(no subject)
These trying days
The lion dances... and refuses to show me what she's learned. I tried to tell her that I could use the help... Let's hope she is more graceful than I.
It's been days and days...
Let's just say I'm not concerned with making the bed anymore. I can sleep soundly burrowed into mounds of clean laundry and various blankets... I won't be woken up at 3AM with horrid words.
Yay for me.
So i've been basking in the sunshine and reading lots... of rather amusing crime fiction. I don't really go for that sort of thing, but since I am such an obsessive-compulsive reader, naturally I will have to conquer every novel this guy has penned. They are starting to get redundant...
Right, so glorious weather and muskadines... Muskadines taste like late summer wine.
It's a heady combination.
Unrelated, I purchased a dart board for my dining room. It's not like we eat in there anyways... I think I might start a mural on that particular wall as well... I've had dreams that have lead to this awakening. Delicate tree limbs splayed down towards the floor, something akin to unraveling lace, only organic... I suppose that if I consulted my Dream Dictionary, it would interpret these dreams as my subconcious prodding me to make an effort to put down roots and attempt to find some inner stability... But seeing as I don't think I have a fucking Dream Dictionary, we won't go there.
This time is giving way to autumn... and while the weather and given time of the year may not concern anyone else, it does me... Now is the time that seems languid, stifled, sometimes even stagnant... it brings inner turmoil... an impatient restlessness. The days that bring crisp winds set the soul free and I breathe so much easier... I need that electric blue that is coming.
Psycodog really outdid himself tonight. I was convinced I had put away everything he could possibly get into... and once again I was WRONG. The lion and I walked into the house and stood in shock, staring at what appeared to be pieces of dead animal flung the entire length of the house. Upon closer inspection, I realized that Sparky had actually gotten into a bag containing the clippings from Sascha's last haircut... considering she had waist-length hair and then bobbed it, it was a fucking lot of hair... everywhere...
The lion dances... and refuses to show me what she's learned. I tried to tell her that I could use the help... Let's hope she is more graceful than I.
It's been days and days...
Let's just say I'm not concerned with making the bed anymore. I can sleep soundly burrowed into mounds of clean laundry and various blankets... I won't be woken up at 3AM with horrid words.
Yay for me.
So i've been basking in the sunshine and reading lots... of rather amusing crime fiction. I don't really go for that sort of thing, but since I am such an obsessive-compulsive reader, naturally I will have to conquer every novel this guy has penned. They are starting to get redundant...
Right, so glorious weather and muskadines... Muskadines taste like late summer wine.
It's a heady combination.
Unrelated, I purchased a dart board for my dining room. It's not like we eat in there anyways... I think I might start a mural on that particular wall as well... I've had dreams that have lead to this awakening. Delicate tree limbs splayed down towards the floor, something akin to unraveling lace, only organic... I suppose that if I consulted my Dream Dictionary, it would interpret these dreams as my subconcious prodding me to make an effort to put down roots and attempt to find some inner stability... But seeing as I don't think I have a fucking Dream Dictionary, we won't go there.
This time is giving way to autumn... and while the weather and given time of the year may not concern anyone else, it does me... Now is the time that seems languid, stifled, sometimes even stagnant... it brings inner turmoil... an impatient restlessness. The days that bring crisp winds set the soul free and I breathe so much easier... I need that electric blue that is coming.
Psycodog really outdid himself tonight. I was convinced I had put away everything he could possibly get into... and once again I was WRONG. The lion and I walked into the house and stood in shock, staring at what appeared to be pieces of dead animal flung the entire length of the house. Upon closer inspection, I realized that Sparky had actually gotten into a bag containing the clippings from Sascha's last haircut... considering she had waist-length hair and then bobbed it, it was a fucking lot of hair... everywhere...