Tuesday, June 10, 2008

Running Away To Join The Circus....Or Somesuch

To have and to hold,
For better or for worse,
For richer or for poorer,
In sickness and in health......Got it. No problem.

I know it was thirty seven years ago and I know my memory ain't what it used to be BUT---

I don't remember ANYTHING being mentioned on that fateful, long ago day about lawn mower maintenance,
or greasy spark plugs buried in tractor bowels and covered in black, oily gunk,
or fuel filters,
or "How many cylinders?" [How the hell would I know?]

Isn't that one of the reasons we promise to love and cherish, 'til death do us part, a person with a beard, who belches with impunity, thinks flatulence is funny, possibly even snores? Specifically so we won't have to deal with that crap?

I thought I was marrying a man; that I would be his cherished helpmate, his confidante, his friend........It all started out so romantically......with candlelight and wine, laughter and soft music, and the whole spark plug and mower maintenance issue was cleverly airbrushed in the folds of the magic.

But then, with frightening speed, you find yourself having the birthday that starts with a Six and ends with an Oh---Oh my! Harsh reality sets in. And you realise that you are actually married to The Man's house, and to The Man's big garden, and to The Man's garage---full of tools, many of which have not had their protective dust coat disturbed in decades.

You become the scary lady before whom spiders and daddy-long-legs flee in terror when she ventures into their elaborate web cities in the dark, infrequently visited corners of that same garage, in search of some tool she knows The Man owns but damned if she knows where he keeps it.

I had an epiphany today when I came inside, dripping sweat and smudged with spark-plug-grease and tears.

I don't want to be a house-sitter;
an inept and grease smeared changer of spark plugs;
for a lawn mower that sputters and inexplicably dies;
Don't want to be the wielder of wrenches,
the fretter over pool chemicals,
the glassy eyed wanderer of Home Depot aisles, searching searching for fuel filters and spark plugs, and oh! don't forget the replacement sprinkler head!
Don't want to be the administrator of last rites to terminally ill computers.

If The Man is never here.

I want my man back, and if he's too busy to return soon I may have to pack my toothbrush and my sewing projects in my backpack and hitch hike out of here to parts unknown.

16 comments:

riseoutofme said...

Don't be silly Molly ... you'll never fit ALL the sewing projects in a backpack .... I'll send you a suitcase.

You're having a great week too, huh?

Anonymous said...

I think I'd feel entirely the same. I say just go!

meggie said...

Oh oh, are you OK??
Clearly you are not!
Would you like to come to Oz for a holiday, & your could snub your nose at the OC, in his cold North?
Would love to host you!
Hugs & commiserations!


And?bugger the lawnmowers!!

Brooke - Little Miss Moi said...

Dear molly. Are you going to explore parts unknown with the man, or are you going to discover your own unknown? Whichever way, good luck... it's sure to be an adventure

jkhenson said...

Oh, Molly, here's and hoping all is better today!!

jkhenson said...

oops, my comment should say "here's hugs and hoping..." sorry

StitchinByTheLake said...

I hate all things related to tools and spark plugs so my heart goes out to you. And besides all the stuff they do so you don't have to do it when they're home, you have to miss the dirty socks and "what's for dinner" that indicates there's a man in the house. Sorry it's been a bad week - I say hire a yard man! Blessings,

thailandchani said...

Completely with you on this. There was a time when I felt sort of bad about being single. Now I'm beginning to relish it - and be rather grateful for it. When those things need to be done that you mention, there's always some stray guy around who needs ten bucks.

Thimbleanna said...

Oh, Golly Miss Molly (sorry!) Now, take a deep breath and be careful what you wish for LOL. There's pros and cons to either situation -- which causes more pain -- spiders and sparkplugs or supervising and complaining??? Hey -- maybe you need a visit to see your sister to cheer you up! ;-)

Tanya Brown said...

I feel for you. We've all had those days, of course. Days when if a traveling circus came to town and was accepting job applications, we'd pack our toothbrush and quietly say "don't mind if I do".

I think you have a particularly hard time of it, though, with this indefinite holding down of the fort. Is taking a vacation an option? I don't remember whether The Bean is high school age or college age, but if it's the latter, surely he can make sure the cats are wound and the milk bottles are put out on the stoop. For awhile, at least. Let the grass grow high. The neighbors will appreciate you all the more when you return.

Pam said...

Ach, if you joined a circus you'd end up having to fix the vans or mend the tent. I go with the visit-Rise suggestion.

Birdydownunder said...

ah Molly the BluePrint of Life we all have in our teen years.
I can only say, its the bad days that make the good days better. Hang in there. btw I have sent you an email, and not sure if I used the correct email addy. So could you check them all. Take your mind off things.
oh forgot to say you could always cut the grass with your sewing scissors. Imagine each blade was a hair on his head roflol

Stomper Girl said...

I'm like that with Fixit. I could probably do that stuff but I REALLY DON'T WANT TO. Plus no point keeping a dog and barking yourself. Sounds like your dog has too long a leash.

Ali Honey said...

If you go to visit Meggie, come to my place next.( it's a genuine invitation)

Or why don't you let slip that you are getting a little man, a handy man, in to help you with some of those chores! ( perhaps a toy boy or stud muffin! )

Wanderlust Scarlett said...

Does he rub your back and feet? Or bring you meals in bed, or help cook them with you at least... or bring you flowers?
Does he whisper things in your ear that make your heart race and your cheeks blush?
Does he open doors for you and brag about you to other people?
When you cry does he hold you till you've stopped?
Does he hold your hand?
Does he stare at you with hunger in his eyes when you've walked out in a lovely dress or jammies or nothing at all?
Does he remember all of the important dates?
Does he know all about you, what you love and can't stand?
Does he listen when you speak?

Is he your best friend?

Yah.

I can't find him either.

I'll drive.


Scarlett & Viaggiatore

heartinsanfrancisco said...

I actually did try to run away and join the circus when I was a child, only it was a traveling carnival but let's not quibble.

My father came to fetch me, and then I was soundly spanked even as visions of Maggie Tolliver riding behind her father on a white horse danced in my head. (I was pretty sure he'd never read Mill on the Floss.)

Perhaps we could join with some travelers in Ireland. I said "we," didn't I? Ok, I'm in.