Today I have worked very hard at the knot in my psyche. Mainly by wrestling physically with things.
I spent an hour this morning ruthlessly digging out a triffid like pink japanese anemone that is taking up a HUGE proportion of my tiny garden. It was the only flowering thing here when we moved in and I’ve dilly dallied about digging it up. All the gardeny people in my life (mothers, aunts, g’mas) have sucked their teeth when they’ve seen it, ” it’s really very invasive…” but I’ve always reprieved it, tender heartedly. Well I need more room for my beans and stuff, and it’s a nice sunny spot.
Cor blimy it’s roots are impressive…I’ve bent my spade. The majority of it’s gone and I’ll finish it tomorrow. I judged it best to retire gracefully as I was turning the air blue and the nice Ukrainian congregation from the church next door were trying to do something spiritual and mysterious with boughs in their green space.
I made bread instead and, for once, kneaded the dough for the proper length of time, usually I’m too lazy. I also cleared out another mouldy cupboard, ripped up a lot of corrugated cardboard for the compost bin and mended the pushchair. Woo – dervish.
In the afternoon Zeph and I painted our outside table with the lilies we’d done for wrapping paper a few weeks ago. I think it looks great – we add some ladybirds for Ida;
The clematis in the tree is smothered in flowers, all tilted up to the sun;
In the afternoon I sit in the sun, puzzling over a sewing pattern I’ve acquired. The kids are very busy playing a mysterious game in the garden. Zeph appears to be striding around attacking things with a sword (bamboo stick) and then casting lots of spells…Ida follows him everywhere with his Bey-Blades on a cushion. On questioning Z reveals he is a demi god who has escaped from a video game and is moving around the world fixing stuff to his liking. “Whats Ida doing?” “Oh – she’s my acolyte”
What the hell has he been reading? This also lends weight to my theory about D&D being a genetic aberration/ phenomenom (depending on which side of the dice you stand.) Smugly I bet he doesn’t even know what an acolyte is.. “it’s an apprentice.” Oh.
The game goes on for a good hour. I wonder how long Ida will be prepared to be an adoring imaginary game puppet. It’s about now that Alice uttered her first, firm and definitive, “no.”
I lug my heavy (not stone) heart about and focus hard on abundent BT’s. I’m tired from a late night curled up in bed talking softly to and fro with Steve. His kind rational words, and those of others, are like arnica on my bruises. I breathe, then breathe again.