Silent

So quiet today.



Moby in the cat-trap, with prismatic ceiling. He's mewled for D, I suspect. Fussing without aim. Sleeping now, not a bad way to cope.


Got a massage, and was quiet then as well. In part because the therapist had a lovely natural silence. I used to take a heavy hand, glad to breathe through the pain for the sake of getting to the other side with all the knots untied. But over the past few years, I've found that sort of massage left me in more pain, more ill, too mobile. So, I ask for shiatsu, which is better. Today, took a very gentle massage, feeling - not quite fragile, but in need of softer handling. Not the sort of work I usually ask for, but I think it was exactly what I needed. Followed by a steam bath with eucalyptus. That was marvelous.

Wept a bit, not over anything in particular. Gratitude over tenderness, in part.

Missing D, of course. Keep wanting to tell him something. So, I send a note, knowing he'll pick it up once he has connectivity. I hope he's enjoying himself with his friend N.

Attended the street festival, which was a pretty good walk. Nothing much interesting, two poor bands, one was pretty good - very Western-country. The usual booths of jewelry, crafts, novelties, local politicians, public services and charities. Mild temperatures, but in full sun with all that concrete, I got way too warm. Thought about getting food there, but nothing looked appetizing.

Took down more sunflowers, dropped them on the verge, let them catch leaves and nourish the poor soil over the winter, while letting the birds continue to feast on the seeds. Figure out what I want to do there in the spring. Aside from clover, and whatever decides to come up. Putting in more crocus in the close north section, where the enormous stalks left divots and loose dirt. Even got a bit more of the damn plastic netting from the old 'lawn.'