Happy Easter!

Safety first!

Baba Yaga

One of the very strange side effects of the migraine meds appears to be, that when I'm going into full-blown migraine mode, I'll experience what can only be described as... a thinning of the line between awake and asleep. It isn't nightmares, or hallucinations; it's closer to sleep-talking and sleepwalking in the midst of a dream. There are very specific dreams that I'll have when a migraine is brewing, but I'll be closer to wakefulness as well, and will often talk, turn on the light to try to see better what's happening, or try to get up, until I realize -- oh, not real, and then I can lie back down and try to sink back into the depths of sleep again. I'm not quite awake enough to take the migraine meds right then, unfortunately. 

The dreams all have similar content, in a way: I'm anticipating something -- an end-point -- waiting for something to get to a goal, and if that goal is achieved, then something bad will happen. (This makes sense, because my brain is waiting for the migraine to arrive.) The imagery is always weirdly earthy; vines, nature themes, forest-y. (I feel like there may be a Star Trek: The Next Generation episode where the Enterprise turns into a vine-laden environment - perhaps Masks? That seems somehow reminiscent.) It's never frightening. It's just... anticipatory.

Two nights ago, I was working toward a migraine, and found myself roused out of sleep and contemplating what looked like some sort of fairy-tale crone -- Baba Yaga? -- standing next to the rocking chair in the bedroom. Hmmm. She clearly didn't belong. So I turned on the bedside table light. It was frustrating, because when I am mired in the migraine forest world, everything I do happens quite slowly despite an overarching slight sense of urgency about the whole situation. But: she was not really there. OK then. It's just a migraine. 

I've always been a vivid dreamer, so it all seems to be just an extension of that -- a crossover between dream world and migraine world. It's very odd. Not scary; kind of interesting. I do prefer vines and plants to Baba Yaga, though. 

Maybe next time, I'll see if I can hear or smell the migraine forest, or if it's all visual. If I'm going to be Migraine Queen, at least I can try to explore my realm. 

Like You Mean It

 Today's earworm: Like You Mean It (Steven Rodriguez).  

I heard it first on TikTok. Go figure.

Am I too old to enjoy this kind of music? The Offspring would probably be duly horrified.

Cover your eyes, children:

F**k me like you mean it
Make me believe it
Walk the wire, it's alright
Love me like you need it
'Cause I can feel it
Take it higher, show me why

Perhaps a woman can still dream.

Good Luck, Kate

 Well, we finally learned where Princess Kate has been.  She's come forward to explain that following her surgery, she was diagnosed with cancer. She didn't tell us what type, or what stage, or provide any details. (Nor is the public entitled to any of those details.) 

Oh, Kate. I'm sorry. It's hard enough to be in the public eye. To face such a diagnosis, and to have to manage your children's feelings, all while the world watches, must be very difficult. I wish nothing but the very best for you. 

Zoom a Zoom Zoom

 Herself speaks.    

I had a Zoom call with Cherished Friend last night. It had been a while since we'd last spoken -- since January, perhaps? -- which seems like a long, long time. It's somehow simultaneously easy, and extra hard, to allow time to slip by in between conversations, when Life is busy and there are houseguests on his end and social obligations on my end and time zone differences and when I am taking a bit of a trip on the Struggle Bus. I am hesitant to ask for a call, because I do not want to intrude on his Life; and yet, I want very much to have that call, so that for a couple of hours, he is more clearly a part of my Life, through the magic of the internet and Zoom. 

It was lovely, as it always is. 

-----

I have been thinking a lot lately about how I need to make some local friends: people with whom I can do small things like attend the little farmer's market nearby, take an occasional walk, go out to dinner with when Beloved Husband is out-of-town as he has been for much of the past two weeks. It would be really helpful if I could have someone serve as a body double to get onerous tasks done on occasion. And to talk with about things large and small, or about nothing at all.  It is not fair, or realistic, to rely on Beloved Husband for all of these things, because he is very busy, and has so many of his own activities. I need my own village of People to keep me company. I need Friends.

-----

Cherished Friend -- as I was reminded during our Zoom call last night -- is exactly the kind of Friend I enjoy most: intelligent, interesting, witty; the kind of person who makes you think about Stuff, who is sufficiently politically different to be challenging, but always willing to listen; and ultimately, kind. He does not make me feel stupid or inadequate for my point of view. And he listens. I am comfortable with him. I could talk with him for ages, except he lives sixteen hundred miles and two time zones away. 

I cannot imagine feeling as comfortable with anyone else.  And I'm stymied in my thoughts about making additional friends locally, because I don't actually want new friends locally: what I really want, is my Cherished Friend locally.

That's not to be. 

I do not want what I cannot have.

So I need to pull myself up by my bootstraps, be a grownup, and work with what I can have. Identify and make surface-level local friends, and keep my Cherished Friend where he belongs, in Oceanside. 

-----

Sometimes, when I am having a Hard Time, I worry that one day he will wake up and realize that he's not interested in maintaining the friendship any longer. That I am simultaneously Too Much and Not Enough, to be worth the effort over the time and the miles. Pathetic. Needy. No Thank You. 

And I could not fault him, really. His life is full enough, without his having to tend to a long distance friendship. I don't want to be an obligation or a burden. I'll go. 

Until that day, though, I'll be ever-so-glad to schedule the occasional video chat, and enjoy his company, through the magnificent tool that is Zoom. 

Ragmop and Goose

 I follow Ragmop and Goose on TikTok.  (General note to Congress: don't ban TikTok. Just don't. That's ridiculous. Why don't you spend your time on more worthwhile endeavors, like infrastructure or homelessness or healthcare or getting along and being productive? Just saying.)  

Ragmop and Goose: puppets of adorableness. They posted this ABSOLUTELY DELIGHTFUL vignette on TikTok the other day. I've tried to paste it below, so you all can enjoy it, too. It's so... pure. Wholesome. Lovely.

It reminds me that there's still good in the world. Even when I am having trouble seeing it from the darkness where I sit.

You can also find Ragmop and Goose on the interwebs. And on Instagram too. Go follow them, and your heart will be a little bit lighter.

Cloudy

The clouds roll across the nearby mountains, and the winds (twenty-five miles per hour, or more) gust regularly. It's the Windy Season here in the desert.

It's migraine season. It's the worst. 

I wish I could go out into the middle of the desert, and feel it all roll right over me, through me, and become one with it. Perhaps, then, I could find equilibrium inside my head, and the pain inside would finally cease. 

Kansas

Beloved Husband and I went to see Kansas in concert. I'm not nearly as fond of live music events as he is, but knowing how important these types of Experiences are to him, I'd purchased these tickets especially with the thought that he would enjoy the occasion. And off we went.

It's hard to know how a band will be in person vs. in studio, but Kansas did not disappoint -- they were quite good live. A bit loud (but I do bring earplugs, because I am One Of Those People), but good. The audience mostly behaved (though the woman directly in front of me became a bit bored at one point and scrolled through her phone with the brightness on approximately the level of "dwarf star" -- cripes, ma'am, turn it down), the music felt good (I do enjoy the actual physical sensation of live music), and the classic songs were duly part of the repertoire. It was overall a success. 

Let's see what music event I can find for next time. 

Did I Explain It Enough?

Whither Kate?

 I'm not normally one to gossip or even to pay much attention to what's happening in people-related news, especially when it comes to the British Royal Family (because they and I have absolutely no relevance to each others' lives), but I'm compelled at this point to wonder: where is Princess Kate?

The British press is a weird, tabloid-driven entity, often cruel, overly prying most of the time, and weirdly tight-lipped at the moment. I'm sure there are many things we don't know about the Royal Family, and there are lies and half-truths and "alternative facts" that abound. Nevertheless, the sparse announcements about a surgery in January, a long hospital stay, an even longer recuperation expected at home out of the public eye, and her absolute absence from anything anywhere, is... concerning. 

There are other rumors that abound now, too. More nefarious. Ugly things, about domestic violence, her husband having a mistress; or worse health issues, eating disorders, mental health breakdowns; and just plain weirdnesses, such as her appearing on reality television as a masked singer. (Now that's ridiculous.) Who knows? No one is saying. Which is the strangest thing of all, really -- people aren't usually that silent.

I've always liked Kate Middleton, in a from-a-distance, she seems very nice and kind, and always looks so glamorous, sort of way -- she's a sort of woman to admire without knowing very much about her. I really hope she's doing OK. 

Thinking of you, Kate, and wishing you well, wherever you are, and whatever is happening.

Feel All The Things

 This morning I had a conversation with someone about Feeling the Feelings.

So many of us, trained from youth, to avoid, suppress, tamp down, all the Feeling of the Feelings. Especially negative Feelings (except Anger, especially in Men. Men are taught that it's OK to be Angry -- but nothing else.)  

How else can we be fully human, though, if not through Feeling All The Things? 

What is the worst thing that will happen, if we Feel A Feeling? 

-----

What we should all really do, is learn to be comfortable with sitting with other peoples' Feelings. Because sometimes, Feelings are most safely Felt, when in the company of others. 

Today's task, which I assign all of us:

Feel a Feeling. 

How is it? Are you comfortable? Uncomfortable? What does the Feeling tell you? What have you learned about the Feeling, and about yourself?

Do you need company in your Feeling?

If so, I am here for you. And your Feeling. 

TinyBun

This weekend, we worked on tidying the garage. (A monumental task, to be sure.) This included weeding some bins that contained old stuffed animals -- such as this wee tiny bun.  Rabbits have, in fact, long been a theme in the house.

So cute.

Theme

This past weekend, while Beloved Husband was away, one of the activities I assigned myself to get out of the house was to go to a local store and get a new tablecloth and runner for the dining area table.  There were Easter items on sale, and so I ended up with a rabbit-themed runner, plus a few other rabbit-themed tablecloths for the kitchen table as well. 

Why not? I'm in my Rabbit Era at the moment, having all the pet Buns and all. I'll look back on this time fondly one day, when the rabbits are all gone. Rabbits it is. 

Young at Heart

 Beloved Husband has completed another trip around the sun. Cheerful; eternally young-on-the-inside; a man who is fond of Dad Jokes, of four-wheel-driving in the desert and motorcycling and traveling along on the open roads; the human whom the rabbits all quickly approach in the hopes he will share bananas with them. 

He works hard, plays hard; enjoys spending time with his friends from a wide variety of walks of life, not only from business acquaintances but also from extracurricular activities, and even from as far back as high school. Everyone loves him, speaks highly of him, relies on him. 

It's a full life he leads, and each year seems to pass in the blink of an eye. I do the best I can to better his life every day --  to ensure that all the minutiae of Life are handled, so that he has the time and freedom for what he desires. 

Happy birthday, Beloved Husband. I hope you find time for all of the Good Things.  And I hope that all of your dreams come true. 

Picturesque Bun

Ms. Poppy likes to recline just near enough, that if I get up, I will disturb her. And so I sit, quietly, while she relaxes nearby. 

She sure is a pretty bun.

Weedy

 I spent an hour weeding the front yard. It was nice, in its own way. 

The yard sorely needed attention. Some of the weeds came up right away; others, though, had tenacious roots and clung petulantly to the rocky soil. 

Some weeds just looked plain menacing.  Audrey II-type weeds. Ominous. 

Yikes. 

Twenty-Nine

 Offspring the Second turned twenty-nine today.

He's fully fledged, living his own life. We don't hear from him terribly often -- he's always been his own person, a Man of Few Words, so it's not surprising.  As time goes by, I find myself missing him more: his quiet wit, his thoughtfulness, the way he would be kind to the elderly pets. His encyclopedic knowledge about all sorts of things. 

He will always be Infinitely Cooler than I am. I'm OK with that. I wish I could touch upon his orbit more often, witness his life a bit more. Maybe I'll try to find a time to go visit his neck of the woods, just to see how he lives. If that's OK with him -- I don't want to intrude. 

I'm so proud of him. I hope he knows. He's such a bright shining star, an intelligent, magnificent human being.

I wish good things for you always, Offspring the Second. Happy birthday.