scrubjayspeaks

The creature, spindly in some places and squat in others, small all over, had done a credible job of recreating the tools from first principles. Notched sticks served as crochet hooks, and sharpened bone made darning needles large enough for the rough cordage twisted from dandelion stems. Still, self-sufficiency cannot entirely defeat the allure of a good yarn shop, and the fiber arts have brought together stranger pairs than the creature and the human running the shop that morning.

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LL#1443

Well, my duck did not survive, despite a vet visit and intensive care at home. Fuck. Our regular vet is pissed that none of the on-call vets would treat her Sunday, because that likely would have saved her. It is not, in his words, rocket science. At least now we know how to go about it ourselves if need be in the future.

Mum’s follow-up with the surgeon went well. Her ribs are visibly healing. Her lung is improving, although there’s still some fluid to work out. She’s able to do more, so now we’ve entered into the “overdo it and pay the price later” phase of her recovery. *sigh*

We’re at a point where, if I haul ass, I can get the animals taken care of in the morning and make it to work more or less on time. I hated coming in late, even if it’s expected.

Mornings will be a little easier going forward also because I will no longer have to flip one of the tractor tire hay feeders back upright and drag it halfway across the corral every morning. (And every afternoon, for that matter.) The horse, horrible bastard that he is, also ripped two of the 4x4 boards off the base. So I have a skinned knuckle from hammering myself while reattaching those. The old hardware has been pulled and replaced so that it can once again be chained to the fence to prevent this behavior.

I also went around the corrals with bottles of spray foam, sealing up holes in the pipe of the fence and shelters. There are wasps starting to nest in there, and I am Not Having It.

All this has set off another lupus flare. This is the worst I’ve been since my first year on medication. Swollen, white joints, muscle twitches when lying down, and the all-consuming need to just go the fuck to sleep at any given moment.

Lewisia: 5 new pieces written, still need one extra to catch up

Day job: 32.25 hours--one day off for mum’s appointments, and a short day for vet visits

Cleaning: reassembled and anchored tire feeder, plugged wasp pipes

Reading: Platform Decay by Martha Wells (been waiting until the audiobook was available with credits on Libro.fm, this one was so charming)

Watching: rewatched Paprika (my beloved)

Listening: Heartsongs by Dolly Parton (*ugly sobbing*)

Clock Mouse: still taking a break

With its tall weeds, half-obliterated paths, and tumbled-down climbing frames, the feral park was a child's dream and an anxious parent's nightmare. It was kept that way deliberately--or more accurately, it was unkept that way, in a willful act of benign neglect--to provide children with a necessary access point to danger, mystery, and secrecy. It was watched, to satisfy certain minimum standards of child mortality, by the sorts of creatures whom children would find agreeable to encounter, even if they were technically spies as well.

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LL#1440

Yeah, you know what? Fuck everything.

The work week was somehow Oops! All Mondays! flavor. A relentless parade of broken equipment and horrible screw-ups.

I spent the bulk of Saturday doing grocery shopping and other such chores for which there is no time in the week currently. I also donated blood, because I was eligible again and there’s a critical shortage.

And now this morning, one of the ducks has a prolapsed vent, a major medical emergency. None of the emergency vet clinics has anyone on staff today who can handle birds. So we’ve got to try to keep her alive long enough to see someone tomorrow.

I am really reaching my limit on coping with life.

Lewisia: no new pieces written

Day job: 40.5 hours--I managed to scrape together an almost normal amount of time, and it only cost me my sanity and my sleep

Watching: X-Files season 2 episode 21, rewatched Atlantis: The Lost Empire for the first time in many years (RIP my VHS copy of long ago)

Listening: no new album this week--I just don’t have the processing power to enjoy anything new; I did recently finish listening to Mike Duncan’s Revolutions podcast season on the Martian Revolution of 2247, which was marvelous

Clock Mouse: still taking a break

One might have missed the bird entirely, mistaking it for just another twist of cracked, sun-bleached deadwood on the half-fallen tree. Or one might have assumed it was an adaptation to its preferred haunts, growing plumage in the same palette and pattern as the outlook over a field of mousey morsels. Rarely, one might know on sight a reforester hawk, also known as a deadwood phoenix, whose nesting habits began with assembling a skeletal tree, which would hatch into new growth along with the bird's eggs.

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LL#1437

So, look: it’s possible that I’m cursed. With what, exactly, remains unclear.

On Tuesday, mum fell in the bed of her truck while unloading hay bales. (We don’t have time to get into the why of *that*.) And after two trips to the Urgent Care, one to the ER, and an overnight hospital stay, she’s back home with her five (5) broken ribs. *pinches bridge of nose*

I haven’t been back to work yet, but I get to try to make that work tomorrow. It’s not so much that mum needs me present constantly. She’s mobile on her own, so long as she doesn’t drop anything on the ground. But she’s not allowed to do anything. Like, oh, say, feed five horses and two ducks. Or water dozens of fruit trees and three separate vegetable gardens. So I’m having to try to do that. On top of my own usual responsibilities.

Adding my day job to the mix might actually kill me, so watch this space. But don’t bother to watch too closely, because I am likely to be thin on the (internet) ground for the next month or three.

Lewisia: 3 new pieces written

Day job: 17 hours

Gardening: succulent club meeting, harvesting

Reading: Witch Hat Atelier, Volume 3 by Kamome Shirahama (*narrows eyes* I think there’s some bullshit afoot...)

Watching: X-Files season 2 episode 20

Listening: Hunky Dory by David Bowie (I recently listened to the Hit Parade podcast “Starman to Black Star” episode on Bowie and had a mighty need for more; I will point out that the opening noise garbage on “Andy Warhol” sounds too much like medical device alerts and sets my teeth on edge right now)

Clock Mouse: still taking a break

It was surprisingly easy to keep the entity alive, once he realized that there was more to novelty than just whatever new trinket money could buy. It hungered for newness, and so he fed it sentences never before spoken, grammatically sound and nutritionally complete nonsense. He kept records of every sentence meal he gave his otherworldly companion, which years later would be gloriously misunderstood by the poetry world and published to great acclaim.

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LL#1434

Well, I bought some fancy clothing, which isn’t all that fancy and definitely isn’t vintage. I just couldn’t justify the price tag, especially when factoring in shipping and tariffs to get something from the UK. I think I’ll pick up the flashy set of suspenders I liked, though, because that was a stateside company. I’ll have to sew buttons on myself, because these trousers only have belt loops, but that’s not that difficult.

The heat has been getting to me in the form of the sort of headaches that threaten to become migraines. I seldom get migraines, but when I do, it’s during summer heat almost exclusively. It’s supposed to cool off this next week, so, uh, here’s hoping?

Lewisia: 6 new pieces written, caught up again, August posts queued up

Day job: 43 hours

Gardening: garden club post

Watching: The Cabin in the Woods (oh! oh, it’s funny! I see! *cackles*)

Listening: Days by The Mountain Goats (new album! this feels more like the sound of Bleed Out!, which itself sounds more like Beat the Champ, which is my personal TMG album)

Playing: whoops, Humble Bundle had a bundle of desktop/taskbar idle games, a thing I most certainly did not need, but I am now helping robots tend a garden in Rusty’s Retirement

Clock Mouse: still taking a break

The VPN service came highly recommended, but the location list still gave him pause, populated with city names he did not recognize and no countries whatsoever. But he selected one and went on with his browsing, thinking no more about it until the ads started to change. In the midst of his podcasts and streaming videos, he now heard about at-home cauldron conditioning services and restaurants catering to those on a strictly dream-based diet, all piped in from somewhere that started to sound rather appealing.

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LL#1432

Lewisia will be observing Mapless Mondays for August, a program brought to you by unknown forces and the survey corps. During this time, street names will be unknowable, building numbers will become invisible, and GPS will tonelessly inform you there is an unspecified road condition ahead. The library has set up informative displays on other methods of wayfinding, and local shops and restaurants are prepared for the increase in foot traffic from those hopelessly turned around in normally familiar spaces.

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LL#1430