First yard work of the year today (hooray) and my upper arms feel like cement.
Cut down the remaining grasses and did a bunch of raking in the back, the sides and the front.
Still pretty wet, so when things dry out a bit, I’ll finish it off with the leaf vacuum.
Suzanne. Again. That name and that experience – “once in a lifetime” – is back.
I can’t get over how I feel. I don’t think I ever will and I don’t know what to do about it. I am in so much pain right now, feel trapped inside this wretched body, like being suffocated in a coffin.
More strange dreams. Ron wasn’t in this one. I was travelling with a group and for some reason, had three room keys, one of which was very rusted. I didn’t know which room was mine. I was young, college age, and sharing a room with two other girls.
When I caught up with the group, they said they lost track of me so they’d given my room to someone else “more worthy”. If I were going to stay, I’d have to share a room with a man I didn’t know.
That infuriated me. I beat the shit out of the group leader, kept slapping her as hard as I could over and over, but no one seemed to mind and she hardly even reacted.
Just before I woke up, I was frantically running around trying to find my things and checking flight schedules so that I could pack and catch a plane back home. I had another, less violent, dream after that.
A slapping dream means either a surprise is going to happen soon or the dreamer is repressing anger and hostility.
Had to restart the furnace, but it’s been cranking away, knock wood.
I’ve been getting my energy back after Berkeley and then Emme’s birthday trip to Nantucket. Figuring out logistics wore me out. It was the perfect day for the trip and we enjoyed it, so well worth the effort and I’m so glad we did it.
I made The Cake for her yesterday and did the transfer station run with Peter, which makes today seem like a holiday rather than Sunday. He’s going to SF for GDC today.
Yesterday was the annual 20% off at Ace, and I got some really neat stuff, including another hanger for yard tools, some gutter screens, a candy thermometer and a hummingbird feeder.
I did the transfer station run with Peter, had a fun excursion with the Kids to Yarmouth for Dairy Queen and a new Italian food shop, purchased a couple of special online Bay Area offers, changed out the filter in the water pitcher, got a hair cut, picked up refill meds at Stop & Shop and got a pedi.
I’d planned some of this for tomorrow, so it felt really great to get some tasks done today.
Fluffles is all set, I picked up his food last night, and Candy was nice enough to come over this morning so we could touch base.
That leaves tomorrow for laundry, litterbox, changing sheets and packing. Shouldn’t be too bad.
Right now, though, I feel so confused: here and there at the same time. 1969 and 2011 at the same time, Berkeley and Mashpee at the same time, single and married at the same time.
I’m beginning to understand why the relationship between husband and wife is pretty much off limits to everyone else.
The fact is, it’s a contract and probably the most restrictive and complicated I for one have ever been party to.
It’s pretty specific: we have a responsibility to stick with each other, regardless of circumstances: sickness, poverty, and the general category of “the worse.”
There’s no bailout provision, no golden parachute, no time-limited NDA, no agreement to terminate for non-performance.
We could ruin each other, financially and emotionally, and the only thing keeping us from doing that really are the bonds of affection and conscience.
Peter is the only one whose input I’ve actively solicited because he’s the only other person besides Ron and me with skin in the game.
For everyone else, it’s a “mind your own business.”
I believe Ron had to draw a line in the sand this week with one of his closest friends.
At least, I hope he did and that the friend doesn’t try to scuttle us.
Fast, cheap, good: saute tofu, stir fry vegetables and if you have it, chard, in soy sauce, mirin and sesame oil. Made it last night because I was too fried to do much of anything else.
Had to be replaced at 11 Edgewater. Peter phoned around 5:30 am, called Spencer Hallet. They were out before 7. Amazing service.
A few days ago, had a yen for hash so fixed some ground turkey, onions, carrots, green beans and poultry seasoning. Had some of it for breakfast, baked the rest as a cottage pie with crust on the bottom and mashed potato on top for lunch. Brought some to Peter, who declared it “tasty”, and scarfed down the rest for supper.
We had a couple of days of melt, and late yesterday afternoon, it got cold again.
During the melt, I was able to clear a path from the street to the back stairs.
That was a priority because I’ve fallen twice in the last week and a half. Miraculously and so far, I’ve not broken anything.
I left one of my canes in a Chatham shop a couple of days ago and retrieved it yesterday.
It was a two-hour round trip, but worth it. I was so happy to have the cane back.
It bothers me to lose things, and not retrieving an item that has given me good service is unthinkable, even with the expense and inconvenience.
When I was very young, I lost a tiny purse in a cab in New York City. I still remember crying my eyes out, which must have driven my family bonkers.
It has to do with being lost myself, I think.