Staring Again

Starting Again

When I talked to my husband about how I was worrying about not working on my blog, he told me not to push it but to wait until I had something that I want to talk about.  It seems that I have a thousand and one things to talk about but my mind is scattered here and there without a haven to land in.  Even now, I am struggling with this new computer, finding that when I wanted to work that I could not find Word to start my document, that my husband is still sleeping and since the move of stuff during the re-carpeting of the house, the arrival of the new couch and bookcases that I can not find paper to write on.  Thankfully, I remember that my blog has a writing program so here I am early in the morning when I could be sleeping in working on the blog.  Well, it is something.

I wore myself out yesterday.  I was hauling out the bathwater to water the new grass that the neighbors planted between us.  It seems that all of the West coast is in a drought as well as the rest of our state.  It hurts me to place my body in the pure, crystal water to scrub off the imagined filth of my body.  I hate to watch the still nearly clear water drain down in its whirlpool fashion when I know that the lawns, the trees, and forests around us are parched with the lack of moisture.

My hauling out the bathwater is an involved process since the putting in of new carpet.  No shoes on the carpet so as I pad in just my socks to the bathroom, dip my small saucepan into the water, fill up the blue mixing bowl, walk to the door, put on my shoes and out the door I go. I wonder is it all worth it. The roses seem to think so.  Sighing, 

I return time and time again to fill up my mixing bowel, put on my shoes and head out the door.

My project has gotten easier since my husband found a watering can in the garage.  I place it on the brown grass so that if I spill a drop or two of the precious moisture it will fall onto the brown damping it into a deeper shade of brown.

I found myself feeling greatly troubled when my husband drained my tub one morning as I was preparing to get ready for work. I went to the kitchen to grab my blue mixing bowl and went to find out that my water was gone. I stood in shock, wondering if I had time to strangled my husband before getting to work.

I am sure that the roses would have been fine but I told my husband as his punishment, he would have to water the new grass with the hose.  With the hose, I was horrified. Pure, fresh water and my water bill climbing before my eyes.  After all, one of the reasons for hauling out the bathwater was to save on my water bill.  

Yesterday,  when my man came into the kitchen where I had been cooking vegetables for the week, he declared that he needed lots of room to work in and his eyes went to the big kettle that I had boiled the corn in.  It was full of water.  "I need that," he declared.  The water was still too hot to place on the plants outside so I told him to pour it into the bathwater.  He had just had an a late afternoon bath after working in the yard pruning some bushes. Once again, I didn't want to waste the water by sending it down the drain. Dutifully, he carried the water to the tub to mix and cool with the rest of the water before returning to the kitchen to begin making seafood fettuccine. After he had dumped the water from the corn into the tub, I told him that I wished that we had used the same water to cook the pasta. He remarked that would have been a good idea. I heard the pasta water going down the drain later, thinking that we should have poured it into another kettle to cool until it could go on the potatoes but oh, well.

It is hard to remember that I should get a bowl out to catch the water when I am just rinsing my hands or the fruit and vegetables. Sometimes afterwards, I remember and cringe at the waste.  I mention to my husband that our son who will be coming home for a visit will have to get use to the new rules about water usage in our house.  I asked his father what he thought that our son would think when he found out that he would be hauling out his bath water.  Maybe, less baths?  

Someone asked me why I didn't put a hose out of my bathroom window.  I told them that it would defeat the purpose.  It is an exercise for both my body and mind.   But after yesterday, I am thinking that it is mostly exercise for my body.  I asked my husband to drain the rest of the water in the tub so I would not be tempted to do just one more trip, to water just one more plant or tree.

Still it is my contribution to the world who doesn't even know it except for the small fairies, and other spirits of the trees who I imagined are smiling at me.  Perhaps, the little wisp of a breeze on my hand is actually a gentle kiss of those we cannot see saying thanks.