I have the restlessness of the recovering. Pacing the cage with no where definite to go or direction to set off in. A vague apprehension I've missed the planting season and won't have anything to yield come harvest. Thus assuring me doom. My interior castle took on water. There was a violent storm and the girl in gold has collapsed, luckily face up in the water. The other girl on the steep mountain had to come down to assure the one in gold she was going to be ok. But it's not clear on how much was understood since she was unconscious.
Besides strange dreams and landscapes, I've slept through the night the last few. The trajectory of the downslope- gross things about slightly pitted skin, scabs and copious amounts of ointment...not whincing and saying breath prayers for unconsciousness. And besides photographing the journey, I'm reading a historical romance- a monk forbidden love a girl named celia- centuries later the two come together again... to contrast i'm also reading a book on chaos theory. I've just got through the section on fractals and now we're talking fluid dynamics and the problem of turbulence. Reminds me of when i was in school and the constant exchange of ideas were swirling around me. Ah, nevermind. Let's not romanticize learning and school. Pshaw.
As a sidenote have you tried ear protection for when you vacuum? Or mow the lawn. Or even noise canceling headsets... I have a pair and it does make it all better. They really should make those things more stealth like. It's enough that my computer has a loud hum to it and when i leave my dvd player plugged in it cycles on and whirrs. Most annoying.
Well nevermind. I'm full from pineapple and am vaguely sympathetic about the fish situation and obviously at this moment sort of glad to be single. The whole thing sounds terrifying. And also speaking of animals Mortimer hasn't quite got the hang of the hunting thing. I mean he caught a mourning dove and it looked like it was bearing up under its death well but sort of humiliated by the presence of Marley who clearly thought Mortimer was bungling the job. Which he was-- trying to bite at it, while it was still quite alive and not finishing the bird off fast and efficiently. Feathers everywhere. All of it unsightly. And i feeling as if i'd come to late to be of any use but to shake my head at the whole state nature and the fall. I apologized to the bird all day.