Feckless

More rain.

Light Rain
49°F
9°C
Humidity 83%
Wind Speed N 18 MPH
Barometer 29.79 in (1008.81 mb)
Dewpoint 44°F (7°C)
Visibility 10.00 mi
Wind Chill 43°F (6°C)
Last update 07 Jun 11:54 AM MDT

Lots of dreams, cats wandering through many of them. Eleanor chasing through a meadow that used to be at the arboretum. And I rode back and forth on a sort of short skateboard along the center axis of a house, an amalgam of this House, Aunt Alma's, on flat floormats. Once, my mother reached a hand around as I rolled past, and I took it and swirled around and hugged her. Not a warm happy, but not bad either. Weirdly neutral.

I sent my niece a b-day text yesterday, and got a friendly enough reply. I'm not sure why I did this, but it felt like the right thing. I try to respond when an internal prompt says, "do this, it's a correct action" without overthinking it. I can always overthink it later. I always have remembered her birthday. But when I tried to think of my other niece, her sister's, birthday, I had no idea. I looked it up, and it rang not a bell in my memory. I knew neither of them well, and only as small children, intermittently, as they are 13, 15 years younger. Teenagers are wrapped up in their own drama, especially when the drama is real. Then the bad marriage. Then lived thousands of miles away. And never had a feel for kids. Or family feeling, rather the opposite, more of an anti-family impulse.

Rains poured down last evening, and my rain barrel out front toppled, missing the newly planted grasses. I set up again this morning. I've looked into stands, and they get terrible ratings. The concrete tiles and blocks are sitting on dirt that I recently dug up to remove the shrub and defunct sprinkler controller, which is why it failed. Ah, well, there is supposed to be more rain today and tomorrow as well. The weather seemed to keep most of the helicopters grounded, which made sleeping easier. Tired of the racket, can only imagine how stressful living with that over years would be.

The rainbow flag went up this week. Took me three tries, the wind took it down, so I put up a new nail, wind took it down, I added gear ties, it stayed. I want to do something for Black Lives Matter, as well. It all seems rather important, but also important to do it right, and I'm not clear what that will be.

Found a knit, all cotton, long, shapeless, dress that is working wonderfully as a nightgown. Not at all flattering, so I won't be wearing it out and about, but it's lovely to sleep in. And it was 60% off. PJ pants were getting more and more uncomfortable, riding up and digging in. I don't like sleeping without any clothes, and sleep shirts wind up at my waist, bunching at my back. I like when I get up being able to walk around more or less decently, again for my own comfort. Sit down and have fabric between me and the chair sort of thing. My changing shape, more like a pear, and fluffier, wants clothes that waft, slip and breathe. I get that women of my mother's and grandmother's generations would sometimes only wear slips about the house in hot weather. Haven't owned a slip since I'd've had to buy one myself, and I've never done that either.

Waiting for the elm seedlings to declare themselves definitively as elms, then plucking them, or even digging them if possible. Everything seems to have grown by several inches overnight. On a half inch of rain. Also picked a fair amount of trash off the front garden, blown in by gusty winds or dropped by feckless pedestrians.

Long long ago, I saw Apocalypse Now in a theater with my roommate. Driving home, I made some sort of flippant remark, which seemed to shock her. It was my way of coping with that disturbing movie. Dark humor is my first and last refuge in the face of horror and loss, probably in the middle as well. All the welling up of ages old injustices with a light froth of current injustice, rattles me to my bones. I have to get up and go to work, so I quip and let it break over me. Or it will take me under.