So far so good.  We’ve now had four, enzyme-laced, meals in a row-two lunches and two suppers-where hellhounds simply ate, you know, like dogs.  Put food down, food disappears.  Sigh.  Magic.  I’m also looking forward to being able to walk around town without worrying about the sort of sudden . . . hmm . . . extrusion . . . that cannot be picked ( Read more... )

 
HAPPY $%^&*!!!!! APRIL.

When I fumbled out of bed this morning there was a Strange Light Shining (Murkily) through the Windows.  Sunday mornings I get up what passes as early for me and I’m never at my best in the first five minutes of my feet hitting the floor anyway.*   That ominous grey-but-dazzling brilliance was awakening brutal ( Read more... )

 
Still only about a third of a person today, I fear.  Fortunately I didn’t have to do anything today, like ring bells or make bread or have a root canal,* so I could dodder along without feeling forced to notice that ‘dodder’ is a very good choice of verb.

I did manage to get out into the garden at least.  It’s not only not raining **, ( Read more... )

 
My stomach is better.  The rest of me . . . isn’t.  Sigh.  One of the splendidest pleasures of ME is the way the symptoms change.  It’s like, jeez, what’s the matter with me?  -Oh, right, ME.  In this case, this is a particularly achy manifestation.  This is what I’d be like if I ate lots of tomatoes all the time, I suppose, plus the sciatica ( Read more... )

  
I’m still a semi-person, although the semi-ness is sliding around to blast me from a new angle-as the Something of yesterday’s post retreats, the ME comes on again.  Which is what usually happens.  It’s almost like jealousy:  the ME rouses like an abusive lover, saying, hey, nobody’s allowed to hurt her but me.  Sigh.  Whatever it is, it’s so ( Read more... )

 
Yes!  A sighting!  There really is a big blinding-bright thing in the sky that makes day like day instead of like night!  I thought it was a tribal myth!*

It’s particularly shocking, this sun thing, in the middle of the night.  I did go to bed early** but the alarm still went off like half past midnight.***  It seemed to me very ( Read more... )

 
It’s much later than it should be.  And it’s all Richard Wagner’s fault.  Tonight’s Live from the Met was Tristan and Isolde.  I find Wagner a little trance-inducing:  all those big voices going at one another hammer and tongs.*  And going and going and going, hammering and tonging.  And you know that, of course, what is the single thing everyone ( Read more... )

 
So, which camellias?

I was hoping someone would ask. . . .

It’s absurdly warm here* and I wanted to get out into the garden this afternoon and maybe, for example, pot on a few camellias, or plant Mermaid** before she kills a deliveryman and his family sues me, but it didn’t happen:  it rained.  Feh.  Wet hellhounds.  Double feh.  Anyway I was ( Read more... )

Do you ever write up a list of what you have managed to accomplish in a day?*  I mean the exact opposite of the loud, scolding, overbearing list of things you’re supposed to get done.  Achievement lists are one of those life strategy things, useful in a number of contexts:  when you’re so low you don’t want to do anything and are only going ( Read more... )

[ARRRGH.  No comment unscreening tonight, many apologies;  I've only just got back on line.  We're still having punitive rain and gales and one of  'em took a passing swoop at our little town and took out both the mews and my cottage.  And I am not going to wrestle with lj on dial up . . . although that's a trifle mooter than it was before the new ( Read more... )