I was gonna unblog all this, but again I am choosing to leave the trail of thought-crumbs. I ran to my own cottage today to get my hiking hat, bare summer minimums that I've not needed once yet, too busy climbing out of the grave to do anything else all season. The septic there is overflowing, another mess/expense to deal with 🙄.

good thing I was crazy enough to move one of my trees to the cottage, and that I braved their mess to take a piss and flush the toilet 🤦🏻‍♀️

I am running around buying compost and cantaloupe seemingly (life), but I am trying to unbreak in reality (Live). "We should fix each other." Yes, please. 

-----

The appraisal came back on my new house. Upshot: my sister is right. Everyone ELSE is invested in everything going smoothly now. Sellers, agents, brokers. Nobody gets anything they want/need if it does not go smoothly. So unless called upon to do A Thing, I am going to let them all handle it all for a spell (let that spell work itself now). 

Attention turning to next steppings. I need to pause ordering skirts that look good with boots, summoning drool days, because I will need to move anything I buy but moreover I just put in a mail hold (no deliveries) Sun-Sun. 

Considering I haven't been able to pry any time at all out of his web of obligations (my mom could better than I lol). Considering that Ears doesn't know what PTO his job gives him if any (that kid is SO like me, jeezus). I have no idea how to "plan" for Tawista; it's not really up to me anymore. I did my bit. I suggested a do-over on that time we were not there together tho he wanted to be. That broken looks easy to mend in retrospect; Tawista heals, always has. "Yes!", he said. And if I could get that, even though they no longer rent it, would Ears want a day or two.. "YES!" So, I summoned Tawista back into our lives.

Now here it is, another "when" that I get to say, starting Sunday.

If he can. If he can. Two men, two wild cards.

So I am gearing up for what I think will be like a portal I've opened. It'll remain open for 7 days. I will be on the other side, maybe alone the whole time (?) Or maybe fucking and playing games after dinner. Or maybe some combo of those things on some subset(s) of days. I am thinking of what to take with me, like a tiny version of the radical downsizing choices ahead. I shouldn't bring too much, of food or loungerie, the kinda things that I would need them there for to need it. But not none either, because at any moment, either or both COULD walk through the portal. And I am a person too.

Are either men likely to tell me when or if or for how long they shall be?, she wonders. I know what "say when" means. They both know me, so that I would figure out how to say it should be no surprise. But. This little Virgo is all about reality, how it really is/feels (mouthfeel!). Especially in the case of Huckleberry, fantasy doesn't exist unless he brings it into my equation (yes, please) and he's maybe still (re)learning that I can only mean what I say. But Ears knows that when he steps through that portal for even just day, there will be waiting... 

Johnny's meatballs

Flavor of the year ice cream from Stewart's

Beaver Bite beer, also from Stewart's 

Me swimming through witchmate waters in my underwear (if anything)

🤔 so that's all I will gather, plus books/writing/weed for my own little self. I could bring other things, such as enchanted cock rings or ingredients for dip, if requested (?)

every chance I get I want you in the flesh - dan aurbach

Update: Sold. Not the HUGE payday that got me hot n bothered for a second, but I am not disappointed by that - it's enough - and entitled motherfuckers write checks with their mouths that their asses can't cash. But tiz worth noting that I am no longer the only person who thinks like that. EVERYONE in this ENTIRE process has come down to "who do you trust". Nowhere on any contract does it say that, but that's the new economy. I see it everywhere. People find jobs, work, housing - all the Maslow things - through friend networks, reverting to trading/barter economics. When offers came in, we reviewed the WHOs in Whoville and made the final decision based on the WHO factor. We accepted the offer made by and through personally trusted folks, even though the other offer looked better on paper. Since we don't know the WHOs of the cash offer, we only can imagine how that person might fuck me over. There is no benefit of the doubt anymore.

He said that for me it matters TO WHOM. He is 100% right. And that still might just be a ME thing when it comes to intimacy. My problem only (?)

But I see it applying across other vectors of life now, more and more. Blowhard is creating an ecomomy of VIRGOS. So here we are, at the first "when". I have done what it took to say when about one thing to one person. As promised. 

objectively speaking, covered head to toe in magic dickbutter atm, including thru my hair with macadamia oil, no make-up, no photo-smoother ... I think I look Aliver, little by little by little (?) - wish my mom were here to confirm 

VIRGO (Aug. 23-Sept. 22). Your mindset has shifted. Your emotional energy has changed. Because of this, the world looks different to you. It's evidence that reflects the work you've done internally.

So I've been told. Mostly as an accusation. Yes.

Today is the aspirational "review offers day". Either this strategy worked or it didn't. If it didn't, I lost a 5-digit bet. If so, I'll survive, one way or another, but I am not going back to a 'way it was' that broke me, regardless. 

My kids are all adults now, yet with me in this waiting. If you wouldn't wish your life on your kids, don't model it for them - a touchstone rule of mine. I am praying 🙏 today is a happy one, but it might very well give me nothing but more shit. So, it matters most that my rudder is deep enough for storms. Because life hands you a lot of storms, the worst often of your own making.

My youngest kid, who does not believe in private property in the first place, is waiting it out while visiting her father. EX has not changed. He's living on a bucolic farmette that M inherited. My daughter is texting me true heartbreak about his divorce from reality, feeling sick, in real time. Your parents matter allllll your life. So no matter what, bravely and soberly is how I have to face today. And even if the strategy does work, it's not a "success", it's a successful way to face how much/many I have failed. And my children are all as aware of that as I am.

Fight is exhausting, flight has been exhausted. 

song tbd

A wave of panic washed through me, but I grabbed the feeling and pushed it down, felt it fall through my body, pool on the ground around me and evaporate. Fear could not help me. Magic might. ~Sycorax

I unblogged all (below) after writing it last night, not happy with how short the words fell to capture what it feels like to send myself out of myself like that. I'd have to be able to paint, like my mother, because tendrils of intent streaming out of me doesn't have words. It's healing - which goes both ways - and makes everything else recede to the background. 

With almost no warning, I had to flee because the buyer my heart wishes to lay a hand on, want this take this from me, suddenly reappeared at 12:20 wanting in at 12:30. So I threw on clothes (...wait did I remember underwear?),

Yes.

jumped into the truck w dogs and just DROVE. Found myself at a nursery, no shade, so sitting in the AC looking at a pink flamingo of all things. Guess I would have to buy it. 

I tried "play me a song", hit the radio button - it opened to an ad about healing hearts at CHI cardiac. 

So I'll pick. 

one more dance around the sun - great lake swimmers

Not for nothing, the man last night looked (in peripheral vision) kinda like the Mr Potential in my house atm

------------------

Last night, putting it back up for now because I was spellcasting with no purpose except pure intention:

I get there, but it's not her, the schedule just hadn't been updated to account for her leaving (it's hard to keep up with all the ghosts). The new teacher, graceful tall blonde around my age, is nervous. She's not NEW new but she's not used to a whole clutch of newbies ("home from college") who uh are about to a get a not-relaxing yoga experience and not be able to do it by half and maybe barf. The teacher asks me to practice in the center at the front so they can watch me. Sure, no sweat. Behind me is a clutch of college girls (Groupon, prolly). Flanking me are two young men, bearded both, furry - you get the picture. They are not new, they're injured. The teacher has told them all to watch me and do what I do. But they can't, I don't know them or why but they have modification blocks which are like prosthetics sorta that you use to do something for you that you cannot do. 

So. I have to do the whole class perfectly. Any winging it I might allow myself on the reg, I can't do that or I will risk injuring them. I mean, I woulda kept to the traditional practice just for the girls, but they're like green twigs at that age, you can't break em, all they need is an encouraging smile. But these dudes aren't that young, old enough to need a fix-it. They need more than a smile.

This isn't, believe it or not, an erotic story. 

It's not lost on me that they are beautiful and that's probably part of why. But it isn't lust that comes over me. A STRONG urge to be PERFECT, as far as I can be, and RESPONSIVE in the peripheral, try to understand the injury(s). Understand: perfection and responsiveness are opposite, like 'by the book' v 'what works'. In a perfect practice, you only look at your own two eyes in the mirror. That's the whole point. All the sweating is to help you beat yourself as hard as you gotta to be able to do THAT. So I can only look at me. They're shadows that I can see just well enough to know the broad strokes. So I can only utterly control myself and offer what they can follow. And I am flawless - it's been 19 fucking years doing this, flawless is the easy part. What is difficult is sending all of it outward toward them with all my attention, and to make micro adjustments as I go that might make it possible for them to do without the prop-ups. By halfway through, I have honed in on the guy to my right. Pain btw shoulder blades or maybe a chest problem, one or the other is fucked up, and it's the same problem either way: constricted. Either convex or concave. 

I can't explain the practice itself, like the specifics, except one way: with my own body. That. That thing. And it works. Small example, changing my breathing and slowing it and willing him to match it. And he does, and doesn't give up the mod but does get back up off the mat and tries again. The more he breathes, the less he gives up. And I am focused completely, everything else falls away. I am willing my body into the perfect expression of the postures, slowly, methodically, STOPPING when he does, taking another breath (I could always use one too), and so on. I do this with all my body (like how other people would say "with all my heart"). At no point am I thinking about fucking this guy, he is not in a fuckable category right now. But what I am doing is the sexless version of sex. I am talking to this man, about pain and when to back off it, push but not to breaking, find that line and accept it. You can't move forward if you don't know where you're at, and the only way to know is to push yourself until you hit your limit for today and accept it. I say all that to him with my body.

took this earlier, first of a "building back" series

We never exchanged a word, respectful curt nod only.

VIRGO

Sunday, August 03, 2025

As if overnight, somebody's thoughts about a situation (I'm happy to cat-sit for free, I love kitties!!) may well have crumbled beneath the weight of their feelings about a situation (e.g. I've developed allergies, I'm overwhelmed with responsibilities, you can pay me or forget it!). So bear that in mind as a management hint.

I am aware. "It's right there" = behind the thick glass of a hyperbaric chamber. I finished the movie (in pieces around fleeings), so I know what "say when" means now and that now isn't when I get to say it. About anything to anyone.

A Night in the Ground - Trent Willmon

VIRGO (Aug. 23-Sept. 22). Resentment weighs too much. You're better without it. Say what you want. Say no. Say yes to your own fun, your own peace, your own right to take up space with joy. You don't need a reason. Just do it.

 

"your right to take up space with joy" sounds like something my mother would say

straight line - keith urban 

I want to go to Paradox with him and get a growler because I just want to. 

born running out of time - lukas nelson "..don't outpace my heart lalalaaa" 

"summoning different time"

In a right-tided world, we would both be Okay. And in my work, case studies like his would be part of how I do it, and he would no longer be in the place of actively being a case study. He is writing me a second one now - don't think I've forgotten the case study of the kid, oh no - quite the contrary, that trauma is now part of the failure of "whole person care" case study if (when) nobody, EVEN THOUGH THEY KNOW HIS ASS, connects the dots between the stress test tomorrow and STRESS. Will he connect dots, out loud? What does "know better" mean in this case? It's not an easy answer. There are costs for exposing your whole person, which could cause new traumas, folks are very rightfully guarded.  How does a trauma brain parse all that? 

I see a pattern of his ONE, I extrapolate. How many parents of children who have had a traumatic life threatening protracted illnesss themselves grow ill with trauma-related disease such as panic attack disorder? Subset the healthcare worker parents. Story of one, closely read it. Then widen the lens and there it'll be, a pattern. I am rarely wrong, honestly, about this kinda stuff. Take a little pattern you saw (through his eyes), go get grants. 

Or, this time, change the tide of the earth 🌊 . Cz fyi, case 3 of these interlocked case studies so SOUTH easily. This, the parent, would be C-2. Good doctoring needs to happen in C-2. Not just technically good, I mean insightful. 

I do (did) have a lot of fun with getting good at this. But it's not worth a damn if it doesn't save a life right now. Two of them. 

I have faith in my mother. God shines through her. I will never know exactly what my mom said to him, and fretted about it at the time, but it doesn't matter. Whatever it was sent him upstairs with an ear to ear smile that was 100% authentic, and that kiss was happy. And seeing him like that made me feel good. 

It's right there. I just need to change the tide of the earth 🌊. 

Update: Wheeeeeeeeeeeeew 🚬 my nerves are shot. But, another day ✅️  It takes a village, they used to say. Feels too hard and messy for that metaphor now. I think it takes a warm pile of people who are intimately aware of each other's chosen battle: To Be Okay (Really). That's it. Stop everything else (NO) except Yes. 

VIRGO (Aug. 23-Sept. 22). You're in this spot for a reason. Maybe you're still growing into it — that's how it works. The ones who care most always wonder if they belong. That question doesn't hold you back. It keeps you awake, aware, rising.

The pest control kid stopped by yesterday, rebait the rat boulders, a thing Nebraska pays for that I figured it'd just end when I leave so no need to talk about it. But everyone takes pics now, of every delivery, of every service, to prove it's been done. So a pic goes to him of the house and I get an email almost immediately "wishing me luck" with the sale. It's inevitable. All he has to do is send the dogs a treat from Chewy, and boom, gets a photo. It took less than 24 hours to track my life decisions and inform me of his power to do so in the form of "being supportive". 🤮 And today, I will have to flee, go to the cottage for starters, dogs in tow, their collars tracking us all. In the jeep, whose payments I must make, but he dealt with annoying shit like pairing the phone ... both his and mine, so, I assume he can just track the truck itself if he wants. There is nothing I can do about any of that but hold steady while triggered. There is nothing I can do about being triggered half to death between that shit and my house full of people today, pawing my things, me racing to find my grandma's squashblossom so I can put it in the safe that takes 10x to get open, which is why I hid it God knows where in the first place. Steady steady steady, eat something, breathe.

That is all I can control: me. That's it. Until I am on the other side of this, all I can control is ME, my physical person, which hovers at 100 pounds of what feels like pure grit held together by will in the shape of a woman, more or less. I am my own sandstorm to walk through. 

Later, I calmed down hearing about blowtorching hearts to play tetris, which soothed my nerves a lot. Report to shrink, haven't seen him since the kiss she saw, but he is "there" as I go through this, as am I for him, which she will affirm (fyi, if you had a shrink she would affirm having a 'psychological support system', believe it or not we're healthy, all things being relative). 

Although this feels like an extreme test of my ability to accept it, it's simply true that all I can control ANYTIME, always, is me. That's it. And my body will die, some dumb bloodglob is gonna take me down, so ultimately I cannot control that either. Except today. 

(Shrink will remind me, TODAY, that's why some people count days sober, to keep track of that CONCEPT, today is what you have, not to just endure but to be in fully.)

Today I can get up (I am doing so right now, writing myself awake). The menagerie will arrive soon and grab stuff to move, what we can, 2 women and umpteen kids including a pissy turkeyball who will cry if not held, so 3 adult hands (1 gotta hold the damn baby).

"Turkeyball"

Then me and the dogs in the 2-faced jeep to take a shrink appt on my phone in a parking lot or side of the road, then stay out all day somehow with panting dogs and sweaty kids, all while my home is being poked and prodded, my collages taken down and put back crooked, a million ways that it's just ME somehow that is being sold. And I must allow it. And I must land at 6 pm at yoga for my friend's last class, no matter what, so I will work backwards from that, from what matters most (your People). 

Grieving - Leith Ross

how to save a life - wyatt flores

That ("idea stealers and greedy feelers") is what came to mind today, as the showings begin and my horoscope says I hit a sweet spot where I am paid for what I have to offer, and I thought "being wanted, me or my stuff, isn't the problem - if they want it they try to take it and if it's me they want then they knock me down to take that too". So. Yeah. This house, I could SEE IT, and others could not (thanks Dad for my house-eyes). Now it looks like what it was, Buffalo in its first hayday. It was built by the people who cast Buffalo's spell, the Queen city of lights and theaters, artists and performers, the walls covered in mirrors to reflect it back, two Lucille Balls for the price of one at every party literally. And while I restored it, I built a whole discipline around the suffering people who really live, work, and die here in hospitals on fire and under fire. The house has been broken into or invaded umpteen times now, and that career was stolen. Everything, the end of my world, "they", the powerfuller, came and took everything. Tried to pay for it with compliments, like glass beads for land. Metaphor intended, as it included "thank you for all you have (had)", an acknowledgement that I will never forget the mouthfeel of. Many hard lessons that I needed. To reTHINK, reverse blink.

Weekly oracle: 

VIRGO

 (August 23-September 22)

The love-fakers and promise-breakers and delusion-makers are no fun, but I think you will ultimately be grateful they helped you clarify your goals. The reverse healers and idea-stealers and greedy feelers are perilous to your peace of mind in the short run, but eventually they will motivate you to create more rigorous protections for your heart, health, and stability. In conclusion, Virgo, it's one of those odd times when people with less than pure intentions and high integrity can be valuable teachers.

"Healing yourself is connected with healing others", Yoko Ono

"A dream you dream alone is only a dream. A dream you dream together is reality", John Lennon 

The Yoko quote came up among shrinks. What you have to do to heal is not selfish, it is in service to others (reverse blink). When I looked it up for the original context, I found it's paired with that quote of his ubiquitously. 

"The term "hierophant" is the name of the fifth card in the Major Arcana of the Tarot deck, often depicted as a religious authority figure like a pope or priest. In the context of Tarot, the Hierophant embodies tradition, spiritual guidance, and structured learning."

The original/traditional card looks like the pope and represents teachers. To make my own set, I considered every symbol and intention of the original, then made collages that would work ON ME, that would bring to mind what the card intends but in MY language. So, when I must rely on my spirit (mind and body drained), what kind of spiritual guidance would help me? Who/what mentors me? The spirit of home, Buddha that sat by the door in Lewiston, flowers from my own garden, a mason jar not a fancy thing like what holds communion wafers, the woods not a church. And that photo of John and Yoko, "wholly giving over" (trust). 

I do too much. I wear myself out and deprive others of their ability to DO TOO. I know that. It is a strength that can be a weakness (all strong suits have a weakness). I am doing my very best to heal, stop the spiral, turn this all around. I send naked pictures, summoning time. I post songs, serenading. But HE is naked, in that photo, not her. Don't get me wrong, it makes me feel soooo much better to take a shower, smear myself with butter, pull on silk, send photos, serenade beneath the window of his phone - all that helps ALIVE. And I have no intention but to More Alive. 

🤔 But if it helps me, doing those things, would it help him to do them / send pics / his versions of seduction, whatever they are now? ALIVE-wise? That hadn't even occured to me. Until today. (And it ain't like I don't want it, duh. I'm just an idiot.)

Lay down I wanna talk to ya - Dierks Bentley

I was going to unblog this but I will let it stand for how today felt

Update: Final walk thru, last details of the contract discussed. I'll sign it in the morning. I can't whip thru it quickly enough on an e-sign (they make you read the fucking thing). I don't even want to think about it any more. It hurts, Leaving. Even if you want to go. Because let's face it, nobody ever wants to Leave. Nobody goes anywhere if they are safe and happy and FULL enough where they are. People flee what's killing them 😶🤮. Or they die. It's pretty simple and really hard.

It feels like I have to wrench myself out of myself to save what is salvageable. I'm good at it. Doesn't mean I don't half hate being good at such a terrible thing. So satisfying but only if it saves a life. I built a LOT here, it was, is, the prettiest house I ever will live in. A millionaire's house restored completely. People are stunned by it, how good it all looks (on paper).

"dusk"

But it was not like what I built in Lewiston. It was not a happy home. There were some happy times in it, but. Not like home. Not like 'the only thing missing is'. Nope. I've been as broke to shit, glimmering in plain sight.

I know there can be no Living part until Leaving gets done. But it's very hard. It feels like someone shoving something under my sternum. I call it a sob jab. I want to fold forward around it. A rubberband ball of ouches. That fucker has got to GO. Maybe shitting out kids makes me more able to know when it's time to bear down? Now.

Once it's done, it's done. There was no choice, this "living" isn't sustainable without fatal injury. One must love one's life not just withstand it like a tinman in the rain, stuck without drool. 

If you wouldn't wish your life on your kids, do not model it for them. 

The agent thinks it'll be sold inside a week. As soon as it's contracted, then the moving can begin. Starting with everything marked his/yours, everything from Lewiston, I've more than used my timeshare up on OUR home, now it is his/yours. Or moving it can wait til closing if that's too ouchie still, i.e. after Tawista, which is 2 weeks from today, Sun- Sun. 

I want turnovers from the bakery in Inlet. 

Aside from the mountain of legalities and the raw pains of moving, I don't know what comes next that's sweet beyond the turnover (hopefully) and promised rambling meaning of life's absurdities conversation(s) "under the covers with sushi". I love that phrase. It makes NO sense, which is perfect. 

Right now, I only need to believe in an afternoon. 

GEMINI (May 21-June 21). You are trying to be kind, generous and honest in an ecosystem that punishes those very things. When your tactics don't work, leave and try them somewhere else. A thriving person is often a well-placed one.

VIRGO (Aug. 23-Sept. 22). A royal play is unfolding. Someone will re-enter your chambers, not to conquer but to be conquered. And you will never even lift your scepter. The force of your presence, the power in what you've already commanded, the scent of your power will do the rest.

The final days of Venus in Gemini offer a chance to connect, flirt, explore and express without the weight of definition. In this airy phase, the heart gathers impressions, tries on possibilities, flits from thought to feeling like a butterfly choosing its bloom. If something matters, name it now — before the current turns inward and tides roll home.

Name it now: I want the 💝asstat next time, if there is a next time, like that, with anyone, to be on me. I want to have a return address. I cannot imagine doing that. I cannot imagine exactly what those feelings even are, is what I am saying. 

Doesn't matter how or why, who died or didn't, upshot is I found a revision of "the talk" in my own head/heart/body: If anyone is getting a name 💝asstat, it's me. Like name and serial # so that what's left of me will be returned to the person who would cry the most / give a shit / want the battered pieces.

"A body cannot feed when its heart is filled with yearning." ~ Sycorax, Nydia Hetherington

No, it cannot. And I am not hungry. The listing goes live tomorrow. Today, I must throw out all food. Kitchen empty of (my) life, so they (whoever they are) can imagine theirs here. From now on, I will either waste $ I dont have not-eating alone in restaurants, or I will eat alone in restaurants. smib

Feel free to play the 'play me a song game' as I chorechorechore...

lotus #2 coming up ft clockwork - each its own little milestone 

"But hush. My thoughts make too much noise." ~ Sycorax, Nydia Hetherington

I could use a love song - little girl with shih tzu (maren morris cover)

"spirit animal"

 

 

I'm going to noon yoga. Fave teacher and friend. A medical error crippled her husband and rewrote her life completely, brutally and forever. Trauma, all the longest teachers/students, Without Exception, that's what we know/share. All different kinds. So many ways to go through the windshield of life, including literally. All I can do is worry and wait. Or keep throwing as much magic as I can, the way I do, staring my self down in the mirror. Choosing the latter.

https://youtu.be/mU9CkwEbOfA?si=aj0W1LyvEnFJk2zq "Home"

Update: VIRGO (Aug. 23-Sept. 22). Thinkers may linger in doubt, but it's the doer who crosses the finish line. A smart plan is ideal, but any plan — or none at all — will do, because once you're in motion, instinct takes over.

Right. Put down the plan. It was drawn up by an ego anyway (mine, yours, whoever's). The only thing that lies more than booze is the ego. So chase me motherfucker 🖕. Right out into the open where I can get cleaner shots off.  

---------

It was Stacy. Stacey? Jello Shots. I am looking for the photo of him in a hospital bed, heart racing, hands shaking, getting tests. She sent me the photo. It was the look on his face. So purely deeply sad.

"...from many years before, she can map his initial disappearance from her life that time to a question she asked him: “With what are you alone?”  From that moment, he would begin disappearing and reappearing in her life..."

I am not going to link back to where in here that note is exactly, it would only upset him to read it. To read "he's all yours", as if rolling up and dumping him in pieces on my lawn.

And I did approximately what I am doing right now. Putting a stop to it. With the same sense of urgency. Even if I had to befriend the stupid girlfriend and then her stupid boyfriend, hold off mothers-in-law like zombies behind splintering doors, move heaven and earth just to get back to losing him again to it, not understanding, it's ABOUT THE KIDS. 

It's always about the kids. 

I still don't understand it all and probably never will. I know the first groove he can remember is 8 years old, the age our respective little girls are now apx, and I know it stays in there, a crushed puppy or whatever it is, a groove of trauma that loves to eat brains, like a rift opens and into that rifts runs your brain chemicals along with everything you try to fill it. I dunno all he does about the human body, but I know more about trauma brains. His and mine.

How could he be alone with this divorce? It makes no sense. But I am now alone with this. That's another thing we both do. It would be really good if we learned to not do it anymore with each other. (Therapist confirmed.)  In what context did I even ask that first question, still THE question? "With what are you alone?" I don't remember. But essentially, I asked it again. And essentially the question hurt again. 

Thank God my mom left, she'd be demanding to go to Mercy, unafraid utterly to tell the wife and Normandy to go fuck themselves, and why isn't his own mother on his side EVER enough? She'd be losing it. 

There isn't even a damn girlfriend to befriend. Can I have Shotglass's number? Hi, I uh, well ya might know me already sorta, kink as selfhelp ft teacher fetish?, but right now can you go take a pic of him in whatever hospital bed he's in, hopefully just hooked to an ekg thingy? I need to see his face. I'd call Honeybee, but drinking buddy, I was a functional alcoholic recently. The kink was pretty healthy, the drinking was def not. And the 2 don't mix well in a 40+ year old body. By osmosis, the booze would lessen if I could just..

The card of the day is the center of the simple spell to break this cycle (let this house go). 6 of coins. If you need help, take it. If you have help to give, give it. To have more room to do THAT THING, and yes he inspired me to move FAST to do it, I had to let this house go. It's not about $. It's about THAT. 

He would say to be worried about cardiac something whatever - ever trained as they all are to compartmentalize, diagnose, cure, done. But I know better. Even if his heart is what he once called "floppy", it's alone with all this shit that's the root problem. Shotglass for one bit, pass the butter for another part, Honeybee for I'm not sure what part, but scattered like that then nobody SEES IT WHOLLY. So he's alone. His normal. And that could kill him. (I should know.)

Please don't make me grieve you. Ask for anything else. 

I think I might be giving him a wee heart attack and I am truly sorry if so. But we have to feel real things. 

can I call you after rehab - devon cole you can call me needing bail, we've talked about this ...

I don't know why. But from the moment of Yes Please (runner up choices: Help Me, Say When) + I'm Your Huckleberry thrown in, I've had a feeling like he'd be caught. Not cheating (N/A), or even leaving (wait, do his people ever just divorce forever as a way of being married? I hadn't thought of that), but by glee in his voice. 

It would stand out as atypical. 

Get caught by whom in what way, tripped somehow by what cosmic ottomon, to what end ? - no idea. And he might even throttle it himself as unfamiliar anymore, talking god knows what smack at his own self. So before, no during, whatever that fork was/is, I had to outpace it. 

"Loungerie" 

At the last minute, the mortgage dude called me, if I pay off the mortgage in less than a year, he is penalized. Heavily. Nobody knows that, the realtors can't know anything about how he makes a living. Prejudice somesomething. He was just out on leave. I know what that means in any industry. If he processes these mortgages for me, like this, to get free of them NOW, he is fucked. "I won't then. I will wait, hold the funds in a CD, pay it off in one year and one day. Because I need to get freer of the boot on my neck, and help anyone I care for do the same." Loooong pause. So many PAUSES. (Do you trust me, gay man who has no reason to trust anyone?) 
Okay. 

Photo people is how it starts, the glam shots. Final fussing in the yard. I decided to take a TREE with me cz that is the kind of hairpin I am, so I start digging it up. I throw on some music. Let's play the play me a song game, since he's sooo quiet atm, sucking blood globs with eye forks ..

you don't want to love a man like me - big al anderson

(HAHAHAHAHAHA)

That surely cannot possibly be for me. But since I've been up since before dawn, am now just too tired to fuss anymore, might as well sit here and listen to it again. Bemused.

1. Don't tell me what to do. (Unless we are fucking, then I might bow to your greater expertise.)

2. ...well it doesnt matter cz that song wasn't for me and photo dude is here...

I realized something - I don't know what "say when" mean means either. (I don't think you meant arm wrestling rt?)

Today the listing process begins. Photos, foorplan, it'll be a "showcase listing", there will be drones and sq ft lasers, god knows what all. All I have done for days is bust what is left of my ass for this. It will probably be frightening today. I am so small and this is all so big. #LittleSpoon. 

But, it's true, somehow, that if I stop, everyone stays stuck. Yesterday, K got ANOTHER job - 2 years of no call backs and bullshit, then 2 jobs in 1 week. He is going to install and maintain pools, private and municipal, including every YMCA in 3 counties. Just when I am looking at a pool ready expanse of a yard. I can't remember the last time I saw him like that. Spark of hopeful. 

These are small things that are so big actually that they define the horizon. Or forshorten it, choking not in a good way. I am crying a liitle already, knowing how shaken tired I will be by tonight, watching Landman without my mom and busting Boosts just cz I will be out of all effort and maybe heart too.

But it's okay. Tomorrow is Friday. I have a salon appt, girlchatter! while hot oil sinks into my frazzled chorehair, cz that's what salons are for, Barbershops for women. My stylist had Cushings, the first regular person who knew what cortisol was, and where/how it hurts. She washed my hair a curl at a time through all that, trying to save them. She notes each new one growing back now, little streaky corkscrews along the nape of my neck. 

I cannot hope he is on call this weekend cz he hates it. But I will deserve some kinda GOOD GIRL!! after today (no?) - just sayin 🤷🏻‍♀️. 

I'm your huckleberry - mike plume 

VIRGO

Sci-fi author Octavia Butler wrote, “All that you touch, you change. All that you change changes you.” The coming weeks will be prime time for you to honor and celebrate that prayer, Virgo. You won’t be a passive dreamer, gentle traveler, or contemplative wanderer. Rather, I predict you will be a tidal force of metamorphosis. Parts of your world are pliable and ready for reshaping, and you will undertake that reshaping. But it’s important to know that the shift will go both ways. As you sculpt, you will be sculpted. As you bless, you will be blessed. Don’t be shy about riding along on this feedback loop. Do it with reverence and glee. Let the art you make remake you. Let the magic you give become the magic you are.

moon river - audrey hepburn "my huckleberry friend"

 Solo + me rocking a bikini

Only photo I have of him, he didn’t last long obviously 🙄, I knew I'd stumble across it, "Sisters". Probably it's little expectations like that make me brace myself, and THOSE are fair, normal, fine. My brain is doing what it should, more or less, more and more. Is this a knife fight / active shooter situation?, it asks. If no, then 🐐. 

It'll be less tiring once my brain just puts the knives down and shifts to other more appropriate responses. And crucially has other stimuli to which it is responding  👁 ideally ones it wants

I have to stick this landing and make this place ready to seduce someone else. Listing photo shoot got pushed up to Thursday. Sooner this part is over, the better.

Not gonna lie, this isn't one of the fun parts. But this is not my first rodeo, Huckleberry. I know what has to get done, at least about this shit. I'm moving a mountain so the horizon changes = My bloodglobs wheelhouse. I am focused. Intending to win this round.

4 wands

6 pent

= 4 coins 

Stability born of necessity.

I don't want either of us stuck one minute longer than necessary alive in dead bodies, is the main thing 💤

Thru it all, my health tracker finger thingy says I am getting BETTER. My sleep has dreams, like a normal brain. Whatever I am doing, keep up the good work. 

still only a B, but "solid", like a star sticker on my homework

As the first of his Twelve Labors, Hercules strangled the Nemean lion, a beast with skin so impenetrable he could only skin it using its own claw. Hercules then wore the hide as armor — that classic lion-hooded look. So we enter the season of pride, when our confidence cannot be cut down except by the claw of self-criticism. Step into your own legend. Wear what you've survived.

I am unpaused holistically. I am stone cold soberly concluding that at the end(s) of the world(s) we are living in, it is fundamentally life affirming and thus sane to start breaking new fucking and love ground(s) around here. (Recap.) 

I put 10k down on the new utterly unexpected house this afternoon.

I picked the song for the photo

link

Less than an hour later, I looked up and found half dozen cops filling my yard, chasing somebody(s) that had hopped my fence AGAIN. My heart didn't skip one beat. 

VIRGO (Aug. 23-Sept. 22). A family situation stirs again. Your role is evolving, and this time, you won't accept the old assignment. You're building a new dynamic one sentence, one choice, one subtle refusal at a time. Keep going. 

Update: can we be still - georgia harmer only song I heard today - no driving, I had to focus, but I said I would listen so. I am letting yes algorithms write themselves on whiteboards in my mind.

It is my father's birthday today.

I had gotten very skilled at throwing some daughter at him, then scoot before the attack(s), for years and years. But I was trapped this last time, no scoot unless I left him to die. Which I chose not to do. So. He reminded me of damage he did to things I loved, how exactly he hurt them, killed them, helpless things that could not defend themselves, demonstrating how small I was. Tinyfeeling. I put a mental belljar over those details long ago. I remember the rage, of course, but specific instances like the puppy I named Solo because it was already all alone, that took my breath away. And I was already barely breathing when I got there. That's why. Because I was small again. 

I will wish him happy birthday because my soul my choice. 

song tbd, I'll listen for it

Reading the Gemini Moonlit Room

Are you skilled in the art of reading the room? The most effective communicators never skip that step. They shape the message to fit the audience — aware that people respond when they feel understood. When options seem disconnected from lived experience, reactions follow. Under the late Cancer sun, the wisdom is in emotional attunement — and offering direction that's truly reachable.

That word again. Attunement. 

It had just started to peep in my own mind, what has been off-limits for and in me. But it shut off like a circuit breaker. He said he wouldn't choke me (off) without warning, but he didn't say anything about cutting the power. I am learning things. 

Such as, I did not write or even think these thoughts at all, no words, until he said "unpause", Simon says pause style. I would call that a witchcommand, delivered with the raw efficacy of No. The 'art of medicine', all those chats about decisiveness as a power that one projects or not. Call it what you want, I S T O P P E D. Respect. One No-slinger to another.

think of one other word that means what you mean by 'unpause'

"Painted turtles can tolerate their body fluids freezing due to adaptations like the production of glucose and glycerol, which act as natural antifreeze. They can survive freezing temperatures and even the formation of ice crystals in their bodies up to a point..." 

Inspection day. 

You know me better than that. George Straight.

VIRGO (Aug. 23-Sept. 22). Don't punish the version of you who said yes to life, who was warm and a little awkward as they reached out, hoping for connection. These are not mistakes; they are gestures of aliveness.

I am sorry. I didn't mean to cause any pain or harm or anything bad.

"Paused."