Early morning, the heat broke and left the water warmer than the air, and now I can float better. Was I holding my breath when I got here? (Yup.).
Went to town again to buy more milk now that Ears has surfaced. They're fixing main street, I park and walk in, the man in the hardhat bowed to me, deeper than a nod and not a dog whistle, I don't know why. It was notable because his belly, like men of that age often, was a large hard watermelon - what IS that, and why do so many men have it? I don't find it unattractive, it just reminds me of my grandpa, which reminds me of my mother. Lately everything reminds me of my mother.
(Aside. Town = signal. Iffy but 1 bar. Enough to find that blogger itself broke my promise and took the harmless tits of my last post down. That's a new wrinkle. Hey Elonia, we know you're gay, honestly you're the only one who thinks THAT's the problem.)
I have been trying to learn how to be more like my mother, who had none of my delusions about herself (invincible, for instance) and had instead a will to see the Good and Wonder-Inducing Beauty in things. But how do you learn that? It can't be by DOING. She rarely does anything, old now, can't move easily, will soon need a wheelchair, and I will build a ramp, I hope in time for her to need it and before it is just another thing that will remind me of her, about which I will have to chuckle anyway because even in her prime she'd be like, why take the stairs if there's a ramp? 🤣 I think of her as Light, and I want to be Lighter. But. Maybe I have it reversed, as I have most things. Maybe what she is essentially Not Afraid of The Dark.
Trying to follow my mother through the Dark, then, into the Better. But I am not gonna (re)write the rest/worst of what she said. And I can't repost the thought experiments re what might be needed or wanted depending on mood and circumstance, any of which might trigger blogger to cancel me. I could post all the hate I wanted, because Hate is not the scariest word.
Everything I wrote and lost, the good and the hard and the filthy- sweet, it is better twas unsaved than censored. Guess that content is analog f2f again now, #oldschool
Experiment - hey Ma, play us a song? (Will Sirius or FM work here? For her, apparently yes.)
