July 15, 2011
Today I was forced to accept an unfortunate truth.
One I have been avoiding for at least the last ten years.
I am too old for more children.
Wanting more children and having them are, I have realized, two different things.
This afternoon, a former student-cum-mother-of-two-and-her-RCMP-husband stopped in to see me.
They're here on vacation.
Two adorable children in tow, one four years old, the other just about two.
Watching them, especially being around all their energy, made me conclude that I really am too old and settled in my life at this point to contemplate raising another child.
Honestly, I couldn't keep up.
Plus, I have four already, eight if you count the pets and ten in you include my parents.
Blessed, I am.
However, there was always this niggling, persistent thought at the back of my consciousness about having another child.
And it grew exponentially when I met Stephen.
Until I realized he was the "another child."
Seems I am to be content with all I have, and wait for the day I am blessed with grandchildren.
And THAT had better be a long, long, long wait, thank you very much!
Rather than get up and rush into work this morning, I decided to take the morning off to work outside in the gardens.
I couldn't manage another afternoon in the library, being teased and tormented by the glorious weather outside.
Again, knowing that the full blast heat and humidity will return tomorrow, I was compelled to but the desire for vitamin D and fresh air to get outside.
Moving the hosta that had virtually disappeared underneath some other large bush was the first item on the agenda.
The poor thing was practically weeping with appreciation when I finally managed to get it out of the ground.
Where to put it is an entirely different issue.
Stephen can sort that out.
The big ticket item on my morning gardening agenda was to begin the long process of getting rid of the spearmint.
At first, I was enthralled with having spearmint in our back garden.
Spearmint tea at the ready when ever my little heart desired.
But. . .
The last couple of summers have revealed an ugly truth about spearmint.
Its a dominatrix.
And there is simply not enough room on our premises for more than one dominatrix, thank you very much.
Eternal domination is part of the spearmint manifesto.
Everything planted anywhere near it is annihilated.
And what is still clinging to life is on the verge of extinction as the spearmint continues its rampage through our garden.
Not.
Any.
More.
I was in the backyard this morning hauling the almost as tall as I am stalks of spearmint out by its long, tentacled roots.
The wheelbarrow is now well past overflowing with exiled spearmint.
And everything else I hauled out of the ground yesterday.
There's still a lot more to go.
I'll keep some of it.
In a pot.
But never again will I plant spearmint in the ground unless I have enough wide open space to allow its unfettered domination.
So, if you have a wide, open space and you want it covered with the most dominating, invasive plant you can manage, spearmint is your new best friend.
But if you want a garden with variety, color, where everyone gets along well with everyone else and no one feels the need for complete control and domination, you should stay as far away from spearmint as possible.
And whatever we do now will not be enough.
We anticipate that next summer and probably the one after that we'll still be battling with the spearmint.
Because apparently, I don't have enough battles in my life.
Even the gardens want to fight back.
Dominate.
Twice in one week I've been wrong about a movie.
I am beginning to doubt my ability to assess a film at a glance.
First, Horrible Bosses.
And last night, Bridesmaids.
Now, wrong in terms of thinking the movie would be a complete waste of time.
One of those this-is-time-I'll-never-get-back-kinds of movies.
Neither was a waste of time.
But they're not Oscar worthy films either.
I am a film snob.
But I also love a good laugh, and both films certainly meet that criteria.
Seeing the movie wasn't the most interesting part of the evening, however.
The Harry Potter line up to the other end of the mall. . .
THAT was interesting.
All the people who wanted the distinction of being among the first of Fredericton's viewers to see the last installment of what is arguably the most successful book and film series ever.
Whether you like the books and films or not, you have to at least acknowledge their success.
I want to see the last film, too.
As do Stephen, Mer, Keith and Em.
But none of us wanted to sacrifice a good night's sleep seeing it.
I'd prefer to know that I was going to stay awake to see the end of it.
Not like the fanatics at the top of the line.
Who arrived at 6.00 am.
The movie started at midnight.
I couldn't imagine a movie I would want to see SO badly that I would wait 18 hours in line to ensure I got a good seat.
Four theaters were showing the film.
All sold out.
So about 800 tickets.
Of course, the grand diva herself was working last night, positioned at the very top of the line up, with water jugs and plastic cups at the ready.
An attempt, no doubt, to ensure that the line up lunatics didn't dehydrate and rain down a mega million dollar lawsuit upon Empire Theaters.
Later, they had her running around with pretzel bite and New York Fries samples, hoping to tease and tantalize the appetites of the midnight-manic-movie goers.
And at some point she was running around with a trolley full of goodies into the theaters themselves to further entice the patrons to indulge in a fat-sugar-sodium fest.
That's my girl.
Peddling wares to the tired masses until 3.30 this morning.
Mischief managed Mer.
Title Lyric: Domination by Pantera
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