Selfie: 2021, Week 21 – Weeding

The beans are starting to train up the twine. The tomatoes are confused, with the smallest bearing three tiny tomatoes and the bigger plants starting to flower. The peppers have gone on strike with this mild spring. Even the zucchini is content to leaf out – not a single flower even though the garden plot catty-corner from mine has majestic zucchini resplendent with glorious yellow blossoms.

But my weeds! It’s early, sure, but I’ve got a bumper crop going of frustratingly creeping vines, broad-leafed deep-rooted parasites, and if you pull one up three grow back in its place…

Weeding is, without question, the worst part of gardening.

A couple of weeks ago my plot was utterly overrun with unwanted foliage. I had to split the work up over a couple of afternoons to give my back and knees a chance. And you know what I had at the end of each day to show for my labor? Dirt.

Of course, when I came back to water a couple days later it really did seem like all the plants (the legitimate ones I planted) seemed to stand a little taller, glow a little more vibrantly green.

Not gonna lie: I cursed them all a little bit.

I mean, I know, you’ve got to do the things you don’t want to do but are “good for you.” But if you’re looking for the sermon detailing how we’re all better off for the hard work of “weeding” in our own life, you’ve come to the wrong place.

Sure, the plants were standing tall, but my back was still sore. And I joked that I’d finish weeding a row only to turn around to find the weeds had all grown back.  It’s funny… because you know it’s true.

Truth is, I was planning on weeding on Sunday – marathon session under the midday sun and just get the whole plot done. That sounded great in my head! Of course it didn’t come to pass. You know what I did instead? Not a damn thing. Sunday could be seen – through a certain lens – as one colossal waste of time. Nothing whatsoever was accomplished.

But it was a blissfully necessary lethargy. And, I recognized, the eye of the storm.

The last few weekends have been jam packed with obligations. Last week in particular I fixed a can organizer project, built that drawer I wrote about, tended to the garden, even picked up the kitchen. And things are getting crazier from here on out, too, with trying to cram bartending gigs while preparing for an upcoming epic motorcycle trip that’s only about three weeks away.

I needed Sunday to do nothing just so I could remember what doing nothing felt like.

The weekend wasn’t a total waste, though. Saturday morning I got in a great hike from Shell beach up to Red Hill and then put the front wheel back on the motorcycle and gave it a quick test ride. Having officially accomplished a couple things, however, I settled in to a nice session of doing nothing.

I frequently find myself caught between two worlds. I know (and envy) people who just can’t sit still. They have to be fixing something, building something, creating something. Constantly in motion. These are the people who were happily weeding on Sunday after they cleaned their house top to bottom and afterwards prepared all the meals for the week.

I’m tired just thinking about these people.

I do have some of those tendencies.

However, I’m also a card carrying member of Procrastinators United (our motto: we’ll get you a motto tomorrow). Case in point: weeding. The weeds didn’t grow that much between Sunday and today.

An example of this dual states of mind is that Akilah gives me crap because I notoriously never finish a TV series. Part of it is I just don’t want things to end (I still haven’t finished the last half of the final season of The Good Place because I don’t want it to be over) so I’m pushing off watching the ending. But another part of not finishing TV series is that something’s got to be really good for me to sit through it.

I filled the 5-gallon bucket with weeds tonight before the failing light forced me to postpone finishing weeding for another evening. The tomatoes are weed-free, as are the beans and zucchini. I’ll probably be back at it on Wednesday, clearing the weeds from the finicky peppers and trying to figure out where the beets stop and the weeds begin. So far, my back doesn’t seem the worse for wear. Part of that is genuinely the rest I gave it yesterday – I was a little over exuberant on the downhill portions of Saturday’s hike.

Sunday was a wonderful day of doing nothing… except, of course, for letting my body rest so I can get going on everything that’s to come. Time’s going to go into fast-forward in just a second here. I’m glad I had a day to let everything slow down and quiet my mind and body.

The weeds, obligingly, waited for me.

Five Things This Week: 2021, Week 20

TikTok
Look, you either know it or are actively ignoring it. Either way, here’s five creators who I encourage you to check out because their content is really worth your time: 
@steveioe – An ER doc who provides unvarnished opinions/advice and drops a lot of MF-bombs. 
@mndiaye_97 – Always fascinating animal facts and the most entertaining way to keep up on wildlife beefs (who knew anteaters and leopards hated each other so much?!)
@propstohistory – Provides great stories about the history of famous props from movies. 
@celinaspookyboo – Started following her because of her astonishing sleepwalking videos, but she’s so much more than that. Really inspirational. And funny as hell.
@straw_hat_goofy – Insightful takes on movies and comics. His series of videos during Marvel’s Falcon and the Winter Soldier were spot on.

Freud 8″ x 20T Box Joint Cutter Set
I bought a Dewalt DW745 table saw a number of years ago. We took a long time to become friends, but now we’re close. One problem that I knew ahead of time from reviews was that the arbor on that saw is too short to take a dado stack. I didn’t think that would be much of a problem simply because I’ve never had a table saw before. But it became an issue as I got more acquainted with the saw and my projects got more ambitious. From one of the questions on Amazon someone recommended this Freud box joint cutter set. It allows you to cut either 1/4 or 3/8 inch dados depending on how the two blades are installed. It’s not as good as a full dado stack – having to do two cuts for a 3/4″ dado is certainly annoying. But it’s a lot better than having to make a dozen cuts with just the blade. 
Dewalt has discontinued the DW745 and replaced it with the DWE7485 (which has cool handles!!). It looks like it’s got the same short arbor, so the Freud blade set would likely still work.

Lite Brite Nation
YouTube
I’ve been following Kevin and Brittany Williams on YouTube for years. Primarily, they’re 4-wheelers with their massively modified Jeep JL, AKA “Stepchild”. But beyond that, they do drifting, they competed and finished this year’s King of the Hammers race, and they just have an enormous amount of fun. Honestly, just watching them be themselves goofing around is worth a watch. After living out of their Jeep (and truck) for the last few years, they just this week announced they bought a property in southern Utah. It’s an exciting new chapter for them and I’m glad they’re taking all of us along!

Alltrails 
I’ve mentioned elsewhere how much I’ve enjoyed hiking more over the last year. One of the apps I’ve found helpful has been Alltrails.com. Sometimes the interface can be a little frustrating, but the ability to find local hikes with up to date reviews as well as distance and elevation changes has been great. 

Campendium
Can you tell I’m planning for a trip coming up? Campendium is geared more towards RVers, but RVers who are looking to boondock – that is, set up in primitive campgrounds where there may not be running water or facilities. In a nice RV the lack of amenities may not be as big a deal as when you’re piitching a tent, but that’s just the kind of off-the-beaten-path kind of camping I love. Like Alltrails, reviews help a lot when you’re evaluating whether you want to head down five miles of washboard road for a free BLM (Bureau of Land Management, that is) camping spot.

Story: 2021, Week 20 – Quarantine, Chapter 1: Surprise!

Alright, this is a day late. And I wanted to let this play out a little bit. It’s unapologetically weird. And it’s in chapters! Chapter 1 today, and I hope to get new chapters soon (like, maybe tomorrow? Saturday? Soon…). Okay, let’s see how Amie’s pandemic started…

Monday, March 2, 2020 started pretty normally. I woke up late – normal. I found a mostly clean dress and set a reminder to do laundry – still normal. Put food down for William Ignatius George Grover Lawrence Eliot Smith II (my cat, WIGGLES) – normal. He looked at me, looked at the food, then looked back at me like, “This is the best you’ve got?”

“Yes, Wiggles, that’s what you’re getting.”

He looked back at his food. Then back at me like “You wore that dress on Friday.”

“I know, Wiggles, I know,” I said tying my hair back. “We’re doing laundry tonight.”

He meowed dismissively and begrudgingly started eating his cat food.

I recognized that I need to stop having imaginary conversations with my cat – still normal.

Balanced my grande non-fat chai latte and my breakfast sandwich as I hit the button for the second floor. Didn’t spill anything (okay, very little), hung up my purse, started my computer booting, leaned back in my chair and took a long breath and tried to get myself into the headspace for a new week – normal. 

“You know you they frown at sleeping on the job,” a voice startled me and I jumped in my seat. “Whoa! Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you!”

“Peter!” I said, trying to regain my composure. He was early and I wasn’t prepared to flirt this early – okay, so, yeah, this is the start where things got less normal. “Ahem, sorry, just, you know, meditating for the new week. What, err, how was your weekend?”

He smiled.

I melted.

“Good, good. Have you checked your email yet?” he looked past me and saw my machine just got to the Windows log in. “Oh, guess not.”

“No, what’s up? Who’s fired?”

“No, no one. It’s that virus…”

“Ooh,” I leaned forward, “Who got a virus? Was it from porn? Who downloaded porn at work? Eliot in QA, right? It was totally Eliot!”

“What?” Peter looked confused. “No, no, not that kind of virus. That Covid 19 one that came over from China?”

“That’s a lot less exciting than Eliot getting busted for porn,” I said. I looked at my watch, “Day’s still early, though. He still might… Wait, Covid 19?”

“Weirdo,” he smiled again. Why does he keep doing that?!

I bowed my head. “Guilty,” I said. “So… Covid-19?”

“We’re going home. I’m heading out right now. Didn’t know if Dean talked to you guys yet?”

“Going home?”

“Work from home. Quarantine. Guess this shit’s serious!”

“What? Seriously?” My desk phone rang. “It’s Dean,” I said looking at the caller ID.

“That’s probably it. I’ll catch up with you later!” he said and then disappeared and all my plants immediately wilted for his absence.

“Dean, you’re here early,” I started. In his office, grab Terry and Jessica on the way. Peter was right, we were going home, quarantine indefinitely, do we have the necessary equipment to do our job from home, yada yada yada.

Not. Normal.

Back at my cube, I stared around, evaluated what I needed to take and headed home.

As I approached the door I heard the deep thumping bass. At 10am? Seemingly coming from my door? I took my pepper spray out of my purse and cautiously put my hand on the knob. I could feel the vibrations of the loud music through the cool metal. I listened… “Mind Playing Tricks On Me” by the Geto Boys? What the hell? I jiggled the knob experimentally and it was still locked.

I should have been scared. I probably should have retreated to my car and called the cops. But I was pissed my morning flirting was cut short. I was pissed someone was listening to tracks from the golden age of hip hop without me (the song had changed to Pete Rock and C.L. Smooth’s “They Reminisce Over You”)! Someone’s getting pepper sprayed.

Here was my plan: quietly unlock the door, throw it open with one hand out ready to pepper spray whoever’s in there and has great taste in hip hop. The other hand will be ready to dial 911. Lock clicked, placed my keys in my purse, keyed 911 on my phone with my left thumb hovering over the dial button. Pepper spray ready, I threw open the door.

First thing I noticed was the disco ball. That was not hanging from the ceiling when I left. Second thing, the orange couch. I loved it, but it wasn’t mine. Third thing, my cat, Wiggles, sitting on said couch like a person would, in the middle of taking a rip off a bong that was literally the same size as him.

So far from normal I couldn’t find normal on a goddamn map.

My pepper spray clattered to the floor.

“What the fuck?!”

I said it. Wiggles said it. Well, coughed it as he nearly dropped the green bong. The goat that stood in front of him caught the teetering glass cylinder in his horns.

“Good catch, Chuck,” Wiggles said to the goat.

“No, seriously, what the fuck?!” I yelled.

Wiggles looked back at me. “Uh Oh….” Appropriately, the song changed to “Scenario” by Tribe Called Quest. The cat stared at me. I stared at the cat. ‎Phife Dawg flowed on the track. Wiggles snapped (I still don’t understand how) and the music stopped, the goat disappeared, as did the disco ball. The couch, too, was replaced with my boring beige free couch. It was my house again. Wiggles flipped from his seated position to a more standard four-legged standing position, tilted his head and let out a perfectly normal, “Meow?”