I was promised a fence
You know the projects. The things you need done that you won’t do yourself. The things you would hire done if they weren’t offered from a partner. Which feels like a promise. Those projects.
I feel the list growing.
I don’t often write by typing. Well, that is to say, the call to write is best answered by writing. Typing might be what I do to transfer such utterings to others’ eyes most often, but the writing itself, straight out nine fingers (because let’s be honest - both thumbs don’t work equally hard at the space bar, now do they? …although in paying attention just now, they do seem to take turns more often than I realized. And now I’m sufficiently distracted from my point by my mind’s attempt to recognize the pattern in my typing for when lefty pops in with a _ instead of righty. I’ve yet to solve it. I need to stop trying... anyway.)
We’ve had quite the upheaval in the last year. In addition to the global ones most of the human population, if not most of the earthly population, have gone through recently, we upheaved much in the last year. And in so doing, we are working to build a’new in our new place in geography, rhythm, and desire. This requires Projects. It also lends itself to Buying Things. And neither of us is much on Shopping. Neither are we overly flush on Free Time or Energy or Focus.
What does any of this have to do with a fence, Alli? Get to the point.
Right.
I’m turning the backyard into a garden. Roughly half of our large yard will, hopefully, grow a lot of food. For us, for our flying cousins, and excess feeding our neighboring humans. The garden is started. It’s under row cover for the seasonally-impending insects, the curious birds, and, I thought, for the insipid squirrels and maybe even the aging family dog.
The squirrels will need to be dealt with in harsher manners.
The dog, however, is gentle and loving, if a bit daft and mostly deaf. And he just wandered across the newly snowy grass onto the newly snowy row cover, walking as much as he desired in shrinking circles, before backing up to drop his large-dog-sized pile of poop directly on the row cover. Hopefully not also directly upon a broccoli sprout.
I haven’t gotten to the point.
I will hodge-podge things together to get them done. My mind is generally on quick-fire mode and definitely in a “done is better than perfect, unless I want it perfect, in which case…I won’t even start.” A fence was discussed, desired, planned, and decided six months ago. And then, to be fair, it froze a lot. For a long time.
And because that is, actually, a fair reason, I haven’t brought it up. But, because it is not fair to bedruge and bemoan to the anonymous abyss of the internet without sharing my heart with my love, I will bring it up, today.
For what is left untended, festers. And what festers, spoils. And no, I do not think leaving a thing such as this unspoken would spoil the life-long love we’ve built, you never do know what crack, once started, might spread. Or what omission, once left silent, leads to further silence, thus creating a widening chasm in connection.
So yes, on another snowy day, when a fence cannot be built as the post holes will fill with melt and freeze before concrete can be poured, I will bring it up. And we will again discuss, desire, plan, and decide - together. Except perhaps this time with a commencement date.
And no, it will not be riddled with guilt, shame, or blame. It will not be full of “why haven’t yous” or “it could’ve been done by nows” or any of the other sayings on our mental tape-recorders from conversations with past parents, bosses, or others. That is not what we do here. To each other, ourselves, or our love. It will, instead, be more akin to “hey, so the dog pooped on the row cover. Do you want me to call the skid steer person for a quote on post holes and get on his schedule for good weather?”
And we will go from there.