I couldn’t sleep last night.  There was a red ring around the moon.  I almost woke Steve to see it, but didn’t because he was so tired.

We watched a deer in the backyard leisurely chewing leaves off of Mairi’s peach tree.  I didn’t have the heart to shoo it away.  It frightened the chickens and then the chickens frightened it.  Now there is a palm of the hand sized snapping turtle up on the driveway.

I had a long walk with a friend today and I’m going to be so sore later.



Well, I went arse over teakettle as Elijah put it.  I have a theory about how I fell, but it’s only a theory as I don’t actually remember.  I do know that I was chasing a mosquito at the time, so there may have been karma involved.

I have no idea how I hurt my feet, since the first thing that I remember is seeing my feet pointing towards the ceiling.  It’s a mystery.  (flashback to 1998 when Molli and I walked around quoting Shakespeare in Love)  I was very, very pleased that I hadn’t hit my head.  Yet another head trauma is pretty much the last thing that I need (it goes something like nuclear holocaust, being a prisoner of war, another traumatic brain injury).  Rejoicing, rejoicing!  Everything hurts, but I didn’t hit my head!

And then I stopped being able to focus my eyes….or my mind.  Everything was just fragments of thoughts that made very little sense…the leaf that looked like a butterfly, the woman who held me when I was a baby.  I urgently asked Steve where Iain had been for New Year’s Eve.  He didn’t remember and asked if it was really that important.  It *was* that important because it would have closed a loop of thought that left open made me feel ill at ease with my own mind, but I couldn’t think clearly enough to explain that. In short, the whiplash got me.  It can do that.  I didn’t hit my head, but my head hit me…brain bouncing off of skull…

While it was acute for a couple of days, in the end, the concussion wasn’t the worst of my problems.  Me being me, all sorts of things went out of place when I hit the ground.  I went to a chiropractor to try to put things right.  I told him that he must be very, very gentle, that my body doesn’t work like other people’s.  He agreed, but we clearly had wildly different definitions of “gentle”.  People just don’t understand how genuinely breakable I am.  Things went downhill fast from there.

Nothing is broken, but there has been serious soft tissue damage.  I spent about a week flat out on a mind altering level of anti-inflammatories and pain killers.

Recent update from elsewhere:

“My head isn’t bad. I’m still having issues with my hips and pelvis. I overdid it today, so resting on the couch while playing with my new camera. I’m mostly back to normal life, except that sitting in a chair really hurts, I have no interest in food, and I feel like I may never sleep for any reasonable length of time again.”

It was meant to be a positive update, but people didn’t really seem to take it that way.



I was hoping to go for another walk today. We’ve been sick for just about a month straight with back to back viruses and are finally starting to convalesce. I need to get some strength back into this body of mine. Instead I ended up on the deck, in a light rain, scrubbing bins from the pantry floor. The sky turned grey just after I got everything out there.

This is the luna moth that I had to sidestep every time I brought something out:

Iain makes fun of me because he can clean the entire pantry in like, an hour and a half, while it takes me 1-2 weeks during which time the adjoining rooms are in a complete and perpetual, but evolving, state of disarray.

I had this funny sudden whim to listen to John Mayer’s Room for Squares, which I haven’t heard in over a decade.  I used to borrow the CD from the local library.  I remember dancing to it while I was in labor with Galen (17 now).  I don’t know any other John Mayer songs; not a one, and have zero interest in hearing any more.  And I feel vaguely like there might be some controversy around him that I know nothing about?  But the first 3/4 of that album are like a place in time for me. I always stop it before the end.  I’m not even sure what song I stop on, but one of them towards the end annoys me and then I’m done…possibly to start at the beginning again.




I posted this yesterday for Me Made May, even though it’s not exactly me made.  It’s a ready to wear dress that I bought on clearance last year and went it arrived the fit and how it laid was just entirely wrong.  Usually with this style of dress the bodice is fitted, but there is a gathered skirt that flares out directly from the bodice.  In this case, the skirt is tiered and the first tier was very form fitting until about mid-hip and then flared from there.  It looked incredibly strange!  I should have taken a before picture.  I removed the top tier, regathered the one below and attached it to the waist.  The dress went from being ankle length to a midi, but it’s now actually wearable and I love it.

  Today I am sitting here in clothing that I have validly made from scratch, but can’t be bothered to go photograph right now, looking at what other people are posting for Me Made May, because I’m contrary like that.



I should probably try to catch up here this morning.  I feel like I should try to catch up, like I have some sort of obligation to do so, it has been three weeks, after all…. but I’m going to go sew a dress instead.



I took my afternoon coffee over for a visit with my neighbor today.  It was lovely to catch up.  She had a pile of craft supplies for me to sort through and take home whatever I pleased.  She said my decluttering had inspired her to do the same, which somehow ended in my happily taking home more stuff!  Hmm…

Easter egg colors.