Last weekend, with the end of the semester being so close that I could almost taste the freedom waiting on the other side of six hours of testing, a couple friends and I took ourselves out for the new Mad Max movie. Have you seen it? If so, I’d love to hear what you thought of it. I had no idea what I was getting myself in for, spent a fair amount of time muttering, “good lord, this is stressful,” definitely threw my arms around one of my friends at least once, and I enjoyed it. On the way home, my art historian and librarian friend and I talked about how our skills would be of absolutely no use in the motor-head, dystopian desert world shown in Mad Max: Fury Road. I mean, they only need one guitarist and my basic guitar skills lean far more heavily towards acoustic folk than towards battle-inspiring metal. She said she’d probably end up as what the movie called a “breeder.” I figured that with my well-endowed mammary glands I’d end up living hooked up to pumps with the woman who produced the “mother’s milk” that grown men and women drink. These are obviously not jobs we want for ourselves. They would be grand wastes of our master’s degrees.
I saw my mechanical limits more realistically this past weekend. After a school year of working hard and frequently seeing the rewards of my labor, I was reminded that my creative, empathetic, care-giving, team-building, and leadership skills can be absolutely useless, like when I am trying to figure out why my weedwacker stops spinning as soon as it touches plant matter (or, occasionally, air, for all I can tell) or why my two-year-old solar electric fence unit now clicks away without putting out any juice. I pulled out the weedwacker’s manual, watched a couple youtube videos, and did some basic maintenance to the machine that didn’t improve its function at all. I went to Lowe’s later in the afternoon and found myself staring somewhat longingly at the empty spot where their reel mower would have been. I think I would have a better chance of figuring out what is wrong with gears I can see than with the mysterious depths of motors and engines. The local hardware store is open again today after the holiday weekend, so I’ll have someone who knows what they are doing look at the weedwacker. It is so good to have that option. For now, my garden beds are almost all weeded and ready for the seedlings Devin and I started a couple months ago, but meadow grass grows high in the aisles between the beds and I’m not planting anything until I know that the fence is working to protect what is planted. I still don’t know what needs to happen with the electric fence unit. I’ll figure something out and hope that doesn’t mean buying a new one.
In more positive news, I tried making fruit and mint popsicles from the mint that tried to grow in my garden beds, the leftover fruit I got when I helped clean up after the department graduation luncheon, and some local honey. Thanks again for popsicle molds, Rachel. The experiment turned out decently. The color and texture is a bit strange, the contents separated more than I like, and the taste is summery fresh. Popsicle making–another completely useless skill post-apocalypse. Didn’t stop me from eating two yesterday. I think I’ll keep messing with the “recipe.” I’ve been living on donated food for the past week or so, between the leftover fruit and veg from graduation, the perishables Mom and Dad gave me before they started their month-long cross country trek, and the fajita and taco meat leftover from the Wellness Center retreat. I’m thankful for all the donations. Despite all of my grand intentions when I prepped so much food over Christmas break, I still ate out at least once or twice a week during the semester–some of busy days it was so much easier to pick up warm, delicious food than to heat up my own–and my monthly food budget is a bit stretched.
Hope your weekend went grandly, whether you had two or three days of it. Here’s to living in the here and now, where this non-mechanically-inclined woman can find other ways to thrive. Should the apocalypse come, remember me.
All my love,