And Colette returns to her usual Derpness. Pack Derp, represent!
The feminine curve of the shadow down the spillway, mirrored in the black paint at top is what does it for me on this one. It’s the mirage of water that should be there, but isn’t, because of the drought here in Cali.
It’s the promise of Green. Some day. Some where.
* * *
Getting shit done and knocking stuff down. It’s a wonderful feeling. As I often say, better living through chemistry. Slept well and dreamlessly, though a nice dream would have been lovely. I miss the dreaming when it’s absent.
The High Priestess has found its optimal gear, apparently, and I finished the carving lines on the Magician’s wand last night. We ride on, shiny and chrome.
At one point as I was sending Mouse up the spillway, there was this point. Colette flat out refused to go further up. Never in my life have I seen a dog nope the fuck out of a situation like this. Cracked me up.
It doesn’t work for the Fool card though. The Fool never pays attention to the Dog. Though I do love the look Mouse gives Colette, like “What? Now you’re a chicken?”
Pack Derp, represent!
* * *
Had anxiety dreams before waking, but no pounding rabbit heart panic attack. Huge improvement. But have still taken my meds and I should feel more settled in half an hour.
The rest of the house still sleeps except for the animals. I am grateful for the quiet.
It’s expected to only get up to 88′ today, which means I will spend a fair amount of time in the garden today, if body and brain are amenable. This morning is cool and delicious, just 67′ and a light breeze. Summer morning and the sun doesn’t feel like a brand. They say mostly cloudy, but I’m not seeing them this morning. I’m assuming if any, they’ll roll in later.
I gave her my card. She’s leaning up against war rig #2 and even if I don’t use this one for the Magician, I am definitely hoping to use both of them in one of the other cards. She was nearly six feet tall. QUEEN.
* * *
I sat outside with Colette and yelled at her for going all predator on the squirrels and birds. Her prey drive is insane. Pain in the ass dog.
Line edit on Strange Weather continues. Man, I’ve clearly leveled up as a writer.
In other news, I am angry with the world, which points to the irritability/anger version of my clinical depression. Not so much being in the hole as wanting to set the hole on fire while I sit in it. I don’t recommend it. But saying it out loud seems to help. So. Another rest day. Tomorrow should be better. *knocks wood*
* * *
You know the drill. Tell everyone! 🙂
or: we say hello to the Pan in the garden.
The green dots are the lasters that were lit throughout the space as little green stars. Absolutely wonderful.
It’s super noisy because of the low light, but I love grain/noise.
* * *
It was a Lost Weekend, but the best kind of Lost. I had an amazing time at the Wasteland Weekend Car Show on Saturday and got a lot accomplished, which included acquiring the first of many large wrenches. (I LOVE MY WRENCH.)
I didn’t get enough sleep last night. I was just so wiped out from the show. But like I said, it was amazing and I’m super glad that I went. It was wonderful fun and just being out on the road felt so good. I had a working audio cable for my phone, my music, nothing but road, and no hurry to be anywhere.
Of course the anxiety tried to eat me alive on Sunday, but that is it’s job. David tells me that it’s logical that I have these reactions. These reactions helped me survive my childhood and my younger life. It did what it was supposed to do. It kept me alive. I just don’t need it now, not in that way and learning that, when it’s all limbic system and lizard brain… It’s all aversion training, which sucks fucking ass.
But the disorder was and still is…a gift.
So today, I’ve been telling the feeling in my solar plexus that I am grateful, that I appreciate it so much, but it can stand down. I don’t know if it makes a difference. But I’m not as pranged today.
In the meantime, both husband and I are on the hunt for the next gig. The life of freelancers.
In the second meantime, I think we need to find Colette another forever home. She escaped the Ant today, and the Ant got injured in recovering her. This isn’t acceptable. It would be one thing if I had the kind of life and money that could be devoted to a dog of this intelligence and activity level, but I don’t. I still need to talk to the girls though. Colette is all of our dog. I can’t make this decision alone. It’s heart-breaking, but I don’t know what else to do.
* * *
Fabric is in production at Spoonflower. WOOO. We have 13 days left to get us to the Green Place. Please spread the word!
And we go back to Tea in the Sahara, because I *finally* got all of the rig out of the shot and added more sky.
Yeah. Added more sky.
I love my computer.
* * *
So. Gardener didn’t latch the gate. Again. Colette ran off this morning, the minute she saw the way to freedom. Like she does.
It was a fucking awful start to the day.
And then my neighbors stepped in and reminded me that not everyone is hideous. They herded her home and shut her in the backyard. Because they all know the White Dog is our dog and that she likes to go on adventures. I am now officially referring to them as my local dog militia. My neighborhood may be borderline ghetto, but the neighbors are some of the best people I have ever known.
Truly humbling to get such a gift.