Pig and farm report
my son drove me to town to find Maria Sanchez who runs the little Lopez Family Farm fruit stand on the corner next to the sad furniture store I was so excited and happy to see her that I bought an entire flat of strawberries thinking about ruby red jam I washed the berries then put them in the fridge I truly don’t know if I have the energy to make jam right now I am exhausted with frustration and anger and worry I’ll probably make a small batch of no pectin jam today then freeze the rest for smoothies and try again later
I argued with my son last night which made me sad he wanted to go to Seattle to photograph the mayhem which after all is his life’s work but I told him if he went he would have to stay there at his girlfriend’s house for two weeks to make sure he doesn’t pick up the virus from being in a huge body of people when the plague is still alive and well and waking back up as cities begin to ease restrictions maybe you think I’m being unreasonable it is clear my son thought so but my self preservation instinct is very strong I have not survived abuse and addiction and poverty and mental illness and 40 years of back breaking factory work to be brought down by a virus fuck that noise as we used to say back in the day fuck. that. noise.
I continue to work in the geranium hospital which is what I have renamed the redrum kitchen repotting these fragrant stupid plants that I love I still haven’t painted but I can’t afford it right now shopping through instacart has pretty much depleted my play money I am tired of my own damn cooking of not being able to run to the store every couple of days I continue to work in the garden weeding watering and flinging slugs with a stick every morning waiting for that taste of tomato heart that signals summer and all things good and all things well and all things joyful
today is the anniversary of the Tulsa race massacre which is something to think about to remember to consider with and to hold