Did I really write just a couple of days ago about how content I was? That mood has totally gone.
I will concede that nothing seriously bad has happened, I’m just mildly pissed off about a number of things.
I got some good advice a few weeks ago about how to protect my fruit trees from birds, and so I bought hundreds of dollars worth of bags to put on them. The peach tree was looking very healthy this year, with no evidence of the leaf curl it’s had in the past and numerous fruit that’s just on the cusp of ripeness.
and now this:
I’ve gone down this road before, so I know how it goes. Several peaches will succumb each day, until there’s none left, and all before any of them are ripe enough to eat. And there’s nothing I can do about it now, as I should have been back here spraying the tree with copper instead of gadding around the world back in spring. What a dummy. Will I never learn? Will I remember next spring?
We went for another long bike ride yesterday. I got a sore arse about half way through, I’ve never figured out why this happens with some bikes and not others. I’ve tried swapping with padded seats before to no avail. Also, when we got home, my battery was still 80% charged, after a total of 80 k riding over two days. All to the good, right? But no, what this means is I’ve paid more money for a bike with a bigger, heavier battery than I needed. I’m still cross with the shop for not going through a needs assessment with me. If they aren’t going to have the models on the floor for customers to try, at least they can take the time to help work out which bike is right for you. The internet is surprisingly rubbish at helping with this question. To cap it off, when I told the friend we had dinner with the other night that my brand new bike was an e-bike, he said “Ewww!” and made the sign of the cross at me as if I was Dracula. He’s a serious cyclist, you see. I’m sick and tired of having to be an e bike apologist.
My brows are also getting me down. I’ve been doing all I can to get them to fade, but the sad reality is, I’m stuck with these generic, soulless brows now until I die. Unless I get them lasered off, I suppose. I’m not sure if this was foreseeable, and therefore my fault, or if the tattoo person has done a poor job, by not finding out exactly what I wanted before going ahead. She’d done a mock up the week before but hadn’t taken any photos. It’s probably a mix of the two. Anyone who’s ever worked with me would be very surprised to know I’ve had them done, because now I think about it, almost every list I do, when I see someone with tattooed brows, I say “Why would you do that? Brow fashions change so much, why get stuck with one style all your life?” I’m shaking my head as I remember this. What was I thinking, indeed? A temporary aberration, a midsummer brain fade, and now I’m stuck like this forever. Ugh.
Ratdog has been barking at passersby, and jumping over the fence to do so. I’ve rigged up a temporary fix, after many failed experiments, but asked our gardener if he could do something more permanent. He’s come up with a $17k solution: a brand new fence, complete with diggers and earthworks and a retaining wall. My husband is not amused. And we thought children were expensive.
And finally, after two weeks of slog, I’ve managed to finish the novel I was reading, only to find that everyone dies, except for one drone and a robot brain. This was not the payoff I was looking for.
So, am I bipolar, a Karen, or just a contrarian? Or, as is more likely, is life just shades of grey, and never entirely one thing or the other? One thing is for certain: I have work to do on my mindfulness training.