When I lived in Texas during my junior high years, my mom had this houseplant, probably a philodendron. We have had variations of this plant in the house throughout my childhood. There was a point in time where every morning a section of this plant would be detached from the mother plant, and it would lay, there, on the floor, ready to face its untimely death. My mom would walk in on those mornings and say, “Who is messin’ with my plant. This keeps happening! Who’s doing it?” All the kids chimed in practically in chorus. “Not me!” After what seemed like weeks of this, pieces of the mother plant broken off and moved to parts of the kitchen, my mom enraged every time at seeing these sad little specimens, and the mother plant slowly losing all her kiddlins. Then, alas, one normal morning, a specimen appeared partially pulled underneath the oven.
Mom surprised said, “What in the world?” Then upon closer observation, she decided to pull out the oven and see why this plant part was pulled under the oven and why her children would do such a thing. Low and behold, behind the oven was a hole, a hole that had obviously been created my a small animal. There near the hole, was more evidence, more plant specimens. That squirrel, rat, or opposum had played a cruel trick on us that day and many days before. (I bet it was behind the wall laughing hysterically and all of us kids.) My mama, sealed that wretched hole. She got the last laugh. The villian had been found. Plot foiled at last.
Speakin’ of my mama, I love her to the moon and back. She loves me more than any human I know. She gave me my name and allowed me to be my unique creative self (against her better judgment) at times. Thanks mom for letting me insist on my rad hair in fourth grade. That straight-no-bang-parted-at-the-side-pulled-back-in-barrettes look was what my little heart desired. All my friends looked rad with that hair style, me-round-faced-Joy, not so much. But mama, you let me wear my hair like that because you knew I wanted it. You bought me barrettes and let me go through that phase. (I also went through a phase where I chewed the inside of my bottom lip until there was a nice, what looked like a tumor, on the inside of my mouth. Yeah, yuck. And a brilliant hair-chewing phase. I’m glad that’s over. So are you, right? There’s nothing worse than watching an adult chew their hair. This might be awesome fodder for a SNL skit though.)
So back to my mama, love her, but there’s one thing I don’t love. Her ability to lose her keys. It’s like her keys had an evil mind of their own, and they play tricks on her. They’d laugh hysterically from the crack in the couch or from the pocket of a jacket. They’d giggle, meanwhile, the rest of the family was interrogating her, “Mom, where did you have them last. What were you wearing?” All of us in frantic key search mode because we were late and needed to get somewhere but couldn’t leave because…the keys had gone missing again. Evil keys. The ebb and flow of The Lost and Found Keys was a game we played constantly. (Sidenote: I’ve solved this problem as an adult in my own home, because I hated this game so much. I have a hook where I hang my keys upon entering the house. Obsessive? Maybe.)
My house has lost its innocence. After 11 months of having 16 solar panels atop our home, we are still not able to use them. Still. I feel at a loss for how to remedy this. Architects, surveyors, County representatives, Building inspectors, representatives from complaint organizations and 11 months later, it still feels like we’re lost. Hopefully this terrible limbo we have been stuck in for way too long will come to an end soon. I don’t want just any ending, I want a happy ending. I want my home to be happy again. Right now, it’s just not itself. It’s been taking the blame for something that it didn’t do. The Zero Energy and the County have been playing tricks on us. I hope we have the last laugh.
Keep your head up and listen to Stubborn Love today Joy. You’re stubborn and you love. Hang in there. To the rest of you, you hang in there too.
Until next Friday. Love you loves.
Gastric Bypass Update:
I’m so enjoying shopping for different sizes again. I’m down 5 sizes. It does feel good.
Why You Keep Judging Me? 