Monday, July 21, 2014

I Love You More

I keep wondering if I've taken my medication. Yes, I know I did, I remember slugging it down with a sip of cold coffee. I remember opening the cabinet door where it lives, unscrewing the bottle, wondering if I took it yesterday, remembering the taste of cold coffee, bitter, plus there are the hives which I get when I take it, the dreams too...
I scratch what itches.
My mind aches. Not my head. My mind.

The boys were here and it was good although since Saturday night, Gibson has been limping on that leg again and I suppose he must go to the doctor tomorrow although he can bear weight on it but he doesn't want to. "Help me," he says, holding out his arms. It seems to me that the ankle and foot on that leg are slightly swollen. Did he fall and twist his ankle? No way to know except to go to the doctor. How many X-rays before that's a worry too?
I do not know.
I do not know shit but I hate it that he has to go back to the doctor.
I love you once, I love you twice, I love you more than beans and rice, is something we've always said around here.

And we love our beans and rice. 

Kathleen came over to return the dish the cobbler was baked in. It was filled with dinosaurs and toy cars and trucks. The boys were thrilled. Owen wanted to tell Kathleen about each dinosaur and then about going to see his grandparents and about her brother and where he lives and I could tell that Kathleen needed to go home. She was gracious though, asking, "What?" each time he said, "And then you know what happened?" Etc.
When she left, he said, "That was so nice of Kath-a-leen to bring us these dinosaurs. I love Kath-a-leen." That's how he says her name and it makes me smile to hear it.

The boys have gone home and here we are. Beans simmering with the rice.

Went out to pick basil for the salad and found this:

Can you see him? So tiny, that little green grasshopper. I let it be and plucked from the other two plants. Small does not equal insignificant although we often mistake the one for the other. 

I am going to make the salad and the cornbread. I am going to finish laundry. I am going to bed early. I have taken my medication, I can take a Benadryl before I go to bed. Hopefully, I will sleep deeply and well and not dream of chaos and fright and will wake up in a different frame of mind and take a walk and feel strong again. 

That's my plan. 


  1. Sweet dreams dear Mary. Tomorrow will be brand new.

  2. I hope that you get good sleep tonight. I am hoping for the same thing. It has been a long day here.

  3. Your basil is beautiful. And the cricket. I'm so sorry to hear about Gibson's foot, crapola :(

    You remind me of Maurice Sendak's Chicken Soup with Rice. Sipping once, sipping twice...

    This morning, I woke up to the alarm at 6.30, snoozed, then woke up in a panic at 7.55. Then, glory be, realised it was 6.55, such joy! Then fell into a deep and weird dream about having to mediate between a brother and sister, one of whom had locked the other in an ice cream truck, woke up again and it WAS 7.55. Work starts at 8.30. Bugger.

  4. That's annoying about Gibson's foot. I read your later post earlier (that's me, do everything the wrong way round) so I know you took him to the doctor.Hopefully when I get to read tomorrow's post I will find the doctor has managed to find a way to manage without a new cast.

  5. Angella- It certainly was. It generally is, isn't it?

    Syd- I slept like fourteen dead rocks.

    Elizabeth- And it was!

    Jo- Morning panic. The worst. Did you make it in on time?

    Jenny Woolf- Nope. Cast back on. We are sad but glad that he will get better.


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