"Like vines we intertwined" - The Hush Sound

So my sister's earrings, each a white discus with the word peace upon them, broke. She asked me to fix them and I probably can. I am very good at fixing things.

A simple story, no doubt, and even a little boring as a write it. But what is so great about this story is that in context it is subtly amazing.

The backstory that makes this little record of unfortunate body decor hysterical is that this week in my house the peace broke.

There is a line of tension threaded through the beams and supports of my house that began winding its way there in 2000. It crept, like ivy vine, into every crevice to the dismay of my family but all we did was watch it grow. When its growth reached its maximum potential, it began pulling itself. The tension of this chord is so tight, wound like a guitar string, so that all you have to do is lightly pluck it to hear the beautiful resounding symphony of very angry people screaming very hurtful things at each other at record volume.

It is not my problem. But it is my family's problem and I hate having to watch them duke it out. I have tried so hard to guide the growth of the vine so that my family can live happily and peacefully but that stubborn thing is so phototropic that I can't get it to grow nicely. It is always seeking the sun and growing where ever it needs to in order to get it.

So I can fix my sister's peace earrings, no problem. But there are such deeper and more significant "fix-its" that I simply don't have the tools for. It makes me so angry that I almost became the one shouting hurtful things. I watched the whole situation escalate for ten years and that is just about the limit of my patience.

This is me. I have become Poison Ivy. Angry and resentful and now more likely to break things than fix them.

Well at least my sister can have her stupid earrings.