Starfish of Bloom
May. 22nd, 2020 09:38 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
ismoI had a restless and tiresome night in which I attended a con, lost my baggage, planned to go to LA, but forgot none of my kids live there any more, and ended up in an underdeveloped Slavic nation where I got chewed out by the landlady for damaging some heirloom pottery. But at the very end of the night, I saw my father. He was still old and in a wheelchair, but he was alert and smiling. While in real life, he shied away from physical contact, in the dream he did not want to stop hugging me. I was surprised and said, "You seem so much better since we've been here! We should come see you more often." With his arms still around my neck, he said, "Yes, you should come to see me, and I should come to see you. We should just keep visiting back and forth." I don't know what that's all about, but he was happy, and glad to see me. It's a step in the right direction.
This morning, the Sparrowhawk had a phone consultation with his coach about things she should consider with regard to opening the gym again. It's a serious question, since she has Parkinson's herself, and everyone who goes to the gym is in a higher risk category. He put her in touch with a doctor he knows who can give her good advice. She's a tough cookie and will make her own decision, probably a good one. After that, we went for a walk. Hardly anyone else was out. The day was soft and cloudy. Probably the lack of sun made people think it wasn't nice out, but I thought it was very pleasant. We went up to visit the apple trees. They were at the height of their glory, a perfect cloud of white blossoms and heavenly perfume. They're only like this for a few short days each year, and I look forward to those days every spring. We're now in the time I call the Season of Cherry Snow, when the flower petals blow on the wind like snowflakes. Of course, magnolias, redbuds, dogwoods, and apple trees also shed their petals on the wind, but I think Cherry Snow has a nice ring to it, and in Pennsylvania, the cherry trees predominated.
I think one reason I'm having some trouble getting to sleep is that we're now reading The Riddle-Master of Hed by Patricia McKillip. It's lyrical and brilliant, as I remembered, but perhaps not the best bedtime story. In fact, after the number of times Morgon of Hed gets attacked in his sleep, I'm surprised the poor man can sleep at all. "What will one star call out of darkness, one star out of silence, and one star out of death?" It's not exactly cozy! I don't want to stop, though. It's too exciting. I love the part where Morgon learns to shapeshift into a vesta, the swift horned creatures who run through the endless snows of Osterland and Isig. If I could be one of these characters so far, I'd pick Har the Wolf King. I'd like to be a shape shifter with wolf eyes, and live in a big wooden palace with a huge hearth where all the residents of the kingdom, including the foxes, felt free to visit. When I was young, I probably would have liked to be Morgon himself, because after all he's the hero, or else Lyra the Morgol's daughter, who gets to ride around in the horse guard with a spear. But I'm too old to crave a DESTINY, especially the kind that makes everyone want to kill you, and I'm definitely too old and crafty to be Lyra. I think the Wolf King would suit me excellently. He's about 600 years old himself, so that would work.
This morning, the Sparrowhawk had a phone consultation with his coach about things she should consider with regard to opening the gym again. It's a serious question, since she has Parkinson's herself, and everyone who goes to the gym is in a higher risk category. He put her in touch with a doctor he knows who can give her good advice. She's a tough cookie and will make her own decision, probably a good one. After that, we went for a walk. Hardly anyone else was out. The day was soft and cloudy. Probably the lack of sun made people think it wasn't nice out, but I thought it was very pleasant. We went up to visit the apple trees. They were at the height of their glory, a perfect cloud of white blossoms and heavenly perfume. They're only like this for a few short days each year, and I look forward to those days every spring. We're now in the time I call the Season of Cherry Snow, when the flower petals blow on the wind like snowflakes. Of course, magnolias, redbuds, dogwoods, and apple trees also shed their petals on the wind, but I think Cherry Snow has a nice ring to it, and in Pennsylvania, the cherry trees predominated.
I think one reason I'm having some trouble getting to sleep is that we're now reading The Riddle-Master of Hed by Patricia McKillip. It's lyrical and brilliant, as I remembered, but perhaps not the best bedtime story. In fact, after the number of times Morgon of Hed gets attacked in his sleep, I'm surprised the poor man can sleep at all. "What will one star call out of darkness, one star out of silence, and one star out of death?" It's not exactly cozy! I don't want to stop, though. It's too exciting. I love the part where Morgon learns to shapeshift into a vesta, the swift horned creatures who run through the endless snows of Osterland and Isig. If I could be one of these characters so far, I'd pick Har the Wolf King. I'd like to be a shape shifter with wolf eyes, and live in a big wooden palace with a huge hearth where all the residents of the kingdom, including the foxes, felt free to visit. When I was young, I probably would have liked to be Morgon himself, because after all he's the hero, or else Lyra the Morgol's daughter, who gets to ride around in the horse guard with a spear. But I'm too old to crave a DESTINY, especially the kind that makes everyone want to kill you, and I'm definitely too old and crafty to be Lyra. I think the Wolf King would suit me excellently. He's about 600 years old himself, so that would work.
