Spells

 

I was going to darken the lettering with an additional line of stitching, but Colin pointed out that the message is better whispered than shouted.

Rescued

 

This was all. There might be more buds hiding. The foliage was dark and strong this year. Something must have died out there enriching the soil. 

But as ever, this horticultural freak is not made to withstand adversity. Or is twenty-four hours of glory enough? 

A thunderstorm was coming so I brought them knowing they'd be blasted apart if I didn't. Here, for another few hours, they can delight eyes. Irritate my nose. And yes, there are bewildered ants trekking about my kitchen table.

I was in the bedroom reading and listening to a ballgame on the radio - an AM station live on YouTube. A change in light at the doorway and I looked up from the page. 

A little face peered up at me. Black as pitch, long-haired standing in a dark halo around his head, round yellow eyes so unafraid even though he'd snuck in the house and come upstairs. I blinked and said, "Hello." and he was gone back the way he came in. Cat doors, portals to mayhem.

I suspect he's been hanging out in the living room, each of my cats taking turns keeping him occupied, and getting to know one another. If he makes bold like that again, I'm going to trap him and have him neutered. 

Then we'll see how he likes me. 

Right up to the edge and

flap your wings.

 It was that simple. A little fresh perspective from an author I never met, some from my first crit partner and editor, and a question posed on a writing site that I check out from time to time.

I've given myself a divorce from the draft I've been wrestling with. There will be no babies tossed, but plenty of bath water. 

A clean slate.

If only I could cast this circle of protection wide enough for everyone. 

 

Biting bullets

 

Now that the deadline is safely passed, I spent the morning locating all the necessary paperwork for doing taxes going back to Covid. That's my excuse and I'm sticking to it. Putting hands on everything, and printing it all out is huge. 

The lid is off this basket of snakes and I remember that I don't mind them, taken one at a time. Have actually had them as pets. Fed the one devil whole eggs because I couldn't deal with the idea of giving it live prey. One week of snake parenting was enough. 

I'll get through this just like I did the last time - one arithmetic function after the next. 

Moving a mountain with a teaspoon, one spoonful at a time. 

It feels good, to wield this power. 

I may still enlist a professional. What's one more write-off, eh?

Digging the work table out from under everything was rewarding: space to work on bigger things appeared. Important stuff was shuffled in with memorabilia, junk mail, and wonderful gifts that I shouldn't been more careful of in the first place. But it's planting time so, good timing.

~this gift of indigo seeds 

~a vehicle title

~ school transcripts

~some Lego

~a death certificate

~crayon drawings of crab monsters

~that missing spool of gold metallic thread

~staples, pens, other office stuff 

She dashed through the front yard alone today. Somehow she gave the slip to her two yearlings, all grown up now. Later I heard her hard feet on the back deck. She was munching weeds in the side yard when I opened the slider to get a picture. The arrogance!

No fear or alarm, just strolled off into the woods stopping long enough to pose, showing off her belly. She's getting old. I hope she tucks the babies in the front garden again this year.

Hopefully, we'll be draining the pool soon. It's a happy biome that needs relocating to the creek just behind where she is standing. 

Rituals

I've let the Must Nap ritual go now that I don't have a work schedule to adhere to. At the end of August it will be two years since I quit the day job, but my whole working life, the Schedule ruled everything. 

When I worked for Ma Bell and later for AT&T clocking in late was just not an option. I lived in terror of losing those jobs and planned my days around getting there on time with a little breathing room as a priority. And opting for late or night shifts made getting a nap crucial. 

I still have to remind myself that if I want to stay up until I fall over I can. But a cloudy, cool Sunday afternoon is made for a quick nap. Mostly, I lay there to reorganize my vertebrae, wait for the Ibuprofen to kick in, and brush out my knots. 

Lately, one or more of the cat posse has decided I need an assistant. 

At first, he stretched and his foot was soft and warm. I closed my eyes and drifted off. Next thing I know, he's kicking me in his sleep like I'm encroaching on his space. Never mind I was here first.

With the Stitching chair back in place, the morning stitch has resumed but I'm afraid my freestyle font Ampersand has devolved into a treble clef and now I get to do them all over. How glad am I that I changed colors for each so none are connected on the backside to any of the words? I may opt for a medieval plus sign. There are five of them. What do you think?