Monday, October 05, 2026

The cottage is closed.

"A dog’s-eye view of history, includes certain details that human people might rather skip. I have no illusions. Humans are capable of anything." (and everything) (and nothing)

baby turtle in the garden





 “SO KLAUS, NOT too long ago I overhear these three dogs. A Ho-Chunk dog. A Sioux dog. An Ojibwe dog, too. They’re sitting in the veterinarian’s office waiting room talking about why they’re here. The Ho-Chunk dog says, ‘Well, the other day they were eating that good stew they make, just lapping it up right in front of me. That night they put the cover on the stew pot but they forgot to put the pot away. So I sneaked into the kitchen and I took the top of that pot in my teeth, set it down careful, and ate all the rest of that stew. Then I got in the garbage and ate the bones and the guts of everything that went into that stew. Then I wanted to sleep but oh, by that time I had the worst stomachache. I just had to go. I barked, but the Ho-Chunks, you know they sleep good. They never even stirred in their sleep, so, well, I just went caca all over the house. Now, I guess, they’re so mad they’re going to put me to sleep. I guess I'll go easy anyways. What about you?’ “‘Me,’ said the Dakota Sioux dog, ‘I have a similar story. You ever heard of the stew the Dakotas make with guts? It’s mighty good, and my owner had a big plate of that plus all the makings for Indian tacos in his pickup one day. He was driving home and I was proudly sitting in the cab of the truck when he stopped. He get out, left me sitting there with all that good stuff, and I just couldn’t help it. I wolfed it all down. Every bite. Man, was it ever good! But then I waited and waited and my owner, he was having a good time, and he didn’t come back. I tried to hold it for a long time but finally, well, I just had to go. I went all over that cab of his pickup. Boy, when he came back, was he ever mad! He brought me here. I’m going to be put to sleep too. And you, what about you?’ “‘Well me,’ said the Ojibwe dog, ‘I was sitting on the couch one day just dozing off. I was half asleep and my owner, she likes to vacuum her house in the nude, she was doing her usual housework. She was working on the carpet right in front of me and usually, even though I’m not fixed, I’ve got a fair amount of self-control. But then she bent over right in front of me and I just lost it. I went right for her.’ “‘Sexually?’ asked the others. “‘Yeah,’ the Ojibwe dog admitted. “‘Gee,’ said the other dogs, shaking their heads, ‘that’s too bad. So she’s putting you to sleep too.’ “‘Gawiin,’ said the Ojibwa dog, modestly. ‘You know us Chippewa dogs, we got the love medicine. Me, I’m getting a shampoo and my nails clipped.’” ~ The Antelope Wife and Woman 

(the dogs' sense of humor survives, for what that's worth)

that water temp was prolly ๐Ÿค dangerous, half hour after I got out I kinda warmed up to shivering, took a couple hours to get to just chilled then famished then crashed into the dark

it is very dark. and very quiet. and I am extremely alive, thrumming warm

hungry

Sunday, October 04, 2026

"A European publisher once sent me a design for Master Butchers Singing Club that was all huge loops of phallic sausages. They were of every shape and all different textures, colors, sizes. I showed it to my daughter and we looked at it in stunned silence, then we said, Yes! This is a great cover! I have twenty copies left of that edition. Sometimes I’ll show one to a man and ask what he thinks of it. He’ll put it in his lap and stare at it for a while and then an odd expression will cross his face. He’ll look sideways at the women in the room, point the biggest sausage out, and say, I think I see myself in that one." interview, Paris Review

(then what?) ๐Ÿค” duh she writes a story, that's what



it moves, along the back, like a cipher (the candle wax remnants)

last swim, that circled nub is me
cold AF but there is nothing else like it



"He used to be ironic and jolly, always with a sly humor and a broad goofiness. But his fear of losing her has made him serious....[she] has no idea he has lost his humor because of her." ~ The Antelope Woman.

Reading, always reading, shrunk down like when I was a kid hiding in closets with a hamster and flashlight. In The Wife, what took his easy-humor away ("he doesn't remember he's funny", that's a thing that happens) is cancer, stage 4 chances, and she stays away, worried at a distance but cursed, she believes, to always lose when the stakes are highest. For the best she stays alone forever, she decides. He survives and talks her out of it. 

Here, in this version, her child doesn't commit suicide (accidentally, she didn't really mean it, but). And he doesn't get cancer. But there is a cost, as always. In this version she has no idea that she is illness - her worry, her grief, her stay-backness, it's withering them all. 

Does Erdrich bring that around? Or is the child kept alive a permanent price paid, repaid forever, by this mother? Does my favorite paragraph (survival ideology) survive, in any form?

[does he ever say anything as weirdly funny as let's "get under the covers with sushi" again?]



VIRGO (Aug. 23-Sept. 22). The unfamiliar situation sends you searching for guidance. When none appears, you study how the place works and choose one small job you can do well. Your competence has a way of settling your nerves. You attract an admirer. 

I don't need more "admirers" 

Prior experience × present danger. If the caregiver already knows what addiction, psychiatric crisis, suicide risk, hospitals, etc. look like, current events aren't experienced in isolation. Present cues can activate old threat-learning. Sometimes experience makes somebody wonderfully competent; sometimes the same experience makes the alarm system exquisitely sensitive. Both can be true simultaneously.


"Here’s the real reason: Getting her children back feels like all the luck in her life is now used up. She doesn’t want to take any more risks. But I could have told her that from a dog’s point of view life is nothing but risks." ~The Antelope Woman 


I wake up already spinning inside what feels like saran wrap, tangling tighter. I keep moving - if you're standing in shit, don't sit down is one of my rules of thumb - but spinning is moving too. I can see already that for his sake and my own bandwidth, my successfully turning down the volume of immediate crisis has a cost - it will fade, has faded already, from the emergency response system in others' nervous systems (their BEMOANING wasn't helpful) - which is quieter but it leaves me alone with this now. I live with an adult (currently) disabled child who needs everything, right down to med reminders and side-effect management (like seraquil brain = halfday zombie, can barely track a thought til noon). He can't drive atm cz of that - can anyone else compute the simple resulting facts, such as no he can't just "pick up the cat today" because you decide not to be functional today(?) I don't get that choice, to just not-be-able. And nobody else has to compute jackshit.

And I am terrified-grateful he's breathing. So even tho I see all that ๐Ÿ‘†, there's nothing else I can do (feel) about it. 

The bar set at breathin - he's breathing, I'm breathing, you're breathing - it's gotta get raised ๐Ÿค somehow. We can't stay here, can we?

how to not - zach somebody

status: migration/commuting, gotta go close the cottage for the year, cross that "gotta" off my list ft. shrink my world even more. "manageable" is merely breathin for me.

at the duplex - last one my mom could paint - I will walk past it, stuff that down, get the meters read, gas turned off, all the things gotta get done, and never see it again

Bug (lil lifecoach) prescription - we've been trying for a week - so far nobody has gotten much beyond the potato part








Saturday, October 03, 2026

my sister (New Zealand)

 

I sent the pic of the dog and a tiny vid of Dball barking his brains loose to seal the deal. We are animal people. M. has been a CatLady always, fosters them, traps ferals and tames them and shit, and thru her/that, they can get their shit together for Ears for the cat - ersatz is one of TJ's fave words, it's like when you can't handle/have the whole/orginal thing, a smaller/lesser version might be for the best. The cat is their best, I'll take it, I will be very relieved for the poor cat who is "scratching himself bald" according to Sunshine, who then went dark. I cannot deal with her too, my patience is worn thin. The cat is a nervous wreck. So is the kid. Somebody deal with ersatz-Ears ๐Ÿˆ‍⬛️ for the love of ๐Ÿคจ. D-Nozl was almost tolerable for several sentences. M. is good for him. I've always been happy about their marriage, I figured she'd have him cleaning 6 litter boxes ๐Ÿ™ 

How is this my life? How does this make sense? I cook and cook and ponder, my mind unable to avoid nor fully comprehend the constants that it moves around and around.

Spiderlily asked me if I remembered this and I don't remember it. but when I looked on ebay, I found it right away / as soon as I saw it, I knew I'd had it, a fucking bunny cup, so I bought it again even though I do not remember it, because I've lost my mind ๐Ÿค so any piece of mind is worth restoring


what happens Janis?



let my hair down and went to the market, wanting sunlight on me and more food to cook, crystal rainbow kisses through the windows. a wee break from pressing.


update: after I walked around soaking up banana peppers and adirondack potatoes, I called the cat's Aunty eM. Eggs will indeed be housing secured in CT shortly ๐Ÿช„

wondering what happens after Trouble Shooting - I've forgotten


update: like magic 'you're going to have to take this cat' shut D-Nozl right up ๐Ÿ™„ - not gonna change the outcome, that cat is moving to CT the next time he steps foot in NYS. that's it, I am done ๐Ÿช„

update: just as I think "ok maybe this can be a day off from the melee," Sunshine texts she wants to kill herself ft. can't keep the cat cz he's itchy. (siiiiiiigh) I've become numb to grippysocks nutbaggery, I can't anymore with this shit. why can't anyone just do what they say for more than one damn minute? 

f u n c t i o n (try)

I gotta disappear Eggs ๐Ÿคฆ๐Ÿป‍♀️(siiiiiiigh) 







VIRGO (Aug. 23-Sept. 22). Have you ever spent time apart just for the pleasure of reuniting? ๐Ÿ‘€ A little separation gives each person fresh material so when you come back together you have something new to exchange. ๐Ÿค ?

The landlady went smoothly.✅️ Ears' friend from work will get first dibs on moving in as-is, furnished with big TV and a cat tower. Or family downstairs wants to rent the whole place. We'll sort which it'll be by early this week and transfer the utililies. Wipe the slate and look at what $ he has left. He said sheepishly last night, it's payday and I think they paid me more than usual - is that possible? Yep, you got NYS disability too for September on top of the disability insurance payment. 

And I have paid for everything for a month + all the medical deductibles. I have been hoping all the paperwork was resulting in some $ kinda paychecks kept coming throughout all this. If possible, I'd like him to start his next chapter with ๐Ÿค nestegg. Enough to feel intact, I guess.

At some point, "whew I survived " has to bloom into "yay I'm alive" - not today but what you've blown up must come down/land. He looked at his bank account, and he ordered himself jeans (bootcut). 

Today, I dunno. We gotta go to the cottage by tomorrow, time to close her up / one last freezing cold swim. But today, with the inlaws settled into wait-mode, we can stop running. 

I think I'll let my hair down and go to the farmers market this morning. Sing in my truck.

proof of life

Friday, October 02, 2026

I am very literal and material and embodied n shit atm. About well being. Does it feel well or not?  

song wanted, but music mostly left my kitchen with the migrating birds and troubles moving through 


buttprint wellness test





VIRGO (Aug. 23-Sept. 22). As Venus slows down, you begin noticing the labor inside affection: who remembers the details, who makes the reservation, who checks that everyone got home. This is useful information that may influence how you distribute your energy going forward.

๐Ÿ˜ต‍๐Ÿ’ซ

welp, that ain't schmitzful for damn sure. all they show up with is worry needing assuaged hourly (note to self: try not to do that) and reminders of it's HIS BIRTHDAY (the 7th) so WHEN IS THE BLUE FROSTING AHHH ๐Ÿ™„ jeezus christ

me: it's your birthday 

him: today? 

me: right? ๐Ÿ˜ต‍๐Ÿ’ซ no, like in a few days or whatever. uh don't spose we could ask for a few car payments? 

him: oh, they want to know ๐Ÿซฉ

me: ya and Bug already claimed your bday as hers remember? 

him: RIGHT so no problem

me: yes but there's no cake, no "party" per se, we were going with putting up a fuckton of holiday lights and a giant bowl of funsize candy bars for the cake

him: but I ate the candy already

me: you did

him: have them send a cake, that one from Wegmans

me: do you have any idea how much more work it is for me to assist them in buying a wegmans cake than it would be just to bake you a cake?

him: you're baking a cake?

me: today? no, I was going with brownies today

him: awesome!

me: you've lost the thread

him: ๐Ÿ˜… ya sorry - what's the problem? 

me: pork chops for dinner tonight sound good? 

him: awesome!

it's like that, while I work from home, showing up at meetings w deans this morning (high impact sightings, so fewer needed), taking care of this that and the other thing(s), like spinning plates on (slap)sticks. today on my list is tackling the landlord/lease/utility shutoffs...๐Ÿซฉ

Thursday, October 01, 2026

having to do endless emotional labor for the schmitz clan is wearing me down. 

"ya dont have to count me among the things you have to mentally MOVE AROUND" - try thinking like that towards Ears, I finally suggest, exasperated. AND TOWARDS ME, I don't say, but I'm thinking it.

Ears and I did have one laugh today - the waiting room + Sams Club slice of life ft and the hair thing is so absurd even Ears was giggling cz there's just no NICE way to handle it - insane people are mesmerized by my dumb hair and then the guy who spoke zero English in the Sams Club (got a freezer, leaning in) except "beautiful beautiful" pointing at his head my head his head - at least that guy was kinda hot, color of onyx, but still, as Ears put it, giggling like hell, "I don't see how ya work that (๐Ÿคญ) unless you're headed to ecmc or getting deported (๐Ÿคญ)" I'm pretty sure that's ableist and racist jeezuschrist๐Ÿคฆ๐Ÿป‍♀️ - at this point we're unhinged a bit - I definitely don't know how to socially navigate one word in common, to which I nod or shake my head (?) while Ears snickers ๐Ÿ™„. the woman with the drawn on whiskers was easier, we could briefly chat about her passion for origami at least.

I gained 4 pounds, right along with Ears. I figured it was about that much based on tit bounce-density, which I had tested today while he was at horizon for a while. mamos always fill me with raw terror, not the cancer part as much as the test itself, being trapped in the machine, clenched down on, I fucking hate it, so it felt like pricking my mental finger on purpose. a fearpain neutralizes a fearpain, short circuit, can't feel both at once. I didn't stay for results and won't go looking for them.

I am dragging us to yoga tomorrow no matter what.

fires

and food


all I want is you - the decemberists  coming out w a double lp tomorrow

there's a whole to-do list again today. we try to keep his to-do list short as possible atm. his care team agrees. we wrote together the polite "do not disturb" text(s) to his father last night. 

I told Ears the story of when I left EX, I sat in a chair one day and didn't move until I actually WANTED to do a thing - not cz it was next on a list or cz I had to or outa habit - looking for my self, what does it want really, even next right now? and I just sat there for hours til I had to pee / I really wanted to pee. sometimes you've forgotten yourself. he said (mostly to himself, as to a stranger) "what does it feel like to be bruno ๐Ÿค”" and stared out the window.

I don't know that ๐Ÿ‘†, obviously. but I'm in charge of him right now, so we do it my way until he has a way: come back to your body first. the mind is weak, as smart as we all are that can be confusing, but it's true imo - it breaks, it lies to you, it is often helpless in the face of strong negative emotions, contrary evidence, brick walls - your mind is like the permanent child you have to raise, throwing itself to the floor in hissyfits when your body needs some apple juice and a nap. your spirit, let's assume it is entact, probably doing most if not all the work of keeping you alive. that leaves your body. it is present. get outa your head, ask your body what it wants. it doesn't want a drink, nope your pancreas does not want that until your mind trick(s)ed it, whispering like a gollum. see the diff? 

keep it simple stupid, I oft tell my self. try.

VIRGO (Aug. 23-Sept. 22). You put thought, labor and skill into the result, so of course you want someone to notice. (eh) Give people a chance to respond. (ok) And if it seems like they are missing it, or misattributing the credit, that's unacceptable. (eh)

fun fact: statistically, you're much more likely to commit suicide if you've seen your primary doctor for mental pain in the previous 72 hours. his care team told us that yesterday. that night, when I panicked and called huckforcats, we were dodging a bullet even more than I knew/know now. I am not overreacting to grippysock jail terms, in general, they assured me. (I have had every right to ๐Ÿคฏ over that shit.) 

I showed them the dr note - they'd heard about it, their whole operation had discussed what the actual fuck, looking at the artifact agog. and then delicately suggested it's a good thing I live here, not CT dad (right?). Yes. then we/he wrote the Do Not Disturb for a while manifesto.

they asked, When do the suicidal sparks (not intentions still, but remnants of HABIT) occur? "oh, like today driving past that one tree I was gonna wrap a very long chain around, then around my neck, open the back hatch and gun it to 100 mph." (๐Ÿ‘€) Did you get the chain? "Yes." (๐Ÿ‘€) Do you still have it? "No no," he laughs sweetly. 

me: your old jeep couldn't go 100 mph and now you're really not getting your car keys back for a spell

him: fair


Wednesday, September 30, 2026

update: it all got done. (being competent feels like a superpower ๐Ÿ‘€ now) we organize life atm around what feels like we're breathing most/ easy . we check: you breathin? you'd be surprised how often the honest answer is kinda.

recalibrate. 

we'll be back at the cottage Sat a.m. by way of east aurora farmers market aspirationally.

bro in law morale supporr




now it's today 

so far this morning my trip to Honolulu was funded, but the paper (re Erdrich) not (yet) accepted - the $ approval came from the president - in her weird punishing way, she's trying to be supportive, followed immediately with another "invitation" to "communicate" - I am ignoring it all for now

there is no way I am accomplishing any cottage closing prep - I am leaving it as is for now

too much

Ears, that's it, that is all I can do. I gotta move his shit (down/up stairs), over to my house vs a convenient once to a unit, figure out how and where to store it today. I gotta host his adult protective service folk today. I gotta open all his bills, cancel cable (they keep calling), shut off utilities, close that up by tomorrow. Everything else is back burner.

I am hoping for a yoga but being realistic, swimming Saturday is probably the next time I will be inside me / my body.

Virgo: don't think, don't feel, get it all done.

-_0 anticipating trouble, the witching worry hour wakes me.

maybe earth and sky could meet here and that's why I always wake up and check (?). 

when it's today, I will have to strategize empty apt / get alll that $$$ pc shit to safety very efficiently (thanks nlr nothing D-Nozl), host MTV at my house, turn off his unpaid cable ... AND roll the schmitzclan over on its back and rub it tummy (the lameness of the key thing, damning). and work. and none of that can show on me as wearing in front of Ears EXCEPT humor, grit. he can't help this, he's sick. so I narrate it back to him as bemusing, assuaging and removing all I possibly can.

so I wake, make lists, the soul of magic of the mundane


Tuesday, September 29, 2026

you're never coming home - tariq el masri better - sultry despite title


I'm gonna swim

 run - odd marshall we've mostly agreed no music. but a little.

update: the spider caught dinner (a yellowjacket) - #liveaction 

update: called my mother. she fell. Sis didn't tell me, and mom is ok except. not. the rubberband holding my heart together now feels like it's cutting off bloodflow ๐Ÿ’™ 

we had one of these in Lewiston -  "Pippy" for the striped tights - and we watched it, admiring its ability to do math #teachingattention

tradition handed down


VIRGO oracle weekly

A Zen teaching says, "Before enlightenment, chop wood, carry water. After enlightenment, chop wood, carry water." But being the post-Zen teacher I am, I protest and say, "No, the chopping and the carrying ARE the enlightenment. There is no separate 'after.'" The sacred is ALWAYS lurking in the mundane, disguised as ordinary tasks. And you Virgos are potentially the zodiac's supreme master of this controversial truth. Others may chase after astral bling and transcendent glitter, but you know that divinity lives in the earthy details that are right in front of you. That’s how you transmute seemingly unremarkable stuff into the sublime. It’s time to wield your superpower to the hilt, please!

Yup. Attention to material particulars is a faculty of thought. Reading and mothering and loving and scholarship and cooking use the same cognitive operation: attend ferociously to the small thing(s).

VIRGO (Aug. 23-Sept. 22). Show respect in the details. Greet people, keep appointments, learn the customs and give each occasion the attention it deserves. Good manners tell people that their comfort matters to you.

That is the me thing but I dunno how to do it more or better. I don't know how to send a text that says "thinking of you, hope youre ok" beyond sending that, which is lame. ARE YOU OKAY? I HOPE YOURE OKAY is not a text anyone wants to get from me on any given day, I don't think. If youre reading this, I mos def sent that text to you in my head (and here) umpteen times. I am doing it right now. And you can assume I would much rather make you a pie or a plate of spaghetti or put a heavy blanket on you, warm you some real-life way. I am not Louise Erdrich. Words fail me. I'm reduced to candles, a fragile little flame in the dark that feels woefully insufficient.

I can notice how a strawberry might change everything, given time enough. For whatever that is worth.

the version my students read - they love this dog full of grit


Monday, September 28, 2026



there - one little change to who runs to the store / fetches berries for the cake - if you follow the cake you find the additional kid whose errand means 

this never happens.

Has anyone else ever noticed? The changing kinship diagram, of course. Where the impact exactly occurs? At the cake ingredients? No. And what paragraph (food making as intentionally infused love ideology in The Wife) must go missing specifically because of the shift in berries? No. Not that fuckergpt can find, anyway. That's a me thing. 

When I feel like I am going to fucking die, I just can't help it I'm just gonna die ๐Ÿ’” now, I follow cats and cakes around in Louise Erdrich for dear life. And go baking cooking butter-making batshit.

I have blogged that passage from The Wife before. When I was a wife. And we didn't keep a kid alive. I came back to strawberries (milk), then and now, when something rocked my world enough to stop it entirely. It's not one of my favorites of the novels, but twice I've reached for that cake, this story, that paragraph, around a pain reverberating through my body uncontrollably. 

I don't know how to write about reading like that. So I put it here. 

"Who are you and who am I, the beader or the bit of colored glass sewn into the fabric of this earth? All these questions, they tug at the brain." 

how The Antelope Wife ended ๐Ÿ‘†. I just began its revision, The Antelope Woman. which begins the exact same way (great story) unless you notice the author's front materials, the dedications,...

welp, a bunch more kids/characters born on the earth is bound to change some stuff (the kinship diagrams are back for one thing)

"She was searching the thick underbrush of her own mind....At the same time, she knocked rice. She parched and stored the grains. Killed birds. Tamed horses. Her mind was present because she was always gone. Her hands were filled because they grasped the meaning of empty. Life was simple."~The Antelope Woman 

after the key thing, we both decided not to go as far as the gas station for milk. status: #hiding #hunkered #shotnerves

I made the dip - he ate all of it with half a loaf of bread before it had cooled off, no pic, gone too fast

"I turned 2. We had a voodoo doll making party (naturally). Want one?"

that blonde ๐Ÿค”


naturally



update: D-Nozl "forgot" and took the key to the storage unit back to CT. can he mail it? ๐Ÿ™„ dude, Nebraska pulled that kinda shit to get my address (no). I feel a wee rush of fury, then adjust. we will have to move Ears' shit to my basement now since Sept is over (dumbass) while M. pays rent for my other kid's cello. I am not gonna answer or mark the text as read, he's gettin nothing outa me.


in my corner office, I read my student's diaries, always entertaining. examples:

Heard

Blowhard "is still being covered even though he banned the news" (๐Ÿ‘€ wth)

Saw

"saw my first dead body
saw a delicious looking pizza"



Javajeff came and went, bringing more wood and taking away a croissant. Ears and I had a running ? about him. I think he's around my age but seems ancient, Ears thought "he was a pretty young guy" so we were curious - 40 or 70? 

me: ok, how old is he?
him: I thought you meant the other one
me: oh plumber asscrack, no that's Javajohn, he's prolly like 35ish
him: honestly either could be your age ..
me: but "how you say? busted?"
us: ๐Ÿ˜…๐Ÿ˜…
me: see what I'm up against?
him: ya. pretty hopeless.
me: thanks
him: well I'm suicidal, so not gonna try to be upbeat about it
me: fair even if you weren't
us: ๐Ÿ˜…๐Ÿ˜…



not my sister's "corner office"



“His thoughts swam between us, hidden under rocks, disappearing in weeds, and I was fishing for them, dangling my own words like baits and lures.”

“I put my whole mentality to it, nothing held back.”

—Erdrich, Love Medicine

I am thinking my way, very hard, as hard as I can. It looks like baking imperfect croissants, head exploding emojis + lotsa sugar.


The gravity tugs harder. Lead instinct. Grave soul. And then I break into a short run, startled. What if? What if, just as sure as we are pulled toward earth and destined to go down into it at last, we are also at the same rate pulled toward heaven? 

No wonder we are stretched top to bottom from both ends of our being. 

~The Wife, Erdrich

Sunday, September 27, 2026

status: staying put until the next therapy/dr appointments.

we are working something out, silently. scared-to-death. of what just happened obviously (acute) but there's another thing behind that.

running from his father w his own parents urging it and M. was around urging me too, and I was afraid of him to death for my sake and the kids (chronic). and we just did it again, all that. and I was scared-to-death then because was I was suicidal. and there came a point that I knew I would do it if I didn't shatter everything. and run. to Lewiston eventually, but I was already doing this, what I am doing right now, alone / away from him / quiet, a kind of praying into the small stuff of life which is praying without ceasing if you focus on that small stuff. like food. sensual things. the weight of a blanket. everything that touches you, I deeply thought about it, lost in the how of it. all day every day, even when I was working, I thought about it. I had almost killed myself but/and now I was free, and intent on making more than a bunker, I was making a safe place to bloom, a home/reality of my own design without any awful shit in it, where I thought about everything, and considered "what is the most nurishing choice?" and did that until I felt better. it was the right move then and is again now. start with the basics - eating and sleeping and then asap get all the hate/spite/brooding/terror ie your bullshit outa your head, piss it out, drink water, piss it out, exercise a lot, do shit like sniff saddles bc it feels good and you can, eat cake. until you feel better. until he feels better. until I feel better. 

what do I know of how men go crazy? nothing. but Ears and I just wordlessly agreed to flee a very specific toxic masculinity and to embrace my old timey medicines for a spell









some terror still coursing through our blood (pissing it out)
fresh sage + chared lemon + butter + game meat = a miracle occurs



small life. I think into it, focus on it, like lighting a small fire from what was banked, blowing very carefully on it to nurture it back to a dancing flame



dawn




how Eve would have served up an apple if she had wild blueberries and raw honey




Saturday, September 26, 2026

harvest moon rising



"Earth and sky touch everywhere and nowhere, like sex between two strangers. There is no definition and no union for sure. If you chase that line, it will retreat from you at the same pace you set. Heart pounding, air burning in your chest, you'll pursue. Only humans see that line as an actual place. But like love, you'll never get there. You'll never catch it. You'll never know.    Open space plays such tricks on the brain." The Antelope Wife, Erdrich

cottage vibing

he loves building fires

these are what I wanted but we went for him, not me, so no

 
no laces ft every new life chapter needs boots

we couldn't keep them all alive but this kid we did

last thing you need - m. wallen (from GTA VI)