COMPOSTING PART 1

This is the compost pile.  The making of it anyways.  The description of the layers.

If you can't deal with the immaterial materialities of my life and the way I think about things, I would recommend reading NO further. 

(So strange to write that since most of the time I believe I am writing to myself as the primary reader of this blog--explaining the parameters I am setting--all part of exploring the comfort and discomfort of this medium of written expression--at once private and public --in the same proximity--)

The first layer is this:

When I was alone, and sometimes very lonely in Jersey for 7 months of pregnancy with River, I would call Kelly (Big Sister).

And she would say 

{to the decrees of my "lonesome {and oh how lonesome was NJ for me?) state"}

"You should try to enjoy being alone, because that is all about to change."

And so I did.

I savored the acorn squash, egg sandwiches with raisin bread, french toast, and tuna sandwiches, sometimes just cereal.  I savored all those meals on my own.  The long baths, the quiet of a day spent in intensive study--all the while growing with the baby (and so not ever alone at all).  Yoga, lots of yoga.  

It did all change.

Now...I am split in many parts after two lovely children, I find trying to re-enter the world of professional progression for the main objective of profit in order to pay the price of living--us, a family--in this city quite problematic.  Even as I enjoy working often.

And I want to succeed and I want to get it all right.  And I believe in what I do.

But I am not with my children this weekend.  Because I cannot bring myself to the level of going to the cabin.  I need to work on Sunday on a campaign.  I know the altitude and transitions involved in the cabin are too hard to go up and down.  And they need desperately to go.  All 3 need a final ( and for Canyon a first) day on skis.  The next weekends each of us solo with the kids for individual trips.  And also soccer starts.  I guess I didn't think of that--will I not get to the cabin until the wildflowers are poking through?

Plus, this is the awful truth--I need to assimilate a bit that has transpired so quickly.  Mama of two, working part-time in a garden but mostly being Mama, has a miscarriage, gets a full-impact job, and whirls through a rather weird working environment as the gavel prepares to drop and Sine Die!  You're Through!

So, I need some time to myself to prepare for another transition.

And I wish I could just pull it together.  So many women do.  No big deal.  But I have only spent one short night away from Canyon our whole lives together.  I see them both so little during the week.  I want to jump in that old VW Bus and chug perilously to McCall.  

All of us (4) cuddled in soft sheets.

The van wouldn't make it though.  And I get to sleep in as late as I want.  

1. Garden all day?  
2. Do anything I want for as long as I want at the "Y" ?
3. Sleep all day, Clean all night (including vacuum)?
4. Just read, write, sleep, eat, read, write, eat, sleep.
5. Movie!  With DB!
6. Shopping (with gift certificates)
7. Get hair done.  And then walk aimlessly around wherever I feel like going.
8. Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh
9. You get the idea.

And ideally the soil to lay the compost in is rich and ready.  Lots of tunnelers to create gardener's gold.  And the area is set, protected, with three bins for churning is nice.  A big pitchfork handy, and lots of carbon (fallen leaves or shredded paper) for layering in between to help with decomposition.

We just have one of those plastic turning bins right now.  Haven't taken the time for building the other.

But any attempt is good.

And in terms of the material immaterials...well...I believe the timing is near perfect for a description and enactment of the layers as they're lain.