The Angst

I am feeling considerable angst today. And I feel like you would like to hear about three reasons for the angst.

1.



You all should know what this face means by now. Let's just say, I am glad for the weekend.

And I did a lot of therapeutic yardwork tonight.

2. Figs
About a month ago, I thought it was about to be fig time. The plan this year is to harvest the fig crop from my giant fig tree, then my mom and I would make another batch of world-famous Tyrant Family Fig Preserves. It's an age-old tradtion from my mom's mom, to my mom, to me.

Also, my uncle has eaten the figs and he has spent a lot of time in China and Germany, therefore the claim of world-famous is perfectly legal and legit.

My mom and I also planned to enter a jar of this year's fig preserves in the State Fair. Last year, there seemed to be only one entry that swept the Fig category. Which makes sense, if only one person entered figs. So, we figure we've got a pretty good shot at a ribbon, and possibly the coveted blue ribbon.

We play to win.

We made fig preserves the second year that I was in my house that came with a giant fig tree. Somewhere around 50 jars of figs. That's a lot.

The next year, all the droughtedness did not yield a good fig crop. So, one year without figs.

This year, we are back on the fig bandwagon. So when I saw that the figs were getting close to pickin' time, I sent out the alert to my mom to get ready for figs. After you pick them, you have to preserve them pretty much by the next day or they're just not any good.

We are serious about quality figs in our preserves.

Well, the first few figs got ripe, but it wasn't very many. Not worth my time to get dirty in the tree. So, I let the birds have them. They were gone pretty quick, anyway. I figure if I extend the first fig branch, if you will, to the birds and give them first dibs on the figs, the rest of the figs are mine, fair and square.

Then it rained for 108 days. The figs need sun to ripen. So, I watched the figs. And the rain. And I waited. Every day I checked on the figs. But . . . no more ripe figs, yet.

Now I've got a tree full of smallish to medium-sized green figs and I am obsessed with watching them every single day. I'm afraid that if I take my eye off of them for one day, I'll miss the window of opportunity to pick them for our State Fair Fig Plan '07.

I take my fig farming job very seriously.

It happens fast. One day they are green, then they start turning yellow, then in a day or so they are brown and ready to pick . . . and the birds know it. They are quick, like the figs.

It is possible that I could check on the figs one day, see that they are close to being ready, go to work the next day, then get home to like, three ripe figs and a whole lot of fig shrapnel from where the birds had a fig feast.

Figs are stressful.

I have to be ready to jump into action at a moment's notice. My mom has to be ready to fire up the stove and giant pots of water to start cooking figs.

Basically, the figs are in charge. Indefinitely. And I'm stressed out.

3. A scary movie
I've had a scary movie sitting on my coffee table for over a week, and I am too scared to watch it.

The house rule is no scary movie watching at home, alone, in the dark, at night. Because watching a scary movie at home, alone, in the dark, at night is an open invitation for whatever I am watching in the movie . . . to eat me later when I least expect it.

If I watch a scary movie at night, at home, alone, in the dark, there's a good chance I'll spend my first few hours in bed that night . . . listening. With angst. I suddenly develop amazing hearing after a bout with a scary movie. I can suddenly hear everycreak, moan, rattle, knock, whisper, potential footsteps . . . that might be going on in the house. In the dark. At night.

But, I still like scary movies. And they are better in the dark. You know, for ambience. You don't really get the full scary movie affect if you watch a scary movie in broad daylight.

So, I have angst because I really want to watch this movie, but I'm home, alone, and it's dark. Outside. And I am scared of this whole situation.

I had to wait until I was finished moving the waterhose around the yard before I could even consider the possiblity of watching the movie. If I started the movie, then had to go outside in the dark to shut off the hose, I would quite possibly simply blow up from the angst that would be involved in that predicament.

There's nothing stopping me from watching it now.

Except for . . . The Angst.

C.T.