Procrastinating 101

As is typical with me these days, I only make time to blog when I have something really important to do.

I made it back to Ontario on Friday. The plane was delayed because of the nasty weather that hit Ottawa on Friday afternoon. The headwinds were quite strong and the plane was 30 minutes late. My Dad picked me up and drove me to the farm. I was knackered so I went straight to bed.

The next morning was all about cleaning up. The house was in great shape, but the yard needed to be raked. Friday's high winds and rain knocked most of the leaves off the trees and my Dad wanted the interment area to be neat and tidy. My sister, brother-in-law, and neice arrived at about 11:30 and they all headed inside. I was left to finish working as always seems to be the case. It's actually quite funny how some people can avoid work so craftily. I don't know how you can sit by the woodstove drinking a Mike's Hard Lemonade and having a chat while someone is outside working. I digress, but will digress again later.

The interment ceremony was very nice. The funeral director asked if I wanted to carry the cremains and I agreed without really thinking. He placed them into my hands and my Dad started crying. I realized that what I should have said was, "Not on your life am I going to hold the ashes of my mother, you psychopath." They were quite heavy. Heavier than I thought they would be. I looked down at them and realized that all that remained of my mother's body was wrapped up in a blue satin bag and that I was actually carrying it across the lawn. It was sickening, but not traumatic. It made me realize that, for the most part, I've come to terms with what happened.

We intered the cremains and laid some roses. We hugged each other and then went inside. I ate a big piece of apple crisp with milk on top. The sun had come out during the ceremony so I decided that I'd do some work. I got changed into my work clothes and headed out to stack wood. I filled up the truck three times and made two neat piles by the door of my Dad's house. That should last him a while. I expect that now that the precedent has been set, every time that I visit my father I will now have wood stacking detail. It was amazing, yet again, that I did all the work myself while the others watched television. I marvelled at their ability to come and check on me exactly as the last pieces of wood were being placed on the pile. I didn't care too much other than the fact that I kept thinking that this would go on forever and that it will someday be my job to take care of the farm and that I will invariably have to do it by myself.

We had turkey dinner on Saturday night and, again, my fears for the future continued to percolate. The kitchen was a complete disaster and so I loaded the dishwasher. I did get a little bit of help loading it, but there were still a lot of dishes to hand wash. My father fell asleep in a chair and my sister, after putting the baby to bed, decided to watch television. Now, I know that taking care of a baby all day is hard work, but cleaning up this gigantic mess wasn't my idea of a relaxing way to spend an evening either. I would have much preferred to have not raked leaves all morning, stacked wood all afternoon, and then washed dishes all evening. Playing with a baby sounds like much more fun to me especially if it allows you to lie on the couch ten minutes after you put her down for the night.

Anyway, my brother-in-law lost interest in the dishes when the composting needed attention, and made the excuse that there wasn't enough dishsoap. I turned the bottle upsidedown and balanced it delicately while the last of the liquid soap slid down inside of the bottle. I dug my hand into the sinkful of potato skins, egg shells, broccoli stems, and soggy breadcrumbs and took care of the composting. I washed the sink and by then gravity had helped salvage enough soap to wash the dishes. By then, too, I was all by myself in the kitchen and I resigned myself to washing up the stacks of pots, trays, and bowls alone.

How hard done by am I? What a whinging moaner! It wasn't all bad and I did manage to finish with enough time to watch an episode of the Professional Poker Tour on tv. My Dad thanked me for all my work and I sat smugly knowing that I put in a good day's work.

The next morning, I caught a ride with my sister's family to Ajax. The ride ended at the Pickering GO Train station and I was left to fend for myself. I was tired and a little bummed out about my vacation being over and having to return to real life again, so I fit right in on the GO Train. I didn't let the horror of the commute bother me. I took the train to Union Station and then took the subway home.

This week is all about finding a job. I need to stop procrastinating and get back to the task at hand. With luck, my posting will be more frequent.