Exhaustion
Sep. 2nd, 2005 09:22 amApologies to those whose emails I haven't answered. I will, I will! I'm so tired I'm not focusing at all clearly. There's illness in our house again (2005, you had better buck up your ideas. This is your last warning)and I am dog-tired. So much to do.
A lot of my work has been in the garden, as a kind of therapy for me, something that isn't about talking or people; I have had reason to feel very disillusioned with the latter over the last week or so. But here's the funny thing; raking up weeds I find wee froglets hiding in the long grass all over the garden; I plant a pear tree, which, if it blooms, will need pollination, and that means another pear tree or trying to buy mature pear pollen (anyone got any spare pots of it around the house?) I plant sunflowers and though the bastard slugs* and birds are all over them immediately, they are doing that annual thing, petals and seeds falling to the ground purposefully. In a weird hedgewitchy way it feels like a requirement, not only to deweed and prettify but also to sow anew; it's not a lesson I expect to be learning in the early autumn, but as I am rubbish with the element of Earth, I'm not surprised my timing's a bit odd.
It seems to take ages to learn the most important lessons. Night before last I dreamt of Nuclear Man, my last truly messy relationship. In the dream, we met. He didn't look so hot, he kept looking at me with a really shifty expression. Around him fluttered his blonde secretary/mistress, clearly afraid of some old magnetism occuring. She need not have worried. He tried to give me a wrapped present, but I didn't take it, first because it was inappropriate, second because it felt cheap. There was no chagrin to the observation, it just was. We talked; there was nothing to talk about. We went our separate ways. Our friendship ended in 1993. 12 years later, the link is gone, not dead or destroyed or anything dramatic, just non-existant, unthere, as though it had never been. So much for the theatre of grande passion**! What can you do, when life drags you forwards, brings you real love, and insists on making you laugh?
As if to prove it,![[profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
falco_biarmicus and her partner Neil sans lj, are coming round tonight. Life's a bit grinding sometimes. But friends are the best!
*BTW, many thanks tolucya and nyarbaggytep the beer/slug combo is icky but works!
**admittedly our association was less a theatre and more a telephone booth with mimes in it.
A lot of my work has been in the garden, as a kind of therapy for me, something that isn't about talking or people; I have had reason to feel very disillusioned with the latter over the last week or so. But here's the funny thing; raking up weeds I find wee froglets hiding in the long grass all over the garden; I plant a pear tree, which, if it blooms, will need pollination, and that means another pear tree or trying to buy mature pear pollen (anyone got any spare pots of it around the house?) I plant sunflowers and though the bastard slugs* and birds are all over them immediately, they are doing that annual thing, petals and seeds falling to the ground purposefully. In a weird hedgewitchy way it feels like a requirement, not only to deweed and prettify but also to sow anew; it's not a lesson I expect to be learning in the early autumn, but as I am rubbish with the element of Earth, I'm not surprised my timing's a bit odd.
It seems to take ages to learn the most important lessons. Night before last I dreamt of Nuclear Man, my last truly messy relationship. In the dream, we met. He didn't look so hot, he kept looking at me with a really shifty expression. Around him fluttered his blonde secretary/mistress, clearly afraid of some old magnetism occuring. She need not have worried. He tried to give me a wrapped present, but I didn't take it, first because it was inappropriate, second because it felt cheap. There was no chagrin to the observation, it just was. We talked; there was nothing to talk about. We went our separate ways. Our friendship ended in 1993. 12 years later, the link is gone, not dead or destroyed or anything dramatic, just non-existant, unthere, as though it had never been. So much for the theatre of grande passion**! What can you do, when life drags you forwards, brings you real love, and insists on making you laugh?
As if to prove it,
falco_biarmicus and her partner Neil sans lj, are coming round tonight. Life's a bit grinding sometimes. But friends are the best!*BTW, many thanks to
lucya and nyarbaggytep the beer/slug combo is icky but works!**admittedly our association was less a theatre and more a telephone booth with mimes in it.
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