more fizzling and chortling

My my my.

So the family meeting that was supposed to happen about Paul’s future did not happen because Katie wanted to be involved and she couldn’t be until tomorrer, which is now today.

“Beep beep beep” goes the alarm on the door as Jeff leaves the house to get some Timmy Ho’s.

Ah, wonder what wonders of glaziery he will turn up.

Anyhoo, while I’m over there having lunch because that was still on offer Jan phoned Keith and told him she was in town and could be at Edmonds station soon (she was a walk-on for the ferry because she cheerfully admitted she had zero stomach for driving around the lower mainland, which looks like the wild west to everyone else in BC on the media what with every truck on the road having bad brakes, thousands of people on the road driving under suspension or without ICBC coverage, and the one in one hundred likelihood that the fucker in the Audi next to you has had A FUCKING SNOOTFUL at 11:30 in the morning and will blow so far over that the cop administering the test visibly flinches). Keith of course joyfully accepted and since he’d been given back his car by Suzanne (that all went smoothly for Keith, as usual it was a gong show on Suzanne’s end because her and bureaucracy are ‘mongoose vs cobra: the rematch’), he went to pick her up and then went and picked up foodicles for supper and picked up his nephew from school and we all chatted in the living room at Caspell Junction and drank lashings of tea.

Alex came home and I briefly interacted with him before he got on Minecraft (Keith was also playing with him for a while) and then Katie got home. She was supposed to drive Alex out to be with his dad in Langley for an overnight after which hang out with Jessica for the evening and when she was making final phone arrangements with Daxus, he pointed out that it might make more sense if she stayed put and he picked Alex up and then she could go straight to Coquitlam, because I’ve done that transfer once with Katie and it’s AN IMMENSE AMOUNT OF DRIVING. (Dax is keeping his place for the foreseeable, for various good reasons.) So Katie got to stay and visit with Jan AND THEN NITA AND HER DOG ELLA ARRIVED. SWEET PUPPY. Likes people, not crazy about other dogs.

Where was Ryker in all this? Daddy Mike’s care day, safe in his other grandma’s care.

I was very emotionally exhausted by that point and also realized that I might be in someone’s parking spot so I made my way home, whereupon I was made aware that Mike had called.

He came over, bearing a brand new ukelele. He played it a bit (sounded fantastic) and then I realized he had it customized with my name – backwards. So welcome Argella, you are my latest instrument. Unlike most ukes, Argella has a spine that runs her length, so she would actually be the single most useful ukelele for a bar fight, plus she has a tuner and pickup. HEAVY tho so I need to find that uke strap.

Then we watched The Unbearable Weight of Massive Talent with him and ate halibut and chips and also shrimp and took much joy in our little social gathering.

My bucket, it’s full. THEN I GOT ENOUGH SLEEP. Woke up just in time to set up my medications for the week and take them this morning and then Jeff came back from Timmy Ho’s so we had a Tim(e) Team breakfast (the Smallhythe episode, the one where Tony sprays Phil with a hose.)

I am so happy right now. It won’t last but I report it so I can come back and relive it later.

 

Good morning morning

I am alternately fizzing and chortling and weepin’ and wailin, so EMOTIONAL LABILITY is the text du jour.

Jan Maxwell’s package arrived and I may now announce to the world that I have a book about art, anarchists and explosions; THE SCREAM BY EDVARD MUNCH ***socks*** (Jeff got the other pair), a large original pride flag, a Star Wars doodle book, a carven penis keychain (Jeff declined but since I’ve been thinking about the amazing generative power of dicks lately I’m fine with it). Plus a letter and postcard and a yellow “Reading is Sexy” pin, which Jeff got.
 
In the continued spirit of giving I today delivered biscotti unto the needy (that would be Peggy, who fell on the first cookie like she hadn’t had a meal in two days in a most gratifying explosion of crunches and crumbs) and puppy-faced at the Lundervilla (this last a dig at Joe, who freaking Poured It On when he Found the Bag no seriously his puppy face could stop planetary rotation) and pounded down two cups of tea while inhaling church and family news and sharing my own.
 
Then to Caspell Junction, wherein I beheld my quondam husband and our very much in the present son who was cheerful over his passport arriving. I further beheld Suzanne who was returning the car Keith had loaned her, which means that Keith can now drive his pop to the States to visit Janice and housemate Hank. Since I wasn’t required to drive Paul anywhere I made my way home and fell on the Jan package and the croissant Jeff brought home after his work visit this morning. I came home floating on a pleasant cloud of most desirable and informative social interactions. (Except for some, and I have to thank Keith for standing up for me in all that, no more details on offer.)
Because it’s preferable to thinking about how today Keith and I are sitting down with Paul to talk about Powers of Attorney and care instructions because we’re getting to the point. That point. A point I do not want to get to. But it’s very very definitely in view.  Okay scratch that, full family meeting on Saturday instead; Katie is going to be there.

a little list

  1. Pork chops of superlative tenderness achieved. Last two were fossilized so it made a nice change. Roasted potatoes and Brussels sprouts dressed with sesame oil to go with.
  2. Three whole loads of laundry. Not put away of course but I’ll make an attempt.
  3. We’re going to get a buttload of cold weather. I’m hoping the furnace makes it.
  4. Brief call with Katie; she’s managing.
  5. Janice did not come this weekend.
  6. 15275 words
  7. Twitter is continuing to make circling the void/drain/black hole noises.

omnibus again

  1. today’s wordle can best be solved if you put the word ‘Arrrr!’ in front of it.
  2. Halibut for lunch yesterday. It was so capacious it served for the rest of the day. I know it’s got a lot of salt but goddam I want the leftover poutine for brekky
  3. Pork chops for lunch or supper today. Johnson Pork is superior, just mentioning it again.
  4. No word comes from Caspell Junction. Is Janice there? Is she not there? I’m almost scairt to ask.
  5. Fascist brand ‘Diagolon’ leader Jeremy MacKenzie has been fired by Scotiabank. He reports to the Western Standard “I have 30 days to find alternative means of financing the mortgage on the home, where my children live & everything else you could imagine.”  I can imagine a lot of scummy things living with a neoNazi so thanks for that little kick at the end of sentence there. I personally have no beef with this kids, who will either turn out to be just like him or the BUCKwildest climate activists in Canada, that’s just how things turn. In a letter he received from the bank, no other reason than, “The bank has determined this relationship is outside of its risk appetite,” was given. LOLOLOL
  6. I was disturbed to view a Hudson & Rex episode (S5E7) in which the writers came out firmly against MAiD being offered after a deliberate medical failure to treat illness – regarding prisoners, in jail. Not a peep about disabled people tho… only watch the show for Mayko Nguyen and the dog, Diesel, anyway, I grumpily add. Once you start looking for the Canadian cultural lietmotif of disability erasure it’s frelling everywhere. thank you @mssinenomine for helping shift my viewpoint (which still needs work, my internalized ableism IS IMMENSE) *this item copied from my twitter
  7. Everything peaceful around here.  Time to locate caffeine and squeeeeeky cheese curds on poutine.

Best

I went to my appointment. I have lost two kilos without noticing. I only lose weight when I’m stressed. My blood pressure is perfect. I got a flu shot (my arm feels like it’s falling off and I’m tired.) My sugars continue to come down. Nurse recommended CBT but apparently that doesn’t work with aneurotypicals with a justice bent and I was so happy to read on twitter reasons why my last exposure to it made me unreasonably angry and DIDN’T WORK …that was when I was still working for company x.

I love it when people dismiss your social justice yearnings as unrealistic or childish don’t you? or actively psychiatrize them. I won’t say more. Anyway, I don’t want CBT, I want talking therapy with someone more intelligent than me and I’ll just let you understand what a simp I am from that.

After the appointment which was reasonably on time, I drove over to see Keith at his place and picked up the stuff that mOm and pOp had given him to bring back to us in Vancouver.

We had a lovely short visit. Kids were in school or at their other other grandmother’s whose name is Christine; Paul was snoozing on the sofa in the LR. I came home and having performed two whole errands, including driving, I enslothed myself. Called Dave, and that was a lovely call. I’d gone looking for William S Burroughs Jr. on line and found David Ohle and from there found ‘Motorman’ his first novel and read to Dave 2 descriptions of the work which were so intriguing I decided I may actually purchase it.

15174

In an hour or so we’ll fetch groceries. Off to Lumosity to see about that brain of mine.

This afternoon I’ll be visiting Jeromie in his new homie.

 

Jeff’s facebook post

Yesterday morning I spent a happy few minutes playing with a tiny jumping spider, who was exploring my computer displays. At first I just watched him walking around, gathering himself for a mighty leap, then vanishing and instantly reappearing a few centimeters away. Occasionally he would pause, turn to face me directly, and stare at me for a while. I waved at him, wondering how I would react if he waved back. He eventually wandered onto the display surface of one screen, and I noticed that he seemed to be reacting to movement on the screen. I moved the mouse pointer towards him, and he reacted immediately, turning to face it. He tracked its every movement as long as it was within a few centimeters. Every once in a while, he attacked, springing forward to grasp the pointer, then pausing with his forward legs splayed out. Much like a cat playing with a laser pointer. At one point I led him to the part of the screen where my music app shows a series of bars representing frequency bands. He stopped moving and seemed transfixed by the hectic motion of the bars. “…jumping spiders have been shown by experiment to be capable of learning, recognizing, and remembering colors, and adapting their hunting behavior accordingly.” (from Wikipedia.)

Visit from Mike

/ the great Guilt Trip. more on that later.

He brought a bag of perfect mandarins and little oranges for new year.

We ordered from Fusioncore Japanese, the three of us, and watched some TV and hung out and talked. After Jeff went to bed Mike asked the my uke that he just restrung with very plangent strings and he played (in rapid succession) about ten tunes that I had no idea he knew on ukulele, all the way from Nobody Knows You When You’re Down and Out to Who’ll Stop the Rain. I mean, he only just BOUGHT a uke. He’s absolutely loving the instrument.

All in all a good day, even if I left a message for Paul and never followed up so I never got him out of the house. And slept more than I should. And didn’t pick up my inderal.

And after Mike handed the uke back I said, I have something unpleasant to say and I have to get it over with.

“I tried so hard to love the Blue Lava guitar you gave me. I tried playing it, playing with the cool electronics, compose on it. I couldn’t love it. I know usually when I get a new instrument the other instruments are mad and they are left alone while I have New Instrument Energy with My New Fave. But it never happened with this guitar. May I give it back to you?”

And he said thank you for telling me.

I knew where all the bits and bobbles were, and packed it up along with the Instant Pot insert and Bouillon he left her from New Years. I felt so relieved because Mike just didn’t take it the wrong way.

I am so fortunate in my friends.

everyone have a hellafine day. Wordle and Lumosity done, I’m in good shape today.

COVID data resource for Canadians.

14678 words

 

 

Car’s back

Paul insisted on paying for half of it. It was the rear O2 sensor. Parts and labour were well under $400 which was fair. Keith, because he is wonderful, took care of driving on the ‘picking up the car’ end. I am fortunate.

Suzanne is very much enjoying Lucky. Like many Russian Blue coloured cats, Lucky enjoys playing fetch.

I have to run off to the pharmacy this morning. I didn’t note that I was out of Metformin so I’m taking care of that as soon as it opens. In the meantime I think I’m going to make myself an eggie on toastie.

is this contentment

Just wanted to state that Jeff is a peerless housemate and my good fortune in this last decade plus of cohabitation CANNOT be overstated. He knows why I’m posting this now, but it need not be the business of the world.

The Echo is in at the krankenhaus, Paul is all wanting to drive again, and I’m going to tell him the same thing I did last time; Don’t. Unless your doctor okays it, no. The CT happened and we’ll know more when the film’s read. Keith picked us up after we dropped the car off. Keith is being such a dear one these days.

Then I got a return call from Tammy and we had a lovely phone call, chugging through the ever changing panoply of tasks and concerns. I am very happy she called.

Suzanne is here and the rugs are in to be washed.

I carried Kevin (the vacuum) downstairs. He is a very substantial minion and awkward. I wanted to be reminded.

I think it is possible that I am gestating a poem. Could be gas. Could be the samosa. Could be that Magpie (twitterfren’) was talking about how a poem ambushed them with a philosophical demand that (as they currently construe themselves) was antithetical to their wellbeing.

This means that my friend has identified something interesting to me, of which I was not previously aware, in my poetry.

If you read David Dowker’s poems, and you should if you enjoy being bewildered in a very high-toned way, only to be poleaxed by a phrase which welds itself to your sensorium, you will not come across a single one that would require the modern day ‘scourge of both literature and the flow of ideas in virtual spaces’ by which I mean (and for the one person reading this who’ll enjoy it) the TRIGGER WARNING.

A content or trigger warning is the signed, finger-signed, audible or readable advisory that potentially painful, objectionable, psychologically harmful due to pre-existing conditions, or just plain offensive to contemporary acceptance of decency wat dat content is imminently inbound.

I think the poet has to consider the audience. If you want your poetry widely accessible, that means actually taking accessibility into consideration. Oh, one possibly probably almost certainly says, such a small part of the market.

fiendish grin

I am not marketable. Oh my offense is rank, it smells to heaven – that I have RSD and CAN’T FUCKING BEAR TO BE EDITED or even gently remonstrated with regarding usage. Of course if it’s dead wrong I don’t have a problem, but anything with wiggle room and a slice of daylight a photon wide and … I be the spiny puffer fish stuck in the throat of my own self-improvement. So I’ll never be a commercial author. I won’t improve as a poet. My best songwriting days are behind me anyway and I’m fine with that. When I have a back catalogue like what I’m sitting on… ?  just staying on top of my own top 40 compositions in terms of performance readiness is all I fucking need to do. Everyone who likes my tunes already has the sheet music or a recording and nobody else matters. When Tom Lehrer, one of the greatest song writers of the 20th C, PUBLICLY POSTED HIS ENTIRE CATALOGUE, I thought I don’t even need to say anything, I’ve been vindicated with the kind of vindication that counts, one artist heart sending up a flare to another while putting the audience first. WHO ELSE could respect his audience that much? Who is unbossed enough to do it? Of course he’s not a perfect human but it’s the single most amazing piece of direct cultural action by a white guy I’ve seen in fucking years, it’s amazing!

I used to think I’d have to die first, to be a successful author, but everything about modern publishing culture is done thanks to climate change; the industry is too busy doing an HR Giger style cannibalizing fetishistic blowjob on itself and offering its youngest workers to Moloch to have it sussed yet. Publishing is yet one more of the many things that won’t survive climate change. Books that haven’t already been digitized will disappear, burned for heat, burned in fascist and religious purges or repurposed as tp or recycled as paper for other purposes. Everything that survives will either be expensive or pirated, sometimes both depending on local bullies’ attitudes toward the arts. So yeah, I’m going to keep my dignity and not wade out into that swamp. Am I making a virtue of necessity? It’s neither virtue nor necessity. I just don’t want to get any on me when it’s a swamp I can’t win.

Having given ‘the market’ all the fcking consideration that it currently deserves, and probably to all of your minds much more than it deserved even before I wilfully dragged it out of its niche in the columbarium of western thought (barf gag), I return to the issue of the consideration of the audience. I will in future be providing content warnings for my poems. On the page, the CW will state “CW is at the bottom of the poem.” People can then choose to skip ahead or read the poem. CW are often for sexual abuse, self-harm, violence, eating disorders but since I hardly ever write poetry about that, it won’t be necessary. But sometimes I mention things like death and going to the hospital, and yes it would be good to either make the title the content warning or give sensitive people a heads up. I wrote a poem about a dying man called Tom in Hospital. So easy to do. I could have called it something else. But anyone walking up to the poem who just had a relative or friend die will know: I rilly don’t need to read this right now. Or I must read this right now. But at least they know!

I identified an artistic problem with the help of a friend. I identified a number of ways to solve it. I will take the rest of my musings on the subject off line, partly because I need to pee but also because I rilly want another samosa and a smoothie to go with.

left a message for Keith

Didn’t hear back. I’m assuming all went well.

Wordle in 3 this morning. I suspect that Suzanne will laugh when she gets it. I know I did.

Weather continues warm, overcast and intermittently rainy; no break for many days.

The Russians lied their way through the ceasefire and are fumbling their way through the Donbas attack. As the weaponry between the nations equalizes thanks to NATO Putin’s desire to use nukes must be well nigh insupportable.  I’m sure his people, over whom the fallout will land, are right there with him. In the last episode of first season The Peripheral a bunch of kleptocrat Russians in London talk about the Putin diaspora and I involuntarily smiled. The show hasn’t been renewed by Amazon yet but it’s apparently just being finalized.

Jeff and I, despite our very commendable urge to stay the hell home, went to London Thugs yesterday. As we came down the escalator (I was wearing the highest standard mask that we own, Jeff had a KN95) we saw that we were walking into a store where no one including the staff were wearing masks. Needless to say we didn’t hang about. I purchased an alarm clock (a really nice one) and more importantly a proper charger and charging cable for the little non phone Nokia Jeff loaned me, since I was not consistently able to get a charge out of the old one. Once again I spent the money and got a two metre cable and a decent charger and glory be, all of my charging issues are done and the non phone charges almost instantly now.

We should probably go do a shop this am, got no more eggies.

14223 words

Lovely night of sleep after a lovely bathe and brush-up. Finally recovering from a couple of ragged nights. Jeff got me a chicken breast over caesar salad for dins last night and it was nom. A couple of amazing pieces of garlic bread came with – it’s the simple things that make life better…

Blood pressure is fine.

Mike would probably hate us but that one last piece of slowly drying prime rib (literally all the other leftovers were long since eaten) in the fridge was cut up and given to the crows (with peanuts). GONE pretty much instantly. Curvebeak must have been reproductively successful, there’s another curvebeaked crow out there, a little bit smaller, showing the raven lineage.

Lumosity up next.

Anyway, I am definitely feeling much less like whining, fussing and crying this morning so let’s see what I can do to either make my life better or someone else’s today. Thanks mOm for the kind words. I try to write amusing things and when I manage it’s lovely.

Never fails

The more useful my blog is to me and my family the less interesting it is to other people… down to five people looking at it per day, including someone I live with. I suppose if Buster could read he’d be in there looking for references to his cattly self too.

Wordle in five this morning. I am endeavouring not to cheat and haven’t for about a month now. Hard to believe I’ve been doing it for more than a year, seems like less time.

Keith is going to his G&G for part of the weekend and I’d go with him if I thought I’d be welcome. We are definitely on the mend relationship wise though so I’m gonna stay out of his show. He’s taking his pOp to an important medical appointment today. Last night I dreamed that Paul completely showed insight into his condition including that his vision isn’t great and when I joyfully said, “So you’re okay with not driving then?” he turned from where he was sitting on the floor at his place watching the same aviation themed movie Jeff and I watched last night (“Devotion” recommended for war movie and civil rights fans, directed by JD Dillard and score by Chanda Dancy (I did like the score)), put on the meanest facial expression possible (literally one I’ve never seen on him before because he is not a mean person) and said, “Of course not, I’ll be driving again soon.”

And then I woke up. Given that it was my own brain that dished out this ghastly bit of me attempting to work through my emotions on this (waves arms helplessly in general direction of undesirable events and outcomes) I guess I’m going to look over to my Ontie Mary and her life experience and pray for guidance. I try to do the right thing but I’m lazy and self-involved. He deserves the very best of care, the world knows he gave it to me many times when I needed it. Keith and I left it that I am ready to take Paul at 10:30 just in case for whatever reason Keith can’t and then we’ll swap out cars and I’ll take Paul. If I don’t hear from him by eleven I can assume I’m excused duty. So I’ll back Keith up but I’m going to operate on the assumption that I don’t have to today.

And I’m sitting here crying like a fool. Must get up and walk around today.

Echo goes to the Krankenhaus Thursday which is great because it’ll be out of the driveway for Suzanne. Suzanne FINALLY HAZ CATT His name is Lucky, he looks like Bounce, and he’s a rescue purr factory.

Jeff and I have both been having insomnia and ‘sleeping at weird times’ issues but they seem to be resolving. We were BOTH up at 1:30 the other morning.

Really enjoyed Brisco County Jr but we’ve finished our watch of the first and only season. RIP Julius Carry you were epic as tracker/bounty hunter/bon vivant Lord Bowler and I think I loved your outfit almost as much as I loved you.

Coming up to the end of season 3 Expanse – still an amazing show!

14151 words. We’ll see what I’m up for today, but progress once again seems possible.

Lumosity brain exercises up next. I am never going to achieve the same scores for them as I did in 13/14 but I’m getting close for some of them.

Briefly thought about adding chat to this website. That would be funny.

New burner to replace the one I melted Jeff’s container on has been installed. Oy me. Hey, it only took two weeks.

There was a rat under the sink last night. We may have to call an exterminator, Buster doesn’t seem up for the job.

Confidential to Glenn dangit I ain’t even opened it yet.

Late post

Normally I’ve posted by now but I’ve been feeling lazy. Keith called. We chatted about pretty much the only thing that’s on our minds right now. Paul is still very concerned about the car – there’s an appointment to fix his Echo on Jan 12.

Oleksiy Danilov says, via twitter this morning:

How does a pack of petty kremlin devils relate to a Christian holiday? Who will believe scum that kills children, bombards maternity hospitals, tortures prisoners? A ceasefire? Lies and hypocrisy. We will bite you in the singing silence of the Ukrainian night.

This in response to the Russian demand for a Christmas ceasefire. Yikes. The grim poetry of defiance.

Keith wants to write an essay called, “Okay Canadians do you understand the Russians now?” about how they have the power to change their circumstances but don’t because they’re busy staying alive.

This will be a cold hard winter, not that Galen Weston, extracting record profits from broke Canadians, cares.

50 foot waves off the California coast with the bomb cyclone. The visualizations on ventusky dot com are WILD.

Europa just broke every January record for how hot it was. They were recording summer-in-vancouver temperatures across thousands of kilometres.

 

sadly no mochi

I lookit evvywhere in the freezer aisles, no go. I imagine if it was in a more Chinese neighbourhood it would be different. Do I REALLY want to go to T n T? er no. I’ll keep my eyes peeled when I’m out though.

Jeff and I are still enjoying the leftovers from our SUMPTUOUS REPAST™. He really wishes he’d been in better shape for the main event, but leftovers rule!

Jeri Lynn broke a rib coughing. Story of our lives these days. Jeffrey her husband is being very helpful (it’s his default setting; he’s one of the dearest and kindest of men, not that anykind else would be worthy of her, lol.)

Very much looking forward to the new season of Miss Scarlett and the Duke. Yes, it’s Victorian copaganda, but we do so love the principals, and mOm enjoys making a recommendation for a show to us once in a way.

I stole Jeff’s Oodie after I gave mine to mOm and I’m practically living in it; if I’m wearing it I don’t need the heater on in my room at night.

Thinking with longing of my friends and family today; Dave in his east facing eyrie at Bathurst and Sheppard, the jasmine and the sandalwood. Peggy in her sprawling house filled with family and TOoo MucH sTUff. All the Dunnett folk across the country and elsewhere, madly sending greetings on the chat line. All the Statpower folks. I could have seen Jerome and didn’t. I’m not exactly phobic about public spaces but I ‘git anxious’ that’s for sure. Mike in his west facing eyrie along Kingsway. No sunbathing in December on his balcony, that’s for sure. Alexis ensconced in the family eyrie in the West End. Feeding hummingbirds; tracking our insaniam producendo weather. Jarmo and Susanna and Ninja the kitty, grieving still and always, since Ville (may his name be remembered) passed over the holidays. Tammy – it wasn’t enough, what I saw of her. Glenn – how I would enjoy just sitting and drinking coffee with you somewhere, to roll all this madness and sadness around and try to get a grip on it. Rob P, who told me YEARS ago to watch Farscape. Sue and Marylke and Katie S. and Ivy and Madelyn. Talks and shows and canoe trips and their deep listening. M&D and Ontie Mary. Missing Jim. I barely saw him these last five years, but I can’t think about his death without an inner wail that comes from my toes.

I should call Jan. There are a lot of shoulds. Too many.

This is my heart’s longing, that you all be well and facing 2023 with the love and equanimity we will all need. It’s gonna be rough folks and we need to be helpful and soft to counteract it all.

another fine morning today

I did absolutely nothing yesterday except

one load of laundry

production of two meals, both of which involved standing and cooking, which miraculously I am now able to do after weeks of having trouble standing for any period of time

calm avoidance of invitation to Jerome’s (Mike called around 4 and I told him to drop by after if he went). I just thought my lack of social contact would turn into me autistic gabbling for hours while being worried about COVID and RSV and I couldn’t hack it

creating that L.M. Sacasas quote from yesterday using the absolute stinkpot software ‘paintbrush’ although it IS simple enough for my grandchild to use, so…

training, cuddling and brushing Buster repeatedly over the course of the day, including holding paws with him when his feets were cold (he genuinely likes holding paws with people, it’s adorable)

realizing that the balm from the bee place did actually heal the crack in my heel (I’d started bleeding, most distasteful) and now I need to reapply to the dry bits (face hands elbows etc.). It spreads well and smells lovely. Looking forward to getting more, stuff’s miraculous.

Realizing that it’s time to do Paul’s feet again. I’ll call him today and try once again to find out what he wants me to do about the car.

Checking if I have enough money to pay Suzanne, I do. However her car has been totalled thanks to this fucking weather we had last week so we may need to go get her.

continuing to produce coughs/mucus – substantially noisier than yesterday though I feel no worse, and in fact my mood continues to trend good although I had quite a crying jag yesterday evening thinking about how I’m likely to survive Buster and HOO BOY but I def. feel better today.

a complete review of Part II including copy edits and clarity edits

bringing the mail in… hey, there was mail!

Talking to Dave on the phone, and how lovely to hear his voice. He awaits word of a launch for his book. It continues to emit its own vibrations in this ever renewed universe.

posting in multiples to facebook, tumblr, twitter and dispensing goo on reddit

cheating to get the Wordle of the day after four guesses(Suzanne never cheats but she has a better starter word and doesn’t just guess, she has a system)

doing my Lumosity training, my scores have risen dramatically thank goodness

rewatching Here There Be Dragons (Expanse S2E11) which has SO MANY OF MY FAVOURITE LINES AND SCENES from that show

falling on the treats that Jeff brought back after his dental appointment with the savoir faire of a starving seagull           I M SNAKKY

taking a call from Tammy at the airport. It was an absolutely lovely conversation, she was SO sweet to me, and helpful too. That convo was everything about why I love her so much even if we slide past each other once in a while in terms of understanding – we talked about the book she gave me (about Henrietta Lacks) and the rest of the visiting she did, about what she’s going home to (she never takes ten days off so she’s expecting… a lot of emails, overflowing cat litter since the housesitter won’t have done it etc.) and she told me about the last hour of Banshees of Inisherin after I told her that brO and I bailed on it and you know what??? I’m not sorry we did; as much as I ADORE the two principal actors it was just too fucked up for me. Colin Farrell can do shit with his eyebrows that funambulists drool over.

Calling Rex Murphy a ‘harrumphosaurus’ on various social media platforms. I mean I could call it a day just with that one comment, I M JEENYOUS

Emailing my mOm a picture of a parrot perched on a bird identification book and looking with interest at a picture of a conspecific.

This morning I’ve done my Lumosity, cheated once again on Wordle (I should just stop doing it, it’s morally hazardous), mentally congratulated the Ukrainian forces for fending off every single fucking rocket the Russkys sent toward Kyiv yesterday, made coffee and consumed it, made peppermint tea for Jeff, shuffled stuff in the kitchen and started thinking about eggs and toast (again) for brekky. It’s easy and the cast iron pan’s perfectly seasoned now; how I love hearing the snap of eggs in butter on a nice hot stovetop.

I’m thinking of ordering more no-drip undies today. I don’t have much planned, but do I really have to? Do I?