Three Steps Forward

One Step Back

So I went to the farmer’s market yesterday. In my car. Stopped off for a visit with my lovely friend who is Going Through It. I noted my own posture – leaning on the car door while we talked.

The driver’s seat was like an armchair after that. I drove to Gerardi’s. I bought some corn, tomatoes, peaches, watermelon, and a few other things. I came home and lugged it all inside, and took my time putting it away.

I pressure-cooked chicken and rice, and then today I ran out of steam. I had plans – chili, a baked pasta, salmon. I’ll have to take those one day at a time.

Last night I was chatting with my friend who’s known me since time immemorial – since before my younger daughter was born. We were talking about what it takes to fully provide for ourselves. As women, we can provide for ourselves – but that doesn’t leave a lot of time for our art or our writing. Even more if there are children involved, and their care, and their upbringing.

I am really good at shopping and cooking and providing. I am good at dealing with laundry and cleaning – I outsource those – and yet that leaves no time for anything outside of my day-to-day job. No time for creativity.

That IS the point. I was thinking about Catherine Dickens. She raised ten Dickens children, had to deal with the whole Hans Christian Andersen of it all, and then Charles Dickens went off with a young actress – she was eighteen and he was forty-five.

And Catherine was disparaged – Charles scolded his children for visiting her. His ten children, who she bore. According to Wikipedia:

While on her deathbed in 1879, Catherine gave her collection of Dickens’ letters to her daughter Kate, telling her to “Give these to the British Museum – that the world may know [Charles] loved me once.”

She made his work possible. She made his work possible. And she was cast off.

Tomorrow I am making chili and a baked pasta. And then I’m going to have therapy and write. I can’t discredit anyone who’s caring for me. I need the care too much.