Temporary? Insanity

It began with the dentist yesterday. Followed by many tears and whimpers of “Why? But…why?” And then a rescheduled appointment. Wry, understanding smiles from the dental clinic staff. My brave lioness of a girl has lost some of her brave edge. And her mum lost a great deal of her patience…


Then to the grocery store. Whack! Clipped my knee under the steering column (some days I just hate being tall). The knee I wrecked two years ago. The one with the tender lump of scar tissue that’s all too easily aggravated. Limped my way through grocery shopping. Found my knee to be many shades of purple a couple hours later.


Emma had to use the washroom at the store. She has a strange and annoying fascination with public bathrooms. (Note to self: teach Emma about germs and cure that problem right quick.) Emma decides to be gracious and let three ladies go in front of her. Twenty minutes later…


Sigh.


Home to our lovely home with its two stories of south facing windows. Muggy and hot. The smell of sewage in the air as the septic tank is pumped…


I attempted to reclaim the day and clean out the laundry room. End up enraged/battling tears. So. Much. Junk. Many mental reminders that I love my packrat of a husband. Much despairing and doom’n'glooming, my dream of a neat and tidy, well ordered home suddenly shattered in a kajillion pieces. Begin to suspect hormones might be at work.


Granny stops by with a box of overripe peaches and puts them in my fridge. Fridge won’t shut. Try to fix it. Box falls out. Peaches everywhere. The tears start to come. Granny grabs me up in a hug. But it’s so stinking hot and I can’t bear it, but she won’t let go. And I break down and sob and sob. Which makes me hotter, which makes me more upset. Nothing feels right or that it ever will be, could be again.


The phone won’t stop ringing but never seems to be for me.


And then, the sky catches fire. Or seems to. The sun burns the most disturbing shade of red and smoky grey clouds flit across the surface of it. Not clouds. Smoke (a forest fire – an hour away). Then ash. Falling to the earth in great wafts, like we’re being seasoned with salt and pepper. The whole sky seems strange and unearthly. Apocalyptic almost. Ash drifts through the window screens. I give up. The house will never be clean.


Dinner heats the house up horribly and is only marginally edible.


I leave to go to town. Visiting ladies for church. Things are better. Calmer. But I need to do something. Need to be busy and distract myself from my surly thoughts. Two and a half hours of visiting later and I just want to go home and curl up in bed.


Return home. Mum is on the phone. She cheers me immeasurably (I love you Mum!). While I’m on the phone Neil draws a bath. He often does in the evenings. I plan to collapse in bed while he bathes. He leads me to the bathroom though and the bath is foamy and smells of lavender. There are tea-light candles everywhere and a small rock crystal lamp so I have light enough to read by.


I cry.


No good very bad days rarely end so very, very sweetly. And today (which has been a very good day, especially by comparison), I’m left filled with gratitude. For my stubborn but delightful daughter. For my sore knee that has forced me to slow down and not clean my house in a panic for our weekend houseguests (it’s clean enough for comfort – that can be enough). For friendships. For sweetness. For so very, very many things. And for knowing that there is no bad day bad enough that love can’t stop it in its tracks.