Greenstorm's Journal

I'm trying to sort out my animal situation.

Animals take a lot of constant work, unlike the garden which requires bursts of seasonal work. To some extent that constant work is important for me since it gets me up and moving every day. To some extent it's a problem, because it makes vacations etc difficult. To a large extent it can be ameliorated with infrastructure where more $ = more freedom. For instance the difference between hauling water from indoors, hauling water from the spigot on the side of the house, short-hosing water from a field standpipe right next to the pig field, and having an heated or geothermal automatic waterer is a tremendous gradient from a ton of daily work to a once-daily stroll. Likewise feed has a work gradient from shoveling off the truck and hauling daily through tractoring to the location and finally tractoring to automatic feeders.

I had hoped to be in a different place with infrastructure finances by now, but between my 2019 job loss and shift and the chimney/roof repairs and the covid/abattoir situation I am not. So it's time to make some decisions.

I love geese. I'm at 28 right now - white chinese, brown chinese, roman, pilgrim, embden, and saddleback. They're low-care except for winter water, and keeping them inside in the cold of winter and then in breeding pens is probably going to make my spring a lot better. When they were free-ranging in spring there were significant poop issues on my driveway. I'm happy to increase my goose population (highest ever was 44 and that's an ok summer number, as would be a slightly higher number). I'd like to add a couple brown chinese females, several classic roman geese (non-poof-headed), maybe one saddleback pair or trio, and eventually either cottom patch or shetland (shetland probably aren't genetically viable anymore and are thus a functionally dead breed, which is sad because I love them). They are almost all rare, they're great lawnmowers, I find them super rewarding. I think it's fair to cap myself at 1-2 males and 3-4 females of any of the breeds that aren't vanishingly rare, with a cap of maybe 3 males and 6 females of roman, saddleback, or shetland (hahahaha, that would be the largest or second-largest shetland flock in north america but I can dream) and only 2 very rare breeds in that case. I'm not concerned about having too many geese, really, except insofar as I have housing for them. They will always be worth the feed bill for me and a bunch of people seem to like the meat so I seem to be able to sell them ok.

Ducks are very hardy, good layers, and ornamental. They're entertaining. They smell weird. They mess up water. In winter they eat a lot, and they're expensive to slaughter. They make a really great size bird for me personally to eat, unlike a goose which is so huge. I'm involved in Anconas, which are a newly created breed, cayugas which are basically living jewels, the snowblower duck line which is excellent farm utility, and pekins which I want to incorporate into the snowblower line for size but hopefully retain some of the great laying/brooding qualities. So I do want to keep ducks, they can hang out with the geese in winter outside of breeding season, but I don't want to overwinter more than two dozen-ish. I can sell ducklings pretty well in spring if I hatch them out, and probably hatching eggs. Selling whole ducks for food is less worth it between abattoir costs and how small they are; adding some size to the line might help.

Chickens make chicken eggs, which I like scrambled or fried or mostly boiled (duck and goose are too rich for me when cooked that way, though I think I could get used to duck soy eggs). They also make chicken, which isn't super replaceable by other meats for a bunch of things. They're good at turning over the litter in ways ducks and geese don't, and they likewise turn the top inch of soil pretty well in a garden while de-bugging and removing weeds. I'm settled mostly into hardy breeds (chanteclers and americaunas) and the longer I keep breeding here the better I'll be. Keeping a couple chickens is great. Keeping a bunch of chickens is a pain, this despite the hatching eggs and chicks selling pretty well. A dozen or eighteen chickens with two to three roosters, replacing about half every year? That sounds about right. I'll keep playing with my chantecler/americauna mix with a bit of whatever will bulk them out a bit.

Dogs keep everyone safe, they stay.

Cats are not completely aligned animals, they catch some vermin which is good but I'm allergic to them which is bad. However, I have these cats and they live here now. I manage them by controlling access to parts of the house and I should probably get a hepa air filter.

All of the above need minimal alteration/infrastructure changes except maybe more goose houses. Now for the difficulties.

Pigs. Oof. I started pigs as tillers for the garden and they're fantastic like that. Like chickens they'll eat anything. Ossabaw pork is unrivaled and can't be bought. Lard for soap is a lot of fun. I really believe in this breed and it's vanishingly rare and getting rarer by the day with the way feed costs are going. They require the most outside inputs in terms of feed and I was going to say butchering help, but that's not entirely true. They require more labour from me for butchering because there's no one who can do them justice, who works on regular pigs. Handling 3' of backfat and a 2" loin eye instead of 7/8" backfat and a 4" loin is just... folks who butcher commercially run on muscle memory for grocery store cuts, and my pigs are nowhere near that even a little. Also castrating them is really, really emotionally difficult; there's a shot in europe you can give boars that essentially functions like castration and I wish that would hurry up and be approved here. Breeding is less controllable: with birds you remove the eggs and you don't get babies, sometimes you even need to put them in an incubator to make babies. With pigs it's super difficult to keep a boar separated from the females when they're in heat, both of them will go through most fencing, and then a boar can't be kept alone so he needs a companion, and she needs a companion, so that's at least four pigs if you're separating the boar. Pigs can be artificially inseminated but Ossabaws can't since there's no frozen semen for them. So anyhow, I really, really want to keep pigs on the landscape but they're a tremendous amount of work. I need to reduce the numbers I have and keep them low. I wish so much there was a vet within a couple hours that would castrate for me and/or that shot would be approved (I just looked this up and Improvest* was I think approved and starting pilot trials in 2010, it was in a 2016 piece of legislation that's now defunct, but I can't find it in modern legislation, gotta look into this more so this is super promising, it reduces boar taint and keeps girls from getting pregnant, this may let me keep pigs! Yay!). I also need to keep extending my fencing if I want to keep pigs and extend my gardens, but I guess that's true anyhow (I'm lookin' at you, deer/moose).

Muscovy ducks are not entirely practical here, but they are lovely. They're sweet animals, they make beautiful sounds, they're beautiful. Their feet will frostbite in ambient conditions in winter so they need to be confined either with electric heat or with deep-bedded compost. They make a completely different meat to other waterfowl, basically a clone for beef, they lay sporadically but prolifically when they lay, and they are good incubators. Locally there is a disease (?) which kills them when they are young and go out on the land, so they need to be kept indoors when young until they're a considerable age. So, these are an optional pet-slash-incubator, and they require an indoor either heated or deep-bedded composting space

Costurnix quail are weird in the practical/impractical scale. They lay like champs, year round, tremendous volumes of eggs by body weight. The eggs are annoying for practical purposes but really great in salad dressings, tartares, etc. A couple in a greenhouse are tremendous helps in reducing pests. They make lovely noises. They take up almost no space. They're fiddly to eat, have short lifespans, and need to be kept in groups with many more females than males so they're not the most practical meat animal. They need to be kept enclosed at all times since they have no sense. Their infrastructure is out of scale with everyone else's so they really need their own setup, though I'm having some success sharing a completely enclosed space with chickens. I'd love to have a couple in each greenhouse all summer, which requires the greenhouse be sealed, but it's hard for me to have animals for the summer and get rid of them over winter. Along with muscovies these are definitely on the luxury list. Unlike muscovies these are one-more-different-thing, since the muscovies can go in with chickens/ducks in a deep bedding situation, but also unlike muscovies they can be set up with significantly easy auto-feeders and auto-waterers.


Ok, those are the animals. Now what increases my capacity?

-Pig immunocastration shot. Look into this.
-Automatic feeders. Easy to make for birds, harder for pigs. Might be worth it to buy one in for pigs. Have to figure out how to keep them from being buried by deep bedding for the birds (deep bedding rises the floor by 2' slowly over the course of the winter). I should make the bird ones anyhow.
-Hand-filled automatic waterers. Easy for chickens or quail. Hard for waterfowl in winter (55-gallon-drum with a hole cut on the side?) but easy in summer, and not really a thing for pigs unless I built a tank that filled their bowl via float valve and somehow couldn't be destroyed.
-More livestock houses. Working on it one at a time.
-More rotational pastures. Working on one or two added per year.
-Standpipe by the barn. $$$. This might happen in the future but won't happen now.
-Tractor. See standpipe issues above.
-Plumbed-in automatic waterer. I should probably actually cost this out but it would make chores into basically floating on air and so I suspect it's nor affordable.

Ok, gonna let that marinate for a bit.

We've got the cold. I think it hit -34 in town last night, so likely -37 or so here.

The new-to-me truck won't start, I think it both needs a new battery and the engine heater isn't working. So that's fun.

Yesterday Tucker jumped the truck and I went down to go get feed. It was snowing-- I know better than to go by the forecast rather than the observed weather and that was supposed to be the clear window-- and snow was behaving how it always behaves in deep cold. That is, it turns into a dust storm.

Solidly below -20 snow not only doesn't clump at all, it doesn't stick to surfaces. This means that with good snow tires the roads are great - they're clear, and snow tires will stick to them like summers won't. But. There is a ton of effectively weightless dust along the whole road that's tossed up by passing vehicles and, when it's snowing, by snowploughs. The dust is super reflective so a vehicle can be fifteen feet ahead of you and completely invisible, and because of the way the snow kicks up you can still see a couple feet of clear road and then just an ambiguous haze in which the car is hidden.

That is to say, it was a slow drive down and back. Folks up here don't have a great sense for putting on their lights in these conditions (lights give maybe an extra 6-8' of visibility in a cloud like this). Different folks had different strategies: if you follow a logging truck about four feet behind it, for instance, you can see its lights and you won't go off the road, and it's likely to stop more slowly than you if you catch the brake lights. Or, you can drive real fast into a cloud, slam on your brakes when you see lights a couple feet ahead of you going slowly, hope the person behind you sees your lights in time, and then slow down until there's visibility so you can speed up again and keep repeating the cycle. Of course, when a vehicle comes by going the other direction all visibility is lost for awhile too, including all sense of where the road is, and choices there involve braking and hoping the person behind is also braking, or keeping going and hoping you know where the road is-- if you're following someone's lights and can't see the stretch of road ahead this can be challenging.

I hung way back so I could see a clear full stopping distance of road ahead of me at all times, because I am just like that. Starting back I was behind a snowplough that was being followed by 2-4 cars in front of me (they were never at any point visible to me) and by the halfway mark home I had let maybe 30 vehicles pass including several logging trucks, a UPS van, etc. Note that none of them could pass the plough since the plough blocked visibility in both directions, so the line ahead of me just got longer and longer until the plough pulled over at the midway point and everyone went ahead.

It was a surreal experience in a lot of ways because of how quickly, easily, and completely vehicles disappear. I think one of the invisible vehicles immediately following the snowplough was a logging truck. I know at least 30 vehicles were ahead of me, led by a snowplough. But sometimes when the road did a long lazy curve it just looked a little bit snowy on the road and like there was no one there: something about the way the snow lifts and reflects makes it look more translucent than it actually is.

I got home without incident and with my winter driving caution re-tuned. It really is such a different beast than summer driving. Now I'm offloading the grain -- 2200lbs moved by bucket on top of the daily several hundred pounds of food and water carried by bucket out to animals. I'm moving slow. Cold steals my energy and this is a pretty intensive physical output too.

It'll get done though. One bit at a time.

It snowed yesterday in the bush.

Tucker might buy a condo this weekend in the one place I can't live.

I made soap last night, and put up 6kg of turnips to pickle. I put in the traditional beets so they turn bright pink.

This morning there is snow on the ground outside again.

It took me three or four years to bond with this land.

I don't know what my future will hold but I know it will hold seeds for food, woody plants of many descriptions, the act of putting plants to bed for winter, the process of nourishing soil until it's rich and crumbly.

I could decide now that Threshold is where I want to live forever and I might be able to make that happen. I could decide to stay here, plant my tomatoes and peppers in the spring, re-embrace my heart as a revolving door where people come when they can and leave when they are done their business. For awhile I would be suspicious of all people who applied to that heart. It would reaffirm my belief that the only trustworthy relationship is the relationship to the land.

I haven't spoken much about the name of my home. I feel superstitious about it: Threshold isn't what I would have chosen if I were trying to anchor the place and make it mine. Instead it's the name that came to me persistently, something whispered by the curve of the hill that hides the pond but that it seems like you can see over, something that offers an unfolding the deeper you walk into her. Walk over the curve and you're at the pond; from the pond there's another field that invites and then, accepting that, a forest is offered. It's a name held by the arch of the house that stands like a doorway from the road. It's a name of becoming. Before just now I thought of it as meaning a place that you passed through on the way to another place and that's always been sad for me; I'd wanted to land permanently. In writing this I see that Threshold is what you are always passing through on the way to be coming yourself, and that self is the threshold for the next self. There's no arrival, just becoming.

I don't know how much sense that makes. I woke up with enough time to sit here in bed and feel my emotions. Tucker is going to maybe buy a condo in the city and we didn't talk about it. This has happened before; he put an offer on a condo two years ago and told me about it but the offer didn't get accepted. That creates what the therapists call an attachment rupture: "hey, I will just drastically change the relationship without consulting you". Or maybe we did talk about it; we both know he's not going to stay in Fort long term. To my mind the next steps would be to talk out options until we had an agreed-upon set of plans. Maybe those plans would be that he buys a condo for a year while we figure out what happens next or maybe we'd look for somewhere together or maybe we'd decide not to continue together in the way we have been. Whatever the result, I want the process. I want to feel heard, I want to feel I understand my partner's point of view, I want to discuss costs and benefits of different options to each of us.

So I retreat into the ties where I feel secure: into the land with whom I work.

Mom is still here and we'll go work on things outside together. That will be lovely. It doesn't escape my notice that mom tends to drop out and parachute in. I like that kind of connection generally because it feels authentic and comfortable to me. But. I want one relationship in my life that doesn't have that style, a weekly or daily relationship.

The sun is fully up. It's time to go out and play. Be well.

I'm buying a truck.

I've been using the 4runner and a trailer for awhile but it's been challenging: I need to know when I'll need it, I can't pick up feed or something on the way home unless I bring and park and haul the trailer all day. I've been getting the grocery store food in the 4runner with the seats down and that sucks, honestly. It's bad for the vehicle even with cardboard down, stuff doesn't fit well. Problematic. So it's time for a truck.

I've decided on a 2nd gen Toyota Tundra with the 5.7L engine. They're a solid truck and they shouldn't blow up after 200-300k. The engine is the same fuel efficiency as my 4runner's current 4.7L but can offer more horsepower which means I can tow real weight if I need. After a trip to try some out, I've decided on a longbox (8' box). This is definitely going to be learning to drive all over again, but.

There are three in contention right now.

One is a pretty ok truck, it's got some bits of body rust starting superficially by the back taillight and where the gooseneck trailer rails were attached through the bed. Engine sounds ok, frame looks good. It's cheap. I would maybe have this one for 7 years?

One is a low kms truck (210k). It has flaky rust on leaf springs and coils. It has a perfectly nonrusty bed and a beautiful canopy and the engine actually just made me smile to listen to and to drive. I'm not sure I've had that experience before? It was a purr. This one would likely need some suspension work to make it to 10 years but should be fine otherwise.

One has heated leather seats and is too far for me to look at it. The other two have the transmission cooling haul system and airbag suspension; this one has an aftermarket heavy leaf-spring suspension. I'm considering getting it inspected by the local mechanic there that everyone in the toyota community recommends. No canopy, "surface rust", higher kms (290k). The heated seats on my 4runner make my bones stop hurting and it would be nice to keep that.

I have a broad, nonserious information-gathering part of my decision process where I basically accept all options. Then I slowly eliminate options. Before the actual point of decision it's uncomfortable where I just need a little more info than I have. I'm in that spot right now.

I get very, very attached to my vehicles. This is kind of like dating and preparing for a breakup at the same time. There are little licks of excitement and potential plus gloom and "nothing's gonna be as nice as the one I have now".

Then one morning I'll wake up and have decided and can start bonding and grieving.

Pause. Breathe. Look inward. Focus on yourself. The time for motion is not now.

It feels overwhelming. Everything seems terrible. Map your thought patterns, turn it to every facet, and you can find new and better ways of thinking about it and eventually moving.

Your body is held and loved by the world. It gives so much richness, and it gives what you need: food and garden and pork and medical care and space to live.

This is a real death, and it will require a real rebirth. There may be connections that can survive the journey. It's a thing I've done before and I can do it again.

Then it will be time to build the next life. Anchor expectations and hopes in the real. Don't allow myself to accept what's not there because I want it. Make ambitions concrete and achievable.

Pan says that I've used civilization as a tool until it's become a trap for me. This isn't my face and it's not where I belong. Return to where I belong. I know who I am. I'm just not doing it.

Regret. Grieve. Leave attachments that are too painful. Move on. Move on. Move on. It's real. Move on.

(I've been here and alive for so long without a rebirth. It's hard)

So I've been habitually posting on weekends. Then Dave came up for a weekend, then I went to a music festival for a weekend. This coming weekend my mom is coming to visit, and the one following that I'm going to hang out with a new um-maybe-friend in Williams Lake and eat oysters and see what physical proximity does to our interaction, then the one following that I'm heading to the Mission Folk Fest, and then to the other side of Canada for the first time to visit Nova Scotia with Dave. So there's a lot to catch up on, obviously, and I may not update lots.

I do, however, have lots of things going on in my head.

The level of casual friendly to strangers here is about the same as the level of casual friendly in Vancouver to someone you've been introduced to through a friend but not previously spoken to much. It's turned up a notch from Vancouver-stranger. I like it. It's ok to talk to folks, coworkers are more invite-able to things, every interaction is just a little bit closer or at least allows for more than the equivalent one in the city.

One of the fun/frustrating things about sex is that you basically reinvent it with each person (unless I guess you wanna follow the standard het escalator vanilla template?). You never quite know what's coming down that pipe.

The Smithers music festival was fun; it had more different types of music than I was expecting. I went up with two co-workers, Jeremy who was the instigator and who's my fellow summer hire, and Brett. It was nice to hang out with them some; they definitely viewed it as a drinking/hanging around experience, and were maybe slightly distressed that I wouldn't accept drinks. Thy hung out in a group together; I realized I'm maybe more independent than I think I am, an definitely moreso than my twenty-year-old self could have understood. I danced a bunch and stayed in a tent. It was really, really good for me. I discovered a couple local bands, one called Black Spruce Bog who write about things like salmon and who might play over here in Fort St James in the fall.

Instead of getting a ride home with my co-workers, I caught a ride with the okc person I met a couple weeks ago. It was basically an excuse to talk, and talk we did... and then the next night we spoke on the phone pretty late too. He lives about four hours away, towards Vancouver, so he's not entirely local, but he's close enough for visits. I'm enjoying the feeling of spark with someone. We'll see where this goes.

Interest in someone else is definitely making me miss Dave extra-much-a lot. Poly is always like this for me; my desire for long-term/current partners always flares up when I find a new connection elsewhere. I love how contrasts highlight each person's individuality. So even though Dave was just here, the separation is hard right now. I just got extended at work, so I'll be here, likely, till November. That's a long time to be away, and I guess that's also hitting me.

I have no idea what will happen in the future. My original goal taking co-op at school was to do a co-op term in a different place each time, to get to know different parts of BC and see where I wanted to end up. I really like it up here, though, I like the company I work for and I like the town. I likely could come back next summer no problem; it wouldn't let me go work on the coast or Vancouver Island to check them out. It's really far to visit.

I don't know.

An 8 month/4 month lifestyle split between locations is maybe even possible for awhile. Do I want that? It's early to tell. I need to sit with it. But, it's definitely in my mind as a possibility.

We'll also see how I feel about the town and the job in six months when I'm not flush with the novelty of it, or when the winter comes. If I'm here during snow, I've promised myself I'll learn to cross-country ski on the lake. How out of character is that?

Everyone here is really outdoorsy, not the Vancouver weekend-outdoorsy but they all seem to play on multiple sports teams and kayak and hike and camp all the time, not just once in awhile. And everyone means everyone.

And there are so many places that are logging-road or boat access only that you can go and there are trees and water and no people.

Yeah, typical poly dilemma of always feeling like, even when some things you love are here, others are distant. It's not like I'm any different with places than with people.

I want to write more, I may tonight, but now I have to (get this) clean my room for my mom. Ha. Since I'm going to install her here when she gets here, it likely shouldn't have clothes and sex toys in her way.

I'm really happy here. It's miraculous how repeatable and reliable the method for making me happy is. Outdoors all day, some space, some people, enough sleep.

Be well, folks. Love you.

I've been doing a crazy amount of learning lately, and I've been surging forward full speed on a bunch of decisions. Let's see if I can get some of it down.

Sunshine + exercise + food == happy Greenie. This is no news to me or anyone. However, I'd been depending on work for the exercise and sunlight, and work right now is a source of stress and not a source of any of those other things. I had been (have been) having a rough winter; I've got a lot of changes going on, much of the outcomes outside my experience or control, and I can't afford to let this stuff slide. So, I've let my competitive instinct kick in and started doing hot yoga like Dave, just... more often. Every single day I do it I feel better for hours afterwards. I am keeping an eye on overtraining issues and not doing absolutely every single say, but it's good so far. It levels my head so well and is conveniently close. I may keep this up even after I start bike commuting.

Sunshine was really forthcoming this fall until sometime in December, which is when I started to nosedive. Exercise can compensate to some degree for light, especially since I'm being kept too busy at work to get out into the light during the week. Ugh.

I'm getting real good at eating enough, and at asking for help when I'm having trouble. It helps that my neighbour is always up for eating together and I can use her presence to put myself into a better place for food. This all gets difficult when I'm financially stressed, though the meat box and farm stuff really helps.

Sex is a problem in a bunch of different ways. I thought I had this figured out; I thought that by taking back my bodily autonomy so I didn't have to ask folks permission before making choices around sex I would fix everything. Instead I only began a learning curve totally different from the one I've been on most of my life. How do I decide who to have sex with and when? How do I deal with humans when I decide to have or not to have sex with them in general? Per instance? How do I deal with the fact that in people's eyes when I don't have a primary partner I am always on some level available no matter how much I protest to the contrary? How do I let people know the ways in which I am more available than suspected, and how less? How do I deal with not having enough sex, or with feeling subtle coercion around sex? How do I deal with sex that I want beforehand but don't want in the moment? How do I calibrate desire vs complexity and work? How much do I like emotions involved in sex and what kind of sex do I like, anyhow?

I imagine you folks who weren't in serious relationships most of your life are laughing at me about now.

I'm learning that I probably want to have sex with fewer people less often than I thought I did, because the complexities that come with it are just not worth it. I'm also learning how sexual compatibility and emotional intimacy work together for me, and how they don't always go together regardless of how much I might want them to. I think I'm learning that when something works, I should let it work, and when I need to push and work hard on something, I should probably drop the sexual aspect of it.

I don't know that my original interpretation of solo poly will end up being what I choose, after all. Especially with the time and energy I'm putting elsewhere, it may just not be worth it.

Romantic relationships aren't enough. In fact, even non-romantic relationships aren't enough. I've made huge strides lately in learning to have friends, people with whom I'm close in non-romantic, non-partnery long-term and very intimate ways. That enriches my life immensely. I've been treating my home, careful selection and upkeep of my house, with as much attention as I have in the past given major relationships. I really enjoy the result. I have decided to add my career to the mix of important stuff to give that much time and attention to.

This has resulted in my making some information-gathering dates with folks at my old school, formulating a career path, and now doing some more information-gathering from folks in the field I want to head into and (this is scary) applying to, not a technical college, but a formal huge sprawling university-temple of academia. I'm formulating a support team (emotional, physical, logistical, motivational) which I can do really well based on my previous experience with working through my diploma. I actually feel pretty confident about this path of mine, though it's me against huge and arbitrary machines within machines, which is never easy for me to deal with.

I may not be in Vancouver forever. I may stay in the Valley forever or I may not, but a million tiny roots are shaking themselves and working their way loose. I had never thought to leave, before, but in a couple of years I will be able to if I so choose.

No one's home but me tonight. I had a passover dinner at Anthony's that was lovely. I got to see some people I love spending time with, I got to participate in a Thingy, and I had an excuse to re-dye my hair. Now I am so, so, so tired.

I'm not even sure what to say beyond that, except that I felt so good to be coming home -- to *my home*, that hasn't changed despite the move to come -- and now I'm here and the space is quiet and welcoming and I'm in my home and it's good. Restful, relaxing: I really do like this. And now I can sleep.

The studio in Kits called me up and offered me the place today. It's a stand-alone building two blocks from work in a vine-covered yard behind a shop heated only by a gas stove, though it has a full fridge/stove/etc. $500/month plus utilities. Minuses: shower-only that's super-gross, shaded yard so no tomatoes, far from tarnsit (though pretty bikeable to anywhere) and the dealbreaker is that it's only six months to a year and a half before it's torn down. Now, knowing construction stuff that might actually mean five years, but the place on 42nd has come up three times now when I'm moving, then gone back to unavailable till I was moving next and so I'm going to roll with the sign being waved in my face there and take that one.

It's a bitch to give up the Kits place though. I mean, $500? Stand-alone!? With fire!!!

So now there's one light on in the house and the glow from the computer monitor, the cats and rats need to be fed, and I need to be tucked in to bed. It's very quiet here. I will miss the quiet: Victoria's never quiet and there are tons of sirens that run along it. OTOH I'll be able to hear water all night long when I get the fountain in. And... pottery wheel! And... space! And... it's my home. It just is. It doesn't even have to be made so.

I'm at that point of sleepiness where getting up from the computer is too much work so I keep trying to think of things to write to avoid having to do it. Oh well. Time to make the effort. Night, loves.

This weather is unreal awesome. It never got light out today, it just looked like predawn-- all day. It never dried out, the air was soggy and warm and the scents were trowelled onto it. I know I say this every two weeks, but it's spring.

I'm almost done working at my first installation. Walls are done, paving is almost done, we just need to do the detailing (should take just under a week). It looks awesome. I will show you pictures. After that we get labourers for me to order around (w00t!).

Just when I thought I was as strong as I get we started paving, by the way. While a big chunk of rock weighs a fair amount, there's something about precisely maneuvering a 2x2 concrete square that puts me right back to square one. I need to climb some just so my back can support the muscle I'm gonna be putting on my arms. This is getting ridiculous.

I've been advised to read and/or watch High Fidelity.

I'm going to take over Angus' place when he moves at the end of the month. The roommate comes with the place for a month or two till he finds his own space, which enables me to spend money to 1) get furnishings for my home or 2) spend all my money on plants for the patio until I can walk out there naked, surrounded by fruit trees and clematis. I'm betting a little more of 2 will be happening than 1. I'm also gonna put a greenhouse on the deck. Exciting! (!!!!!!!!!!)

I go to measure things today.

I am happy. Yesterday I ended up with a panic attack(?) at the end of work and spilling over into evening, which sucked. I always come down hard when I go up, and the night before I was definitely up. This part of my cycle always leaves me a little funny in the head anyhow.

Ahwell. Looking so forward to moving. This means I can get my stuff over there sooner rather than later! Time to start buying trunks to pack into.

In the beginning, the very beginning, I said: you're gonna break my heart someday, boy.

The title of this journal is watching the cycle: leaves to mulch to soil to leaves. It's because that's the only thing I can count on.

This week I talked to Eva about what-ifs, backup plans, and I tried to stay open and not close myself off to him in case I was wrong.

Last night I took the twenty up Victoria for 'a talk' that, when asked, he admitted I should have a friend around afterward for. I knew to ask that question. I was angry on the bus ride there, and I dreaded waiting for the bus because then I'd have to think. Luckily there was no wait.

He was upfront and straightforward. He made no excuses. He doesn't love me, he wishes he did, but he doesn't. He's not the sort of person who can continue on just like that even so, despite my many wonderful qualities. It's maybe the second time in my life someone's been so upfront about a breakup with me, and the first time was when I was thirteen. He held me, he cried, I cried. He said in the next couple weeks I could go to him for comfort if I needed. I said don't do this to me-- I didn't mean to say it, because he was being so good about it, but I had to, just in case it helped. He said he really wanted to be friends. I said when I get over the angry phase, I'm not there yet but I'll let you know when I get to it, so yes, comfort, but please could he not do this to me?

When I first came into the room he asked me what I meant when I said I loved him. I said no, just say what you need to say, and he did. Later I tried to put it into words: he's the shining thing that my life sudenly and inexplicably organised itself to hold up, rather than just curling and tumbling in an attempt to stay up with no particular focus. He is a reason for things. He is beautiful. He is... I don't know how to describe, it's a spiritual thing, he makes me ring. It's like a flower at the top of my head with a lacework all down my spine. Still when he smiled at me it gave me butterflies in my stomach.

He doesn't feel any comfort when I hold him in my arms. When he holds me, even now, even after that, it's still the best place ever to be.

It was seven months to the day from the date we had decided was the beginning. That was the day he came over to talk about rats, after the first family dinner where things sparked and Eva brought us together. We talked about rats for a long time, then things went silent and he looked up at me. I looked back. Eventually I went around behind him in the chair and bit his shoulders, and that was that. I took the day off work to see him get his tattoo and we went to the park and made out for hours, then hesitated before going to his place.

We waited to fuck for what seemed like forever, waiting for test results to come back (I do try to keep my STD tests up to date before the fact).

It was private. I called him babydoll, puppy, my love, sweetie, Mister, every pet name seemed to fit him. He called me ma'am and my tummy did bellyflops. I beat him with a cane for the first time and he liked it. I cried sometimes, after sex or during, because it was like god coming down. His body was built for mine-- ribcage fashioned to fit the length of my arm, his arms designed to curl around me just right to trigger all my safe feelings. His cock was exactly right. I loved the little bit of soft on his belly, the way it pooled out a little. I loved the flame tattoo on his arm, and the grapes. I loved the way he looked at me when I hurt him, his eyes got so big and soft. They were usually blue eyes, with a ring in the middle the colour of his year. He's a redhead. I notice redheads more on the street now, and people dressed in construction-worker clothes.

I didn't write much about it and I regret that now because it will slip away, but at the same time I couldn't.

I don't regret the thing, because it was spring itself. I think I'll be okay. I didn't, on the way to his house; I thought of bridges and knives. I don't do that, it's not my style. When I was there, though, the network kicked in. I thought of the people waiting for me-- Mom, my brother, Eva, Bob, and the web caught me, and I couldn't just lie down and roll over.

On the way home it was a feeling of unreality, like the last seven months had been a little miracle. They're over, sure, and I'm back to my regular programming.

I wanted to have his babies. I wanted to marry him. I wanted to do all those silly things, carve his name into my flesh, you know?

I don't really know what to do now. I still want a job that I can have children in. If men are fickle, dammit, I still want to raise a child. I have work - retail today, which may be awful but better than an empty day. It's the second-last shift, and 10-8, which is long. Then there's dinner with Eva and/or karaoke. Ryan was home last night. He held me, which felt weird -- he's so tiny compared. He let me talk, and he talked, and it was diverting. That was important. Diversion.

When people said they love me to that last post-- thank you, it helped. Sympathy would be a problem for me right now though. Love, yes. Caring, yes. Sympathy, no.

I'm a bit of a mess. I hate spring.

I never showed him Secretary, or Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind.

We never had sex in public.

When he was really sick I used to hold him and he'd feel better, but later on he wanted space to deal with it. A sign, I guess. He woke up at the same time as me, in the mornings. At night he'd tell me he was going to stay up, then fall asleep. Id' poke him and he'd sit up sleepily, trying to look alert, and say, 'I wasn't asleep'. Everything he did was adorable, odd on a six-foot-something construction worker.

He _was_ my springtime. When it snowed he'd get up, all excited, and put on his clothes and go out into it. It's snowed a lot this winter, and after awhile I started to smile too when it snowed. There's more to say, perhaps -- he was in Vegas for New Years, and I still have the message saved on my phone that says he wants me to be his forever. I want to save that message, but I don't want to listen to it for awhile.

His hair is still wrapped around the ring of my black collar.

His hands were much bigger than mine, a full joint plus some. Something about his cheekbones and lips was a song, a poem. I look at him all the time, even after seven months, just for the sheer pleasure I took in it. He does his best, he feels guilty a lot of the time over not living up to his personal standards which are high, sometimes unrealistic. He tried really hard in this, and he tries really hard generally to be a good person.

I don't know. This morning before work will be long.

I've done this to other people. Jan, I remember you didn't say much. I know why now. I'm sorry. I am so sorry.