Monday, November 3, 2014


I'm in the midst of cleaning the house.  Between my emotional and physical absences lately, and Halloween and a whole lot of children and life and all, there is not a surface to be seen.  I've 'addressed' the dressupbox which hasn't fully closed for months.  I have turned the sideboard into an art supply center, mostly to keep my husband from putting a fish tank on it.  I can't handle the fishtank, honestly, i just can't. fish? no. can hardly handle the idea that we'll welcome a turtle into our family any day now. (not a euphemism, i mean an actual turtle. actual turtle. ) human people are so damn weird.  why do we want to 'capture' everything? fish? turtles?  they have a place in the world already, and its really not meant to be the place where I am, pretty sure.
so anyhow, the cleaning is at that stage where everything looks way more fucked up than when I started, and here i am breaking to type to you. to here. whathaveyou.  ( i realized this morning that it is fully november and it didn't even cross my mind to try nonoblopo this year, not even a little bit.) and since i only wrote maybe twice last month, i'm going to do my best to double that one this month.  and then maybe a double again next month.  i've got to get back on the train, so to speak. to mix my metaphors shamelessly, i've got a long strange road ahead and behind, and i've got to keep on truckin' .
on the road less traveled.
with rings on my fingers and bells on my toes. 

(man, anything, ANYTHING to avoid the disaster the house has become.)

love to you.



MotherOfGooses said...

What a splendid strategy, if only I had thought to set up an art station where the poor, neglected gecko now languishes. I love to love things that grow up and need me less and less. The gecko's needs and the kitties'needs are the exact same as the first day they entered our threshold. I don't get the appeal. At. All.