My brain is hardwired to be unhappy this week. In this moment I am sick of coping with it, so since I have no intention of posting some laundry list of things I'm (probably temporarily) unhappy about, we'll keep this short.
I canned today. That's it. I'd really hoped to get in a reading lesson with the twins and oversee piano practicing and get a few pages of work done--but it turns out that a half-bushel of green beans is a very big project and a full bushel of apples to apple sauce is a very big project and if you sleep in until ten because you were up till three with the tomato soup--well that's the whole day pretty much right there. We did run a few errands including getting more laundry detergent--but mostly we were out of a few things I needed for canning and that's the only reason I was willing to leave the house. Last night with the kids and the dogs used up the last of this weekend's willingness for adventure--and I still have a football game to get through tomorrow.
While I still have way too many tomatoes and may lose some of them before I get them canned, I really need to NOT can tomorrow. So that is tomorrow's plan. Tomorrow I am NOT canning.
The boys are happy and healthy and affectionate and very excited about all the apple sauce. That's nice. They're humoring me about the beans. They have no more intention of taking up green bean eating than they do of taking up knitting, but I went ahead and canned them anyway. Afterall, they quickly learned that home-canned tomato soup is not like any tomato soup they'd had before (Wallace's voice in my head on that one as he takes a bite of the moon), so maybe they'll take a liking to home-canned green beans.
Things are tough right now. I have been bit by the black snake that is depression and at night especially the antidote seems so far away. Chris comes back tomorrow night and I feel like I am holding my breath until he does. For one, he will come home and happily count the jars of tomato soup and tell me it's good and I will think that maybe it was good that I did the canning after all. For another, I will feel safe again with him in the house and every stupid acorn that falls on the metal roofs that are over all of our windows will stop causing me to jump out of my skin. We have so many enormous old oak trees and they make so many enormous acorns and I swear the squirrels pick them and fling them down onto the roof on purpose.
"Ooh, good one Eunice! I think the lady jumped three feet with that one!"