I had a pretty severe meltdown the other morning. This used to happen to me a couple of times a year, and now it only happens about once a year. The key is what is happening that year. If you have been reading this blog for a while now, you realize that I have been through things that some people never get near in a lifetime.

The fire was just a little over four years ago, and on 7/29/18 we got hit with a tornado. My mother always said: “Bad news comes in three’s.” She was good at sharing all of the Old Wives Tales. If you have heard any of them, you come to realize that most are how to deal with bad things that happen. Now I am sitting around waiting for the other shoe to drop, so to speak. Two cruel things in a bit over four years has been hard to handle.


(Not sure you can tell, but I made all those things hanging up. They look beat up from a distance, but upon cleanup inspection, I found bits of glass and sticks embedded in them. Now they are totally useless. 4-years of work down the tubes in about 30 minutes.)

While watering what little is left in our greenhouse (with no roof – thank you tornado), I lost it. I just got this overwhelming urge to sit down and cry, so I did. Right there, in between the dead cabbage and splintered peppers plot and the shredded tomatoes with out-of-control zucchini plot; I just dropped my butt on the walkway floor and burst into tears.
row mess
(The climbing rack is back up, but you can see how the plants are demolished.)

I know (from years of experience) that this is a great thing to do, and not everyone can do it. However, I really hate when it sneaks up on me like that. I used to be able to watch a movie like City of Angles (my fiance’ died just before that movie came out – but that’s another story) and bring on the flood by my choice. Lately, the impending flood has been controlling me, and it’s not a good thing. Out-of-control mushy is irritating.

This little old man in front of me in line at 7-11 didn’t have enough change for his coffee and paper and was scrambling frantically to find a miracle in his pocket. I looked at the gal behind the counter and said: “I got that.” I just smiled at them both and handed her the cash for his purchase. He gave me the sweetest smile and a thank you. The weird part is I got my stuff, went to my car, and had a bugger of a time getting my tears to stay back – WHY? I also want to know why the kind human act should bring on such a reaction out of me?

I looked around through my soggy eyes at all the devastation. The sun was up. It was mid-morning, and the birds were singing. One of the barn cats had come to join me on the ground, although she did insist on being pet while there. No one was hurt during the devastation. Our home was mostly intact. So why was I a bawling mess now?

The answer: Because things finally settled down.
comfee kittie
Yep, I am one of those fortunate people that dive right into a problem and deal with it. Then, once the major mess is over, I lose it. I stepped up when dad died, handled all the doctor questions because I was the only one in the room that could talk. Took care of the funeral details and calling all the family (with mom and sisters beside me trying to tell other loved ones, I would take the phone when they couldn’t). Mom died in my arms (had her home with hospice care and I was holding her while we were changing the sheets). There are many, many times I recall stepping up to “get-er-dun” and then falling apart days or weeks later. It’s just my thing.

I soon realized, with a purring cat in lap and soaked shredded plants beside me, that my ass was getting very, VERY wet. My tears started to subside with the memory of my fathers lovingly (family-famous) words of wisdom now filling my head:

“Ya dumb shit, get off the floor and out of the water!”

We spread a heavy weed barrier cloth all across the greenhouse floor before building the plots. The first plots I forgot to line with plastic to help keep in the water. When I watered any given spot on these plots too much, I would seep under the plot boards into the middle walkway. Thus, the very wet ass.

It was time to solid-up, pull up my big girl panties and get back to life! The whole melt-down only lasted about 15-20 minutes, but it left me exhausted.

This is the good part – all the sad, mad, depressing, over-whelming junkie feelings were gone. Sure, I/we still have a TON of work to do in cleanup, repairs, and replacements but the weight of it all was gone. The last melt-down I had was about eight months after the fire, so I guess I was a little overdue.

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Annies Jack-O-Lantern sewing pattern




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