A great/tragic weekend

This is a Southeast Asian red-clawed crab. It isn’t here to depict my mood this fine day. It illustrates something a little farther along in the posting, which for some reason seems really long today.

For the first time in a very long time, Monday morning felt great today. That could be because I was up before it was, so I felt I had a tactical advantage.

I spent the better part of the weekend at the computer, mastering two years of GST by deciphering, recording and wrangling, with receipts and bills pilied up around me on the desk, sidetable, rabbit food bin, file boxes and the floor. It wasn’t pretty, but when are taxes ever? I stayed there all day yesterday, all evening, the wee hours, and after watching The Two Coreys (I still don’t know who they are, but they seem very committed to saving their friendship) on A&E from 3 to 4 a.m. and doing a couple of Suduko squares, I got back at the computer and saw the morning sun come up over the car. I will file these #(!#&@#^@!!~ GST returns tonight. They are almost finished.

The weekend was packed with tons of things that weren’t taxes. I cut to little pieces a big ugly overgrown more-thorns-than-leaves rosebush in the backyard, and thus made more light for my vegetable patch, which is a patch, like two by four feet. I totally de-weeded it, dug it down, added black organic earth and some peat stuff I borrowed from Tracy, who doesn’t know it yet because her husband said I could have it (thank you Tracy!). Then I made little furrows and transplanted the carrots and beans I started in containers, as well as more carrots and a blend of organic lettuces.

I cut out lots of old cane from the raspberries, picked the end of the strawberries, and pulled lots of burrs and unattractive weeds. Those raspberries are going to be the largest haul we’ve ever had. I think Tessa’s idea of a country meadow in the backyard is working very well.

When I woke up Sunday morning I thought a truck had driven over me, backed up, popped a couple of wheelies and peeled out. I was completely shattered from the “I can’t keep my house tidy, but I can garden!” effort. That’ll teach me—next time it’s child labour.

Luka and Tessa went swimming. Luka is getting more and more confident in the water. Graydon and Luka spent Saturday afternoon at their Grandma and Grandpa’s, Graydon working with Grandpa on the yard, Luka playing with Grandma. Tessa and I cleaned the fish tank. Tessa bagged all her clothes for Goodwill, spent a night out with friends, then had a hasty dinner of feta fries (Greek poutine?!?) the next night with the same friends. The brainwave she brought home was how great it is to lie on the roof of your house at night and look at the stars. Sunday night her BF came over and they tried to get up on our garage roof, but decided wisely maybe it was better to do it with the aid of daylight.

Night offers to hide the less-than-graceful moves needed to get on a roof, but also makes it mighty difficult to see the nails and staples and bird doo-doo. Like everything in life, it’s a trade-off.

So the tragic element of the weekend? It happened Saturday night. Our second-most recent addition to the fish tank was a southeast Asian red clawed crab, chosen by Luka, and christened Crabby. He was by far the coolest dude in the tank, cooler even, declared Luka, than Froggie, who was a frog. After about 10 days, we couldn’t see Crabby in the tank. Rumours swirled that the biggest gourami ate him, or the loaches shared him as an appetizer (we never include Luka in these speculations). Graydon’s friend Tory told Luka that crabs like to bury themselves in the gravel and hide, so we stuck with that. After cleaning the tank that afternoon, and finding not even a molted leg, I was leaning to the DIY sushi theory.

Saturday night, 6Teen on the TV, Luka eating his ab-fave lasagna. I walk in, he stands up, the lasagna slides right off his plate onto the carpet. He bursts into tears. After we clear the food and the tears, he starts looking for a little game disk under the sofa. He stands up screeching, gripping his wrist, fingers splayed. His longest fingernail, which he uses like a multi-tool, is flipped right up and back, and he’s screaming in pain. I snapped it back and raced for the ice. That cleared up, and tears banished the second time, we both resume his search, me holding up the sofa-bed mechanism while he shines a little light under there. He gasps and jumps back, looking terrified. “Mummy! WHAT IS THAT?!?!?!” I look in his little light’s path and I see what he sees: Crabby. A perfect little mummified Crabby, looking just as pretty as he did in life, but dead. There is no consoling my little boy. The tears were literally splashing out of his eyes as he made a grab for my neck and didn’t let go. He buried his face and sobbed. I said that there was no way that the crying could stop, because it was too sad, and I carried him upstairs. He tried, on my bed with Tessa there, to stop crying and straighten up, but it was no use. We all laid there and talked about Crabby and how cute he was and what was he thinking when he took off out of the tank? Just when it seemed the worst had passed, Luka stared at his Pokemon pillowcase and saw the character that looks like a crab. He whipped his head away and flung another pillow on top of that one. Exhaustion won out, and little Lukie cried himself to sleep.

On Sunday Luka said he could now think of Crabby without having to cry. We looked up those crabs on the Internet and found that they are incredible escapre artists, and should actually be in a half-water, half-land tank. We’re going to give that some thought, and as Luka says, do “some planning” before we get another Crabby.

Can’t you see how a seven-year-old boy would be drawn to a critter like this?

So, another weekend, another week of summer ahead. And tomorrow we have our esteemed mom-to-be web editor Helen guest blogging on Because I Said So! Check in and say hi!


2 Responses

  1. I’m so sorry to hear about little Crabby. We had little African froggies in our tank when the kids were young and they loved them, but they too on occasion, escaped. Good luck in the planning for the next crab phase!!

  2. I still remember losing my first pets nic and pic my gold fish. And when my daughter Zoe lost her frogs she cried and cried for hours. Currently we have several fish one being a Louch the eel looking thing jumps out of the tank and has successfully scared myself and my husband.Maybe this is why fish tanks have lids.lol

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