What a beautiful autumn day in Tuscaloosa, Alabama. My plans were to do a couple of loads of laundry, try a new bread recipe, and possibly begin painting my bathroom before two of my grandsons came to visit. A little ambitious, yes...but do-able [with the exception of the painting]. Completed one load of laundry, put the second one in and got started on Romano Garlic French Bread. Mixed up dough, set it on stovetop with oven on "Warm", covered with towel to raise...and went to take a shower. This is the point where my day began to quiver a bit....It didn't completely go downhill but certainly had the potential to start in that direction.
While in the shower, I hear a loud beeping sound....much like that of an alarm. I stick my head out of shower door; it wasn't the security system...wasn't the alarm clock...hmmmmm....yep, it was the smoke alarm. Wrap my wet self up in a towel....follow the direction of the noise into the kitchen. Oven was not set on "Warm" but on "Broil" and the towel that was covering my dough was turning dark in places as it was directly against the oven vent. Ok...no harm done. Yes, I'll be more careful next time....Turn oven knob to LEFT [Warm] rather than to the RIGHT [Broil]. I will definitely be more careful from here on out...as I said yesterday -- awareness is the key.
Finish shower; go to check laundry. Hmmm.....washer is filled with water but doing nothing. Knob in; knob out. Nothing. Check the electricity by unplugging washer and plugging curling iron in...light came on so electricity is there. And, yes, checking juice with curling iron is a girlie, girlie thing to do, but it was my first instinct. So I have a completely idle washer full of water and very heavy wet towels.
Now is the time that I must interject the reason for this blog as my form of therapy and reflection. I wasn't going to mention this "seasonal change" in my life just yet, but the near "come apart" that followed the "idle washer" is the direct result, so I feel I must.
It was 13 1/2 months ago that my husband of 36 years announced that he needed to "get away for a while". So I am pretty much on my own physically, emotionally, ....literally on my own. Not entirely financially, but in every other aspect..alone.
So when my washer full of water and towels sits idle, the anger and bitterness and frustration inside of me bubble and gurgle and spew and stew. And I cry. Not a lot, but cry nonetheless. Tears still come easy. But after 13 1/2 months, they also end easier now that they did even just a month or two ago.
I take a deep breath and begin to look at my options. Then I remember the shop vac my husband received for Christmas several years ago, which is [along with many, many of his other left behind belongings] in the storage room. I retrieve my shop vac and begin to 'suck' the water from the washer. Of course, I don't realize when the cannister of the shop vac reaches its capacity, the water will BLOW out of the opposite side...shooting across the laundry room, ricocheting against the wall and out into the pantry. Huge sigh...but in a small way, a success. No tears come. Only laughter...yes, it is hysterical laughter, but laughter nonetheless.
Another alarm sounds. This time it is the oven timer for the bread, which has been raising this entire time. Take care of the dough and get it in the oven...which by the way, requires a pan of water on the shelf below it. I do not have time to investigate the reasoning behind this, but at some point, I will. Back to the laundry room debacle.
I empty the shop vac cannister; vacuum the water all over the floor and the remaining water in the machine. Whoops. Cannister is full again...spraying wall again. Huge sigh. A bad word. Take cannister outside and empty and start again. This time, guess what? I pay attention to how full the cannister is getting so it does not spew again. Again, awareness is key to everything.
How does this annoying, frustrating, obnoxious day end?
With two lovely loaves of Romano Garlic French Bread, an hour at the play area at McDonald's with an 8 year old and a 4 year old giggling as they play "Hide n Seek" in the maze of slides and chutes, a nutritious meal resplendent with French Fries and Hot Fudge Sundaes, and a pallet of 5 quilts in the living room floor with those same 2 little guys breathing deeply as they fall asleep under Mamaw's watchful eyes.
A season of life that is full of learning -- how to bake bread, how to live alone, how to become resourceful and independent; and full of loving -- grandsons and granddaughter, Yorkies, autumn evenings, quietness of my house.
I'm going to be okay. It's just going to take a bit longer.
I
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