I Know a Lot (and No One Cares)

I am 55 years old. 

55 winters! 55 summers! 55 springs and autumns!

I've been little, I've been big. A teenager, and a young adult! 

I've been middle-aged, and now I'm moving into my seniority. 

I've had friends. I've had lovers. I've had husbands. I've had a child. 

I've had dogs, cats, and horses. 

I've been around for ages!

I've had experiences. 

I read. 

I know a whole lot about a whole lot of things. I could write a catalog of things I know, from A to Z.

I could tell you how to live your life! 

I could provide so much information about so many specific things. Like, how to keep your feet warm when it's super cold: Layers, obviously; 650 down fill (800 is too warm); boots without inserts, not too tight, preferably Sorels; wool socks, not as itchy as you'd think...

Oh, I could go on and on. I know a lot about keeping warm in winter.

I know what bras not to buy.

I know that men's socks are cheaper, and just as good. 

I know that dogs need to be walked, not just brought to the park and left to their own devices. 

Multiple cats need multiple litter boxes.

Tortoises squirm with surprising violence! When you pick them up on the side of the road to keep them from killing themselves, the fury of their jerky movement as they fly out of your arms can be quite a shock. 

But it's still a good idea to know how to help a tortoise cross the road. It's better for your soul. It's better for the tortoise. The key is to have a towel in the car to throw over it, because you don't want to touch the tortoise. And then grip the shell firmly, just below 3 and 9 o'clock. Hold tight.

I know what to feed a dog that has diarrhea. 

I know when to take the cat to urgent care. 

I know how to clean up poop and vomit from most species, and most surfaces, swiftly and efficiently. For carpets, you need a scrubber brush with long bristles, like for cleaning out the tub. Cover the diarrhea with paper towels, then scoop it all up with an inside-out plastic bag, like you're picking up poop at the park. 

For every sort of mess, you need Awesome Orange. Awesome Orange cleaning agent is on the short list of the most important things I know.

Other things on the short list?  

•     Writing is how I discover what I'm really thinking beneath the surface of daily thought, and writing helps me to work through all kinds of unpleasantness.
•     Dogs buoy my happiness and comfort me when I'm blue. I'm someone who needs a dog.
•     Home is super important, even though I frequently imagine being elsewhere. I know I wouldn't actually move unless it felt absolutely right.
•    Exercise can't be optional. That's why I thrive on a farm, where I have to lift buckets, bales, and bags of feed, and push a wheelbarrow loaded with manure across the yard to the big pile.  

I'm also REALLY GOOD with particulars. 

• Don't fill the horses' water bucket more than half way. They'll dirty up the water as soon as they drink, and then you'll have to pour out heavy gallons of water. If you want it to stay clean, just put in 2--3 gallons. They'll drink it, dirty it, and then you're be left with a quart or two to pour out on the lawn. Voila!
• Feed cats wet food, from a can, twice a day to keep them hydrated. Cats generally don't drink enough, esp. males, and frequently die from kidney failure.
• If your cat doesn't show interest in going outside, don't encourage them to experience freedom. Just leave them inside, where they're safe.
• It costs about $800 to fly to London or Paris.
• NEVER, EVER book a flight with a stopover at LaGuardia.
• If you know what you like, shop at Good Will or St.Vinnie's. If you don't know what you like, don't.
• If you're patient, someone will give you a couch. 
• Birds don't become co-dependent if you feed them.  
• Awesome Orange cleans every type of surface except windows.

This is important: RACCOONS ARE OKAY. If they take up residence in your barn and turn it into a nursery, consider feeding the momma some leftovers before you go to bed. Imagine how tired she must be, how she has her cute little hands full. How hard it is for her to go out and scavenge for food with five or six little bandits in tow. She'll eat your offering of leftovers night after night. And then, one night, when you feel you've really developed a bond, she won't come to take the food you put out for her so thoughtfully. She'll have wandered off. And you'll wonder if she got hit by a car, or just decamped. You might see one of her kids dead at the end of your driveway and want to cry. Your husband may gingerly move the small creature to somewhere near and discrete where its mother may grieve it in private. And you'll feel sad. You'll hope that there were four or five other babies, and that they are with her and safe. 

You'll learn that raccoon come, set up nurseries, have babies, need food, and disperse. Because they are wild, not yours. And that is okay. Nothing wrong with raccoons.

My point is, I know SO MUCH. 

But here's the thing--the crazy thing about being so old and knowing so much..?

(Are you ready?)

I'm about to tell you a devastating truth. 

(Here it comes.)

NOBODY CARES. 

Not only do they not care, but they--

(By "they," I mean, EVERYBODY.)

THEY find it incredibly annoying when I suggest a better way, or offer the slightest morsel of unsolicited guidance and advice. 

As far as my 17-year-old is concerned, anything I might suggest is cursed by my endorsement. 

Why, when I could spare them so much effort and trouble, do people insist on muddling through? Why do the want to make their own mistakes when I could spare them that inconvenience? 

It's not like their learning curve is going to flatten out all of a sudden and leave them with nothing to do! 

Even I don't know everything. 

But I do know a lot!