Friday, June 1, 2007

An hour in our yard

I was going to put a little para (paragraph) in here, titled Arbor, based on thoughts I was having earlier today, involving my husband, metaphor, rather sweet, but I am annoyed at present and unable, uninspired, not inclined to bother, or think those thoughts. Ironically enough, because of what he did to my arbor. He cemented the last side in, dug the hole himself, oh so proud, "look at the job I did". Ugh, there is a reason I insisted on digging all the holes myself, and on being present when he filled them. How carefully I dug out the other leg, on the side with the wisteria. And now here this last one is, the other side of the wisteria, I see her roots cut through by shovel, and the ones not cut off in midair, are filled with cement. "This is just the top" he says "the ones at the bottom are fine". But I can see the ones at the bottom, very clearly in my mind, and they look, just the same as these do, cut off, and/or cemented in. (I had told him it was very important that I dig the holes, that the roots not be disturbed, that I would dig deeply but in a small area). I go to close the gate of the arbor, and it doesn't close, the whole thing is off, not level, and the distances between the legs or feet or whatever they are called are out of line. After he did the one leg with cement I had made sure we had leveled it off, when we poured the cement in the next one, I had made a big deal about it. But he poured the cement in the second to last without me, and then dug and cemented the final. I am annoyed that he did this, no reason to, and I bought the arbor for the wisteria, that is the reason we cemented it down, it blew over in the wind, and was uprooting the wisteria. The depth of my agravation is not, that he did this, it is that first of all he didn't listen to me, just hears "blah blah blah" when I talk, so doesn't consider, or take into account, what I say; and secondly that when I said, "hey you cemented this in. It's going to die" and" hey, the gate wont close the whole thing is crooked now. Why didn't you wait for me to do it with you?" he responded with "we'll just tear the whole thing down, and throw it away! Go get a new one, okay!", to which I said "that isn't what I meant" to which he said "well I don't know what else I can do, I can't do anything right" to which I said "if you would just listen to me every once in awhile". I can't stand that he gets all extreme in his reactions, when I get disappointed by the way something turns out, when he totally disregarded my request. I mean, how hard is it to follow, "let me do it myself"? It isn't asking that much of a person not to do it for you, behind your back, and mess up your project, is it? If he would just say "I am sorry, I should have waited for you like you asked, but I really thought I was doing you a favor, and I thought I was being careful, but now I do see I cut, and cemented some of the roots in, hopefully it will live anyway". But no, he never says that, gets all crazy, like I am killing him, telling him he is a horrible person. But how am I supposed to feel? How am I supposed to take it, when I make requests, say things are important to me, and then they are totally unthought of, disregarded, discarded if they were ever taken in? Don't I get to be upset about that, and point it out, and that things are not as good as they could have easily been, if I had been regarded? Why does he get to play the victim? Act like I am being exacting and harsh, when I am not those things, and not being that way. Am I supposed to smile and say thank you, even as I see the harm done to my plant, and see that the arbor door is never going to close again? It seems unfair. I didn't want him to do it, said I would do it, said it was very important that I do it, and why. And I did that because I know he doesn't see those things, he sees the end goal, getting it done, he doesn't see the roots, he doesn't get down on his hands and knees with a little spade. He doesn't stop to check and recheck the alignment, and whether or not it is level. No,... and now hopefully my plant wont die, and I shall have to decide that I don't mind the gate not closing. I shall have to see what is better about it this way, or it will forever bother me. I shall have to make it a metaphor, not something symbolizing a husband who never listens to his wife, but a gate, that can't be closed, so can't be locked, must always stand slightly open, inviting people to walk through, as the closed gate never did, we always walked around it.

minutes later in yard-
working on story stuff
Feel the idiot again. I was out filming my plants, and moving a few surprises around (as in, "where did you come from? There is no room for you here. Why don't I put you over there?"). Thank goodness, I left in some of those "are these, or aren't these weeds?". Because they weren't weeds. I was trying to film a bee on a flower, but not doing a very good job, as the bee, is apparently the only one around this year, and desperately trying to service all the flowers. I was down low, squatting among the plants, and I realized this would be Koji's view, that it would be much different from Mikiyoshi's. DUH. I must have known this; how could I not? But I never thought of it so distinctly or clearly before. I saw his view. If I decide to tell the story through his eyes, it does look different, not just emotionally, but physically. I am an idiot, for not looking at the garden through his eyes before, not from above, but from underneath the flowers, and among the foliage. As I sat there looking with his eyes, imagining his body walking through it (finding little pathways between plants but always brushing up against the leaves and petals, scents being released), it was all more wonderful and amazing, more vast and beautiful. No wonder he loves Mikiyoshi's garden so. It scares me that such an important detail hadn't sunken in, I know I thought of it, I know I wrote "things look different to Koji because he is smaller", but I didn't see it, feel the difference, till today. It is not a little thing, it is great, tremendously enormous. And the absence of, my taking it in sooner, makes me, a great idiot. I could easily find it proof that I don't know what I am doing, well enough to go on and do, but I like his eyes so, now that I have found them, I want to look through them, again and again.
Tromping along, on my own rambling feet, I shall wander, with wonder; till by and by, you shall come along, and we will walk together on, you leading me further in, and me bringing you farther out, through flowers, meadows, rivers, woods; and I shall see it all through your eyes, they will reside in mine, and I will open my hand to you, and give to you, time; we will know each others hearts (strand through strand, woven, from start).
and By and by, we shall sit together, side by side; and watch the pale flowers glow in the twilight, and I will not be afraid, though night approaches, and brings darkness with it, for you are with me. And somehow that makes me feel safe, the sound of your breathing, for even when I can't see, there is something eternal in it, the connection between you and me, and I see farther, further, then I ever thought, I could see.

I didn't mean to rhyme, but then couldn't help it, but didn't bother to keep it up, I could sit here and either work on taking it out, or working it in, but there is no reason to, so

(ugh, my son refused to tell me whether it should be- between you and me, or -between you and I. Said he didn't care, and couldn't imagine anyone else would either. I said "I care", he said "so". and closed his bedroom door. Bob however just walked in and sat down, and is eating something very loud and crunchy. Left the TV and everything. I guess I have been on the computer too long)

still not enjoying my cold. Did use it as an excuse to rent movies. Pan's Labyrinth was too dark for me, but it was interesting when I watched it with the director commentary. He used words like echo, and rhythm, and concentric circles. Words I am quite fond of.

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