Six miles this morning and it wasn't so hard even though it was hot and it was humid. There are several places on my walk which are so beautiful I have to stop almost every day to just take a moment to look. This is one, the way the trees' limbs unfold in knotty embrace to sky. The pictures never do it justice but it is magnificent.
For no reason discernible the anxiety today was very high. I thought the walking would dispel it and it did, for a few minutes, but then it settled back around me like a cloud of dust which had merely blown away long enough for me to rearrange my body again.
But look. Look at this family of cattle.
I had to go to town to get some things and I did but it was hard. I recently heard another thing about breathing properly to restore the heart rate and blood pressure to a normal state and I breathed all the way to town, in and then out, the out very slowly.
Did it help?
Oh. Who knows? I still wanted to cry. And then that makes me want to cry because I feel so weak and so ridiculous. And yet of course, I did not die. I managed to imitate a fairly normal me, I think, Hello, hello, how are you? Fine, how are YOU? Fine. Did you find everything you needed? Oh yes, thank you. Have a good afternoon. You too!
I had torn my list off the pad where I keep it but had somehow not gotten it into my purse and yet still managed to get everything on it except for fresh ginger and I can live without that for awhile. I came home and unloaded everything, put everything away, and made my husband a coconut cream pie because he's been talking about one for awhile and I thought, why not? Food is love even if it shouldn't be and sometimes when I feel that I'm not keeping my end of the love bargain, if I make him something he truly wants, it makes me feel better, at least.
So. Busy, staying busy. Moving as constantly as possibly, doing whatever comes to hand to be done and none of that is ever truly done so it's free and endless therapy.
Maurice is snoozing on the newspaper a few feet from where I'm writing this. Her eye looks almost completely well. Again- golden seal and neosporin. And I was giving her saucers full of milk and nutritional yeast- the hippie's best all 'round tonic. I drank it daily during each of my pregnancies along with raspberry leaf tea and I had four good strong babies and that proves nothing at all but it's what I did.
A reader named Allison Mohr sent me some information she found in a Wikipedia article about Jungle Fowl and it's a very interesting article. I am now thinking that Hawkeye is a rooster of that variety and if what Wikipedia says is true, Jungle Fowl are actually pheasants and not chickens at all although they are all related. The bad news is that the more I read, the more I find that the Red Jungle Fowl roosters are very aggressive fighters when it comes to other roosters and so here we go again. But I sure would like to see Hawkeye grow up to look something like this.
We will just have to wait and see who grows up to be what and who.
And now I am so tired and need to go make supper and then, eventually, I will be able to get in bed, to curl and stretch, to read and rest. To sleep and dream, the best escape of all and yes, that which often can knit up the raveled sleeve of care.