Peony of Flourish
Aug. 5th, 2020 09:58 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
ismoI've had over 8 hours of sleep two nights running, so you'd think . . . but no, not completely. It is a sleep that marches in cycles. Sleep/wake/sleep/wake etc. What I WANT is just to sink into unconsciousness and stay there. Last night, the wake parts occurred in a context of interminable barking episodes from nearby dogs, persistent snoring from another nearby pet, and a VERY LOUD SMELL of skunk outside. Someone must have offended that skunk deeply. A smell that is strong enough to wake me up repeatedly is pungent indeed. Still, I'll take it over the 4 am waking. This morning I had a dental appointment at 9:40. I just don't like going to the dentist, even though it's only a tooth cleaning and no big deal. My blood pressure shot up, and I was worn out after an hour in the chair. So that was my morning. En route, one of my tires registered low pressure. The Sparrowhawk put air in it. If it's low again tomorrow, he'll take it to Discount Tire and see what they think.
It was a cool, windy day full of changeful clouds and shadows, the kind of day that makes me wistful for the lake shore. We sat out in the back yard. A hawk was somewhere about, occasionally uttering a harsh scream that set the small birds a-twitter and made the jays yell out their indignant alarms. My stomach has been killing me intermittently. That doesn't help with the sleeping, either. I'm hoping it will go away in a couple of days. This day one year ago was the day I succeeded in being late to my own mother's funeral. I felt sad and couldn't do much of anything. I found it very comforting to read my old journals and recall all that happened--many things I think I would have forgotten if I had not the prompting of a few words to bring them freshly to mind. Frodo had "a white gem like a star," Arwen's gift, to give him aid when memory troubled him. In lieu of an Elven gift, I put on the cheap blue-flowered locket I gave my mother long ago, with baby pictures of her first two grandchildren in it. The smooth enamel is comforting to clasp.
If all we got for all our trouble
Is just this box of souvenirs
Still it's worth a lot just to remember
Just to know that we were here
("You're Gonna Need This Memory," Pierce Pettis)
It was a cool, windy day full of changeful clouds and shadows, the kind of day that makes me wistful for the lake shore. We sat out in the back yard. A hawk was somewhere about, occasionally uttering a harsh scream that set the small birds a-twitter and made the jays yell out their indignant alarms. My stomach has been killing me intermittently. That doesn't help with the sleeping, either. I'm hoping it will go away in a couple of days. This day one year ago was the day I succeeded in being late to my own mother's funeral. I felt sad and couldn't do much of anything. I found it very comforting to read my old journals and recall all that happened--many things I think I would have forgotten if I had not the prompting of a few words to bring them freshly to mind. Frodo had "a white gem like a star," Arwen's gift, to give him aid when memory troubled him. In lieu of an Elven gift, I put on the cheap blue-flowered locket I gave my mother long ago, with baby pictures of her first two grandchildren in it. The smooth enamel is comforting to clasp.
If all we got for all our trouble
Is just this box of souvenirs
Still it's worth a lot just to remember
Just to know that we were here
("You're Gonna Need This Memory," Pierce Pettis)
