I am tired and drained. I am angry and feel misunderstood. I had to convey something important to my husband this morning, and I did that by yelling, and I really wish I had used a softer voice.
I have been standing at the kitchen stove since last Friday evening. D just gave me the best foot rub ever so I feel renewed for tomorrow at the stove again.
My mother thinks I am damaging my child and my marriage with my canning adventures. She told me to dump 20 pounds of peaches in my yard and hope that a tree grows because it will be cheaper than the $20 I spent on 20 pounds of perfect, organic peaches that I have been struggling to make use of before they're overipe.
It was my mother's birthday yesterday, and I made her a carrot cake from carrots from our garden. I brought over the kale pesto I worked on the other day. I brought green beans from the garden. It was simple, but it took me a lot of time.
It takes time to honor the earth and honor ingredients. My big learning project with the garden this year is to use what we grow in a way that honors our effort and the vibrant life of the plant. I'm not getting an A+ this year. The learning curve is steep. But it feels really yucky when people I love dismiss or ignore the hard work I'm doing or the meaning I'm making. I don't expect them to embrace the same meaning I'm using in this effort (a cake is a cake to my mom), but -- after all that I have given, so freely, and with such care -- I wish that my relatives could acknowledge that it mattered to me in a nice way.