgeous place I live in. The islands are lovely, the water was calming, and the time with family was much needed. I miss the Captain all summer long, so any time I get to see him it appreciated. I came home to my sweet and snuggly dogs and cat, my teddy bear of a husband, and the time to be alone for a while.

The heat is making my tomatoes explode, and the blackberries are slowly ripening. I can tell that in a couple of weeks, my backyard will be a solid wall of blackberries and that bodes well for jam making, cobbler, and pie, as well as picking time with some of my favorite ladies, if we can coordinate schedules. (Ahem, ladies, I'm sure you know who you are!)

School is rapidly approaching, and I'm kind of having a low level freakout because I don't know what is going to happen with my schedule yet, and that stresses me out. I want to have it set, so I can know what to expect, instead of this wishy washy waiting game I have to play until my adviser has time to schedule an appointment to review my credits, which means I have to wait until they get my transcript, which is supposed to happen some time this week, I have been told. Waiting waiting, always waiting.

I want to adventure, or take a long bike ride, or go running outside today. I want to make the time to incorporate those things in while the sun is here and this lovely, wonderful, fabulous hot weather is around. I cannot say enough how much I love the heat. I feel warm and energized, and even when I'm lethargic from too much sun, I'm blissed out on sunshine and warmth, and I know I am letting it soak into my bones to safeguard against the fall and winter that I know are lurking on the edge of my sweet sweet summer.

I still have a month left, and it is packed with baseball games, birthdays of my favorite people (John and Richie Poo both have August birthdays) and then comes my own birthday, and maybe a visit from Kat, and my wedding anniversary, and, and, and....

So, bring it, Summer. I'm ready. Hot weather makes working behind a counter miserable, but all other things divine, and I can't wait to put on my slip dress and bloomers and climb onto my bike tomorrow, even though I know that outfit doesn't look the best on me and even though I know it's kind of inappropriate for bike riding. I don't care. I want the breeze, the freedom, the feel of slinky fabric and the dew of sweat in humidity that I associate with sensual places like New Orleans and Atlanta, places where ladies sit in skirts and aprons in worn rocking chairs on creaking old porches, fanning themselves with the newspaper and drinking sweet tea with maybe a little touch of bourbon, o' lawdy.

So, I'm back from camping.

I am super crazy sunburnt, even though I used sunscreen (SPF 30, no less.) The "vacation" was beautiful, and crazy stressful. It was an amazing place, and I was glad to get the chance to spend time away from work with my family, who are people I love immensely and that I don't normally have time to chat with. However, John and I spent almost all of our time there apart, and we were not really getting along. The packing and the getting there, mixed with having to see John's dad (who I do not like,) made for a stressful first day, and drunk John made for a stressful first night. The next day was mostly reverberations from the first day, and the last day was packing up and miscommunication and having totally different ideas of what camp set up and take down entails. In fact, we didn't start getting along well until after we picked Dexter up from Trish's house, on the way home, and that was after a huge fight in the car where we didn't speak to each other from just before Oak Harbor until we pulled in to Anacortes, an almost 45 minute drive in silence. This was our first camping trip together, and it was really apparent to me that the way John's family camped and the way my family camped were drastically different, and we didn't really have a conversation about it before we left. This really disheartened me, mainly because in the 3 years we have been married and the almost 4 we have been together, this is really only the 2nd trip we have ever taken together, as all of our other vacations have been separate. I don't want that to be a continuing trend in our marriage, and when we have a planned bit of time away that I really look forward to, and it ends up like it did, it's kind of heartbreaking.

I kind of feel like I got cheated out of a "relaxing" vacation, and I need healing time from all the damage done during our couple of days away.

So today, I am not working at the lab or at the Drop. I am, instead, doing a lot of bill paying, errand running, dog washing, house cleaning, and then some book reading and Mexican food eating. There will also be batting cages, I think. (Hopefully, if we can get our shit done by the time we'd be going, anyway.) I am going to relax this evening and spend some time with John while we talk about what we can do better for our next vacation to go smoothly. We had a long talk yesterday when we were picking up the dog, and he made yesterday evening much better, even going to get me Hawaiian bread and a pasta salad full of kalamata olives and pita with garlic hummus. We had Katy over to watch Gray's Anatomy and drink citrus vodka and box wine, and we loaded her up with some stuff to make the rest of her summer easier before she left, including my little computer so she can be on the intarbutz, since I'm not currently using it.

I am so hungry that I might actually implode, so I should track down some food. I think I may need some arroz con pollo and a big hurkin' margarita.

A good adjective for how I feel about my loved ones is "fierce." I fiercely love people, when I love them. I am fierce in loyalty, pride, anger, and adoration, protective and wholehearted.

Listening to John's playlist in our truck today, I thought of just how hard his fight with his own dark side is, and it made me tear up. We talked a bit about it. He knows he is fiercely loved, and is working so hard at stability and progress. He is going back to school in the Fall, a huge step, and the thought of classes is consuming most of his spare brainpower. He is scared, I can tell, but is more willing to speak in terms of "long term" future planning than he has been since late last year, and it makes my heart swell.

Maybe I'm just overemotional today, though. At our breakfast date at old town, the guy playing guitar sung a beautiful rendition of "Into the Mystic" and when he hit "I wanna rock your gypsy soul" I got wet eyed and heart twangy. I walked over and put money in his jar and thanked him. He told me making that days of pretty ladies was what he loved best.

Off to the rest of my day.

I am not feeling good, my stomach is woozy and weird. I'm in a great mood, oddly, even though I don't feel good.

John is making me some dinner and got me something fizzy to drink. Then he's going to the store and getting (I think) some juice popsicles.

He's been alternately amazing and infuriating lately, and I flip flop between wanting to curl up around him and snuggle into his neck and throttle him. He needs a focus that is outside of his normal existance, and right now he doesn't have that, so he's very focused on me. It's a constant stream of "whatcha doin? Who ya' talkin' to? Whaddya' wanna do, huh? Huh?" and although I appreciate the attention sometimes I kust want to read my fuckin' book, yanno?

So tonight he is focused on grilling chipotle burgers for himself and Chase while I lounge and read and then there will be BSG and knitting.

I started out with a point but all I can think of now is how good pajamas will feel and how I want to get to the next chapter of my book.

So, I'm gonna go indulge it.

I am currently cooking a freezer-burned ham bone down to stock with some freezer-burned ham in the pot as well. In about a half hour, I'm going to go rinse the split peas and lentils I found in the back of a drawer, and throw them in with the boiling stock after straining it through a sieve to get all the bone pieces out and picking out the good ham bits. I'm gonna put on pajamas here in a minute, and put on the soundtrack to one of my favorite musicals, and I'm going to cook while singing loudly and pretend that no one can hear me. I am going to wrap my feet up in fuzzy socks. I am going to put on my pink frilly apron and make my momma's cornbread. I am going to drink while I cook. I am going to bombard my husband with kisses all over his face until he laughs in that way that shows the small laugh line wrinkles he is beginning to get around his eyes, and I am going to make him dance with me in our kitchen. Then we are going to eat delicious soup I have cooked and cornbread I have baked while we sit in our pajamas on the couch and drink beer and watch Battlestar Galactica. I am going to knit.

Tonight is the perfect kind of night. The town is getting a respite from the hot weather by going back to the cold and drizzly rain that rusts things shut and makes everything hushed and close and foggy in the mornings. My garden is going without me standing in front of it, watering and worrying. Our front yard is once again a bog and our side yard is getting so soggy I cannot walk across it. The petals on the blossoms on the blackberry bushes behind our house are falling off, covered in raindrops, and the ground beneath them looks speckled white and vibrant green. Everything smells like damp earth and wet asphalt.

It's the kind of night that makes you want to put on your warmest, snuggliest things, and hide from anything that hurts your heart. I am going to wrap mine in a quilt of care, and cook some of my anger at today out, and soak up all the love and good food that I can so I can go out and face tomorrow.

I hope your nights are just as cozy.

Today started out crappy and got slowly better, ending on a high note.

Crappy: Not getting the scooter to start without kickstarting it. Then riding to work in a light drizzle.

Slightly less crappy: Work. There is coffee there. Coffee good. I got my ass kicked, though. I felt pretty wiped when I clocked off, even after such a short shift. It left me feeling like a noob.

Less crappy: Home. Puppies. Food. But only for 1/2 hour.

Less crappy: Lab. Listening to my own iPod and playing with DNA. Also, using chemicals that stain and bond to your DNA chemically, that can keep your cells' DNA from properly replicating. It is dangerous enough that when we get to this part of the experiment, the lab techs are the only ones that do it because we don't want the general poulace of students at large touching this shit. Students are fucking stupid. (Today, I NO SHITTING YOU had a student EATING A BOWL OF CEREAL IN MY MICROBIOLOGY LAB. Seriously. He was studying, looking up bacterial info, with AN OPEN PETRI DISH in front of him, AND A FOTHERMUCKING BOWL OF CHEERIOS. I was flabbergasted. I was gloved, masked, and goggled, carrying specimen trays out of the hood to the HAZMAT area, and this schmuck is wearing Tevas and eating his goddamn breakfast.)

Slightly better: Finished the 4th gel tray to run today, and came home to snuggle with kitty and nap. Sky opened up on me on the way home. Arrived home completely soaked.

Better: Nap. Kitty snuggle. Puppy snuggle.

Better yet: Husband home, folds laundry, starts dinner.

Better still: Food. Good food.

Best: BATTLESTAR GALACTICA!!!1

Time for bed.

I can't sleep. I am too annoyed.

I am trying to write out my joys and frustrations, but I'm having a hard time translating things that move so rapid fire in my chest.

Saturday's BBQ went mostly smoothly and everyone seemed to have a good time. I know I did, hosting and enjoying the sun. I can't think of many things I enjoy more than sangria in the sun and BBQ food. I am totally solar powered, I crave the nice weather, need the sun to recharge my spiritual batteries.

I feel pretty tired today, even with all the sun. Cleanup was easy and the day started well, and then things just kind of slumped. I felt so UGLY today. Fat. Slovenly. My hair is fried from the stupidity of going to Hooligan's to get my last haircut/dye job, where the dye they used fried my hair (unlike when I'd visit Alison and it woud be bright and shiny for weeks) which means I can't do a thing with it and it constantly looks like shit. I haven't worked out in weeks. It feels gross. I overindulged yesterday, that felt gross today, too. I can't keep myself AND John motivated, and he is full of excuses for why we're not counting points and why he can't excercise without a gym membership I cannot currently afford. I tried to talk to him about it. He blew up. His choice words for the day were about how I never fucking relax and why can't I just take a day with no responsibility and chill like a normal person.

I spent about 2 hours locked in the bedroom, reading, not talking to him.

I spent the holiday without my "two best friends" who I am realizing I'm just not that close to, anymore. We're all hitting a time around our 30's where it's obvious that we're making choices and those choices aren't each other. Kat was going to come up, but Jesse's car broke down. I would have welcomed them, but was only told about the intended trip about 24 hours before their proposed arrival. Carly, who I haven't been able to see for more than a few hours in months, planned a trip with Andy's best friends Kate and Jeremy, her sister, and Brad, to visit Andy's family in Naselle. Keep in mind, Carly hasn't been able to find the time to come to Bellingham since, I think, Christmas, while they've gone to Naselle 3 times and the Oregon Coast. She managed to make it up to the 'ham last weekend, when I had a family obligation and had previously told her I'd be unavailable. She came anyway, to see Dan and Courtney, and didn't bother calling me although I was back in town before she left.

Maybe it shouldn't piss me off. Maybe I'm being petty. After all, I haven't made it to Seattle too many times this school year... Oh wait. Yeah. That's because this school year I worked 7 days a week so I could survive and went 5 weeks without an actual day off so that we could continue to pay rent and eat, while I was taking 15 insanely hard credits.

Other than Seder, and the two family obligations the week before last (helping my parents move, yippee, and spending 2 nights crammed on the small floor of a boat, double yippee) I haven't been able to leave B'ham on more than a 4 hour trip.

I think I may actually be too irritated to continue writing this on the internet.

I said I was going to stop drinking, but summer is an inconvenient time for that. So I decided to drink Vodka instead of rum. I had a great night, had a mild buzz, felt awesome, came home and had a good rest of my night with the hubster, and now I'm sober again and my head hurts and I feel like absolute shite. After 3 drinks, on a full stomach, in 4 hours. Jesus.

I feel like Methusela.

Also, everything mechanical that we own malfunctioned today, and we are hosting a BBQ tomorrow and I'm excited to have people over and chill in the sun and not excited to spend my early day directing John in all the tasks that have yet to be accomplished before peeps come over.

*sigh*

Please, let all my problems be so easy...

Note to self:

I love my science job, but do not want to spend the nice weather inside, playing with electrophoresis rigs and trying to figure out if my osmolality measurement is what fucked up yet another round of agarose. That shit is EXPENSIVE and I hate having to tell my boss that I wasted yet another 2.44 grams, doing exactly what she told me to do with the Sodium Boric Acid solution that is still making big clumps in the agar that look like snot.

I need coffee.

O Bellingham, good morning to you!

It looks like it's going to be a gorgeous day, and I am headed off to work at the lab. I haven't showered yet or even changed clothes, and that will occur in a minute, but I wanted to spit something out here before I run down to get coffee and then head to stand in a freezing cold room cleaning a turtle tank for the next 4 hours.

My garden, she lives!

I did this thing where I haven't done a garden of my own, ever, so I planted way too many starts. John and I planned this huge, ambitious garden, and then we ran out of time and money. Guess when you're supposed to put a big garden in? Yeah, late spring. Guess what I was doing in late spring? Going insane with school. I didn't have time to clean my own house, much less rip out the giant shrub that is overtaking the entire side of the house where the garden was supposed to go, so the big garden was out. And then we really, really ran out of money, because John hasn't had a job since November and we're living on my student loans and my work study job and and my coffee shop job and his VA disability, which covers our monthly bills with about $300 to spare for everything else like food and dog food and gas and anything else I want to do.

Anyway, that wasn't the point. The point is that I went to Bakerview Nursery back when I felt like I might be able to put the time in to start my big garden, and I bought a whole bunch of seeds to start tomatoes and peppers. So I started them. All. ALL OF THEM. This means that my windowsill was full of 18 pepper plant starts and 18 tomato plant starts. They grew, oh man did they grow. They took off like rockets, and I cried when I had to thin them. ( I know, stupid, right?) And school wore on and the starts got bigger and bigger and then they obviously needed to be planted but the plot still wasn't ready.

So I planted the tomato plants in big pots for such little starts (well, they were big at the time) and hardened them off over the course of a week and then let them live outside. And they loved it! In fact, they loved it so much that they quickly got too big for their planters and stopped thriving because all their roots were growing together.

So, yesterday, I finally decided I was going to take my stuff out of pots and get them into the ground and into the Earthtainer that John built for me. (The Earthtainer is for my pepper plants, because I don't have a raised bed and the soil needs to stay warmer for peppers, apparently.) I went outside and used my big garden claw to break up the soil in the area I dug up weeks ago (which I had done with the intention of putting my plants in that day, but by the time I got done tilling the whole area by hand with my hand held garden claw I was so sore I couldn't think of tilling in more stuff like steer manure or fertilizer, and now consequently because the area has clayey soil the whole thing was a massive cake that I had to break apart and then till the steer manure and blood meal and topsoil into before I could plant anything anyway) and I set about to planting my tomatoes.

I quickly realized that I have way too freaking many, still. I have two rows of 4 and a row of 3, which would make 11. I still have 7 in pots sitting around the edge of my garden. It takes up about half of my full garden space, and I haven't even planted the rest, which is going to be lettuce and spinach, with a row of carrots and a row of radishes. I was frustrated by my lack of space, and to tell you the truth, I'd really like to actually rip that shrub out and keep going, but I fear that it's too late this year to get going on that project, and that I'll end up with a lot of effort and nothing to show for it.

So, I ran outside this morning to check on all my newly transplanted babies, and they're all alive still, which is good, right? The tomatoes are looking a bit shockey and the peppers are looking a bit wilty, but it's my own fault for letting their root lock get so bad while I was, yanno, struggling to pass Anatomy/Physiology with a good grade and not fail Calculus.

(Oh, BTW, my final grades for last quarter were: Intro to Education = A, Anatomy/Physiology = B+, Calculus=B . I know, right? 3.4! Not bad!)

Okay, I have to put clothes on and head to work in the lab.

I'm sure I'll have more to write later. Like I said, this is an excercise to help remind me what it is like to write every day.