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www.googlism.com is fascinating.

I have enough 'stuff' and few enough 'events' to write about that writing feels intimidating.That's why I do laundry-list posts so often, by the way. Trying to frame my thoughts into words (without being the passionately self-righteous fifteen year old I used to be) is difficult. I also find that there are things I'm not writing because people read this, which is very unusual for me. I'm going to stop that. Now.

So when last we left our hero it was Saturday, quite late. She posted, and poked around on her computer for about fifteen more minutes, then went down to get herself a cup of honey-in-milk (buckwheat honey in milk is amazing. I get a jar of honey every time I go to the farmer's market, because I like to carry it around and dip my finger in it and eat it that way while I'm there. So, I've got lots of honey. More on that later). She came upstairs and stuck it in the upstairs microwave and, boom, the lights all go out. The fusebox is in the basement suite, which there is no key to in the house, and the dude isn't home. While our hero (I deserve masculine, don't I?) is using her cellphone as a flashlight in her bedroom, the Juggler calls, offering to drop off her 49768935869768 tomato plants (well, really, only about fifty) at her house. She accedes to this, and the downstairs neighbor promptly returns and turns on the fuse.

Our hero (who is me) ends up going home with the Juggler, stopping at one of these all-night-restaurant dealies on the way, which always feels kind of sleazy to me (in a good way). We had a server who actually had personality and a cool hat, and was tipped accordingly. He thought my pretty clothing (which I had just bought that day with Tillie, mind, and had had ridiculous amounts of fun with) looked like SCA garb. Ack! Gargh! But, as soon as I find some elastic for the pants' waistband (they're drawstring right now) he will be convinced otherwise (oh, it felt sleazier because I was wearing brilliant pink satin pyjama pants that I'd bought with Tillie).

The next day was incredibly low-key. Juggler and I hung around the hardware store, the house, and a restaurant. I think I RP'd some that night. Very low-key. I got a chicken out of the freezer.

Monday was a fantastic day. Because I've been eating lately (awesome bread from the farmer's market plus four kinds of honey and chevre around the house drives one to that) I've been energetic. So I got work done in the morning, put the chicken on the rotisserie while I gardened in the afternoon, and got both a lunch in and all my tomatoes planted before I needed to run off to a new client's evening appointment. My garden now has:

Black Krim
Persimmon
Peach
Pink Brandywine
Yellow Brandywine
Black Plum
Sungold
Mr Stripey
Speckled Roman
Green Zebra
Cherokee Chocolate
and
Jaune Flamme

tomatoes in it. I haven't yet planted my unknown.

I've decided to trellis them Florida Weave style, will explain that later. But, I got them planted, had fresh roast chicken for lunch, and then ended up going to work for four.

I had run into this client in the elevator on the way to work one day, and we'd done the number-exchange thing. The client is a couple with a newborn baby, moving very soon into new space, thus their need of me. It as wonderful to be in the middle of a very functional family with a wonderful mother talking to her baby and vacuuming around a very well-behaved dog. It's just *nice* to be in the middle of that kind of wonderful hominess. They were very impressed, and I got tipped, which doesn't usually happen.

Then, I got out of work and talked to Devon for awhile, which was pretty wonderful. As a consequence, I was up pretty late.

This morning was slow, and work, and then a trip to my community garden spot to see if I could fit in more tomatoes. I met Mary, the garden mother (not an official title, it's just what she seems to be) and we talked about plants for what must've been an hour or two, until it started raining. I ate raspberries that were ripe by my plot.

Now I'm home and very tired. I didn't even start to talk about my conversation with Devon (and the one with the roommate which happened in there too) but agh, the energy, she be gone. Time for tea and a nap and more bookage.

Sadness and Depth

So, here, I've been spending a ton of time with the Juggler lately. Really a ton, more than I have in a really long time, more one on one time than I have ever, maybe.

I knew from the beginning that this wouldn't last forever.

A couple of weeks ago I thought it was slipping, and that's fine. Now I think it's slipping again, without any real evidence (there hasn't been enough time to take an average), and that's fine.

And I feel sad every time I talk to the Juggler on the phone in the last week or two (though luckily not on dates with him, which messes up the dates, so that's good) and that's fine too.

It's actually okay to feel sad when someone who's a big warm fuzzy happy thing recedes a bit. I need to remind myself of this, cause if I don't I get stuck in 'the cycle' whereby I feel sad, I think sadness is bad, I try to avoid sadness by trying to spend more time with Juggler, Juggler feels stressed and wants to spend less time with me, I feel more sad, etc. So instead, I'll just feel sad for a bit, and then do other stuff.

I notice that music sometimes helps me to enjoy sadness. Disappointment is a really corrosive, strong emotion for me, which I get when I'm looking forward to something specific and don't get it. Sadness is different, actually enjoyable, pretty like well-shined dark wood or the word melancholy. Sadness makes me play 'Hallelujah' sung by Rufus Wainright and 'Shipwrecked' by Spacehog (except I don't have the song. Kynnin?) over and over again. It makes me feel clingier, which is almost kinda another way of saying I appreciate the people around me more. It makes me introspective and wordy and poetic (and vice versa, if I spend too much time introspecting I get angsty).

I notice that every second Tuesday, when I have a marathon client from about 11am to 3-3:30ish, I get really angsty and irritable and even ANGRY (in caps) at about 1pm. Is this something to do with food/eating whereby eating at 9:30 isn't late enough to keep my mood steady? Is this something to do with the fact that they have a vacuum that is specifically engineered to be the most annoying machine on the planet?

Argh. There we go, I was feeling poetic and sad, but I was derailed by a sudden headache and by the astonishing fact that I'm out of Milo. Alas!

Hee! 'Not tonight, angst, I have a headache'.

Speaking of which (trying to schedule time with Juggler) I am going to buy a cheapish handheld circular saw. Any recommendations on brand/features/etc?

!!!

A Counting Crows song that has been in my head since I was thirteen, that I haven't been able to put a name to (I'm 23 now) is named 'The Ghost In You'. It has this line:

And love... will not fade away, and love love love... will not fade away

That line has been echoing through my head for ten years now, sourceless, and now it's homed. Right here, right now, this is a reason to get older. The past becomes a treasure-trove of rich precious things that you can uncover like working magic. Look, I have been singing this to myself since before I knew Kynnin, singing it in those dark intense little moments of seperation from the world, and now someone is singing it to me on computer speakers.