Uncalendar days

The butcher was supposed to come today and do the biggest set of pigs yet; Josh and I did a ton of prep to set up. Turns out he's sick in the hospital (!) and will try to come in a week, when Josh will not be here, but in the meantime today and the next couple days isn't a huge absorbing rush.

Josh brought me up a sewing machine, a Singer 401 Slant-O-Matic, and I've been slowly getting acquainted with it. I've never used a drop-in bobbin before; I find it surprisingly hard to thread the bobbin. It's a nice machine; it runs smoothly, it has lots of ways to adjust everything and a everything is adjustable in very fine increments. It also smells like a proper sewing machine. It has a very weird pedal, not a lever but instead basically a foot plate with a button it it you press with your heel, that will take some adjusting.

The plan for the next couple days is now to tidy up odds and ends (put in the yard light, deal with the downstairs fridge that makes that awful noise, maybe shell some corn and cook some food) and probably also now to can everything in the freezers so they're empty for the butcher. Not that there's so much left in there, honestly.

I've realized how much of an effect being with Tucker has had on me. When something relating to a relationship is on my mind I don't bring it up anymore; I used to assume that folks I was in a relationship would want to hear about stuff relating to the relationship, and would be open to conversation about it. That has definitely been trained out of me. There are a couple things with Josh where the relationship has changed over the last couple years and I've been thinking about them when he's here but not mentioning them; last night once I knew nothing was happening today I mentioned them. It was hard? That's not normal for me. And now I'm nervous about it, even though it went well. That's... really instructive, and I need to remember this. It's a stupid and counterproductive way to exist and any situation which exerts pressure on me to not mention feelings and changes in interaction is not a situation I should remain in.

So I guess I'm slowly healing here. The cats are getting lots of brushing, the chimney got cleaned, the house is getting gradually put in order. There's space for me to exist here, and exist I will.

Keeping Quiet

Now we will count to twelve
and we will all keep still
for once on the face of the earth,
let's not speak in any language;
let's stop for a second,
and not move our arms so much.

It would be an exotic moment
without rush, without engines;
we would all be together
in a sudden strangeness.

Fishermen in the cold sea
would not harm whales
and the man gathering salt
would not look at his hurt hands.

Those who prepare green wars,
wars with gas, wars with fire,
victories with no survivors,
would put on clean clothes
and walk about with their brothers
in the shade, doing nothing.

What I want should not be confused
with total inactivity.

Life is what it is about...

If we were not so single-minded
about keeping our lives moving,
and for once could do nothing,
perhaps a huge silence
might interrupt this sadness
of never understanding ourselves
and of threatening ourselves with
death.

Now I'll count up to twelve
and you keep quiet and I will go.

Extravagaria : A Bilingual Edition
by Pablo Neruda (Author), Alastair Reid (Translator)