There are definitely two of me right now. One is exhausted, can’t remember to wash her hair (did you know your hair can start to dreadlock in a week and a half?) or do laundry (because how do you wash what you have been wearing for two weeks if you are still wearing it?) I’ve been eating, yes, but rarely enjoying (does feed the cat though), haven’t stepped out of the house since the 27th of April when i sent a dear friend off to the airport to go home (i actually made it to the parking lot to do that) after she came out for 10 days to straighten me out, and the other is exhausted of being exhausted, of messes not cleaned up, of boxes and bags of fabric and dyes ordered but not touched, of fresh air not breathed in, back garden not tidied for a new season. Then i repeated all that but did go out 2 days in a row when my son came out for a whirlwind weekend visit the 21st of June in which he did pretty much what my friend had done and that i had let go of again…..
Did all of that make sense?
In January, we lost old Sally, the cat we inherited from MIL. In February, i lost my Beloved. In March, i lost my Mother. In April, Nessie the DogFaced Girl passed on.
The weekend that J was here (my darling son) we took the ashes of Sally, Nessie and Vic out to the mountains, and they were scatter-buried in the family plot, final rest spot: the Barr/McGuigan Mountain Heart Cemetery. Some of Vic went to the Ocean too where my boy lives.
Selena (Momma Cat) 2009, Miss Piggy (Minoux Cat) 2015, Moe (Big Boy Cat) 2017, Cosmo (Big Boy Cat #2) 2017, Sally (Duchess of Canterbury) 2024, Vic (My Beloved Beloved) 2024, Nessie (DogFaced Girl) 2024
Slapshot and i will join you when our time comes.
But, it IS a new season. A season of being alone, except in my memories. A season of resettling our home (which weirdly is now “my” home—at least i THINK it is, having still not heard back from the GD mortgage people….), of deciding that some of the studio can now move upstairs to a sunny bright big room. A season of adjusting to ONE person (me) and ONE animal (the cat) (Slapshot), rattling around in a 3 floor townhouse.
When i see the world get stupider and stupider, it’s best to go out in my very messy over grown garden and smell the roses. Literally.
This rose (a hybrid rugosa) was pretty last year. This year it’s verging on glorious-ness. You see, this is the one i sprinkled some of my Beloved’s ashes in at the base. They obviously love each other. The blooms are twice the size and frilliness, and the bush itself is twice the size of last year. The scent is sensuously strong and viscerally everything a rose should look like and smell like and be. A repeat bloomer, i’m hoping for roses lasting for a good summer run until the first frost.
albedo too 
Gardening is balm to the soul. It is transient creation. Plus you plan for the future garden and that gives you hope. Then you’ll create your textiles again with that hope. Stay in that garden, enjoy it and plan its future. Your future will become clear with hope. Peace.
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It’s pretty wild out there, foot high weeds growing through cracks, grasses 3 feet high in the beds, wild violets, lilys of the valley, honeyberries and cranesbill going bonkers. I love it but i need to manage it a bit better before the Condo board gets choked 🙂
Thank you!
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Good to see you, Arlee. Look after yourself x
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Thank you, Karen, much appreciated.
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I’m in the beginning stages of something a bit different here. Children should not pass before their mothers. No appetite, little sleep, feeling helpless. I’m spending a lot of time flying back and forth, missing my dog and feeling heartbroken.
kia kaha my faraway friend. Stand strong.
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Oh dear, i hesitate to ask, but you know i’m sending big tender hugs to you.
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yes it makes sense.
And yes, stupider.
And things come in waves, don’t they?
It is good to sense your energy returning.
Always love, jude
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Vic didn’t believe in a god per se, more pantheistic, like me, but his take was always “God MUST love stupid people: he made so many of them.”
It’s a good thing there are a lot of roses on that bush.
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I would’ve liked him…
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Glad to see your blog this morning. Adjustments, big adjustments take a long time to get through. Go easy on yourself. Hugs!
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I think i might have had a wee bit easier time if i’d been able to talk to “Mummy” after Vic’s death, but i think she was talking to him already, before she passed and that helps a little bit.
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Glad to hear from you Arlee because I think of you often. I know you’re going through a tough stage of life and you indeed should take all the time you need to grieve. I really don’t know why people seem to expect that process to be done and over with in short order because it affects each of us differently. Sometimes just getting dressed in the morning (or mid-afternoon for that matter) is about all that can be expected from a day. Hang in there. Sending you {{{Arleee}}}
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It’s something too you have to learn for yourself. Support groups are fine, but nothing is like personal experience with this life event. I can see too why some just give up and follow soon after. Thank you ❤
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Good to hear from you , be gentle with yourself.
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Thank you muchly.
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Bit by bit you will reclaim yourself. The garden is a good place to be. I’m sorry you have had to experience so much loss in a few short months. Love the roses and how they have survived and grown.
Be at peace and don’t sweat the small stuff that falls to the wayside. ❤️
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Thank you, much appreciated.
It’s amazing too how much small stuff there is, and so many small people to go with it—-i’ve really pulled back and am getting proudly sniffily choosey about what’s important.
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