That Dixie Cup holder; avocado green plastic, is still screwed into the wall beside the tall pantry cupboard. The one closet to the sink, which for the record, I finally fixed. No more dripping in the night. I thought I'd go (further) mad with the drip, drip, drip, drip.
I've resigned to the fact that I won't be making apple pies this Fall. I'll settle for corn relish and Lady Rose pickles.
The thing about Jesus and Mary. Are they smoking weed or a Camel? Potheads claim the plant was here and used as stated in the good book of the Father, Son and Holy Ghost. But that's not your point I am pondering. I mean you are correct. Who is in charge of this place, this planet, this universe. Seems the humans can't decide and trouble-she's-a-brewing all over the place. Sad and angry people. Lonely souls, lost and forgotten and brutalized and beaten down.
To magnify all this spiritual confusion we've got souvenir icons and crosses and symbols and tchotchkes made in China, trimmed in faux gold, sitting on car dashboards and hanging from rear-view mirrors. They sit on bedside tables and around skinny necks and grace the mantles of hopeful homes. Do you really think a key chain can save you? That's the miracle Currie. That we are all still walking and able to function even though we settle to believe in something that can't be proven. Whipped like unruly work horses in the field. I believe you are on to something. Keep going.
I'm having a bad day. I am sad and still hopeless in everything. The potatoes should be good. I planted them a bit late, but the quality of eyes. Amazing!
Can't shake the memory of him hating me so. My. Even the dirt under my nails is cleaner than his filthy attacks on my emotions. He was relentless. Vicious. The meanest person I ever met. I wish I could forget his words.
Tonight's dreams better be in technicolour cause I need some happy to fill me up. Which God is in charge anyway? You see. The world has a problem. None of us can decide.
Love The Plant Keeper
(Read the whole story here)