Frost heaves

The Daffodils

I wandered lonely as a cloud
That floats on high o'er vales and hills,
When all at once I saw a crowd,
A host, of golden daffodils;
Beside the lake, beneath the trees,
Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.

Continuous as the stars that shine
And twinkle on the milky way,
They stretched in never-ending line
Along the margin of a bay:
Ten thousand saw I at a glance,
Tossing their heads in sprightly dance.

The waves beside them danced; but they
Out-did the sparkling waves in glee:
A poet could not but be gay,
In such a jocund company:
I gazed - and gazed - but little thought
What wealth the show to me had brought:

For oft, when on my couch I lie
In vacant or in pensive mood,
They flash upon that inward eye
Which is the bliss of solitude;
And then my heart with pleasure fills,
And dances with the daffodils.
--William Wordsworth

Welcome, Spring. Winter's parting tantrum left us a good 10 inches of snow last Monday and Tuesday, after a week of dreamy sunshine, and a cloudy, unsettled chill has lingered. I know, it'll pass. It always does.

Last week was hard. Damn hard. I had to do things I didn't want to do, didn't know how to do, didn't think I'd have the strength to do, and it wasn't just one thing but a slew of things, all tremendously draining. Tell my husband our marriage is over, and explain why, what happened, what's going to happen next (I hardly know that myself, but since I'm the one who opened this door, I'm supposed to take the lead). Nurse Maggie through a scary two days of illness. Wonder yet again what's the sense of living so remote from civilization, so isolated and vulnerable. Try to cobble together enough work to support us, then actually find uninterrupted time to work, which lately has meant staying up very late knowing the kids would be up by 6:30 or so. Try to figure out what's wrong with my computer, and why the DSL I'd breathlessly anticipated still isn't working after a week of troubleshooting. Thinking about any of it, I start feeling panicky. It's too close, and unresolved, and overwhelming.

Now I have to get back to daily life. Reestablish our routine, focus on work. I have so little energy to do anything. And another upheaval is coming this week as Antonio returns from Denver and tries to start a new life here. I can't do it for him, but I feel compelled to help, but I have to make and keep boundaries. It would be so easy to slip back, to shrink away from what I know will be difficult and perhaps even devastating, and part of me doesn't want to do this even though I know it'll be spiritual death, for both of us, if I don't. "Do what you know in your heart you need to do." Damn easier said than done, that's all I can say right now.