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Inspiration Nor Motivation Fail To Find Me

Here’s to the joy of being well on my way in reclaiming my tarnished dignity by building a new plant nursery in Les Pierres’ vegetable garden, to my own design, as well as creating a new raised bed, wooden terraces, pergolas galore and wooden fences to seriously slow down young Mec rampaging around, you know, the jobs one likes to leave for ones husband in return for an affable coffee or another appetizing snack and some well placed compliments, profoundly praising masculinity.

For a considerable amount of time the conversation at our p’tit domaine was dominated by statements about what I should but couldn’t do, mostly due to physical setbacks because inspiration nor motivation fail to find me when it comes to surrendering to the beauty of this already naturally molded slice of paradise, making it easy to not just see the work ahead but also to submit to its necessity and urgency, or lack of one or both to push it further ahead.

Ivory, not yet fully accustomed to my current level of activity and as surprised but excited by its sudden emergence as I am myself, swears I’m becoming more and more manic about future endeavors, about how to speed them up so we can both profit from this ostentatious outburst of zealousness, a sentiment easily confirmed by just looking at my daily to-do and bricolage lists, that just don’t get any shorter no matter my commitment to it.

I optimistically object to the term mania because it generally casts its undesirable shadow of a downfall forward, a finitude to fear because it indicates doom and certainly affects any productivity.

Ivory’s still in recovery mode from his first Covid shot, so to top my already cramped schedule I’m also dealing with the augmented and continuous marches of our Young Mec, definably my child if not by birth by upbringing, but also the poster one for the word that keeps resonating.

It never stops with witnessing his overloaded craziness, because when he crashes, he truly crashes to burn. But as a bigger take away that gently surfaces, potential payback for what we’ve been putting up with and our efforts put in, I’m overwhelmed by his eagerness to joyfully repeat, without exception or slowdown.

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2 years ago

I love that pic of Mec with the stick – he looks like a devil dog, even though he’s an angel 😍.

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