Have I finished up our outfits for the croquet/tea party day coming up this month? No. Have I instead started painting a run down copy of Alice in Wonderland, run out multiple times to separate places for supplies to grow edible mushrooms for us, played a fair amount of Hyrule Warriors to level up Penelope’s characters for them, along with many other numerous projects around the house?
Yeah, probably.
I don’t remember a time in my life I wasn’t in pain. I just assume there was a time. In high school, during a marching band performance, I got smacked directly across my head with a flagpole from one of the colorguard members. Luckily for me it was during an actual performance and not a practice because the silly box hats you wear in marching band protected my skull from getting split open. Unfortunately though, it did not stop the impact from compressing my spine in my neck. The band director, being stereotypically a band director, didn’t care one bit about the injury so nothing got reported. My father had me go to a chiropractor and unfortunately again for me, that just seemed to make matters worse.
20 years later, some more defunct chiropractic work tried over the years, and my body is still affected by that moment in time and only seems to be compounded by various things since or has caused various things to happen since? Who knows at this point. All I know is I haven’t known a day of no pain since. Doctors have never taken my concerns seriously and I’ve tried all the “fixes” society likes to tell you is the answer to your chronic pain. Trying different diets, cutting out certain foods, exercising regularly, supplements, acupuncture, cupping, etc. And while some help minimize the pain intermittently, they never bring a great relief.
It’s tiring (on top of the already exhausting effects of chronic pain) to pretend I’m not in constant pain and while I shouldn’t have to, it’s something I’m still working through being okay with, with moving through a world in a disabled body when the world sees greater value in those who are able-bodied. I’ve silently worked through searing pain after a small hike up a hill, or feeling like my ligaments are tearing apart because I slightly stepped wrong. Choking down panic of feeling alone in a failing body while people move effortlessly around me.
And I wish I could be honest with those around me and not terrified of the judgment they may have or worry they will tell me all the ways I could “fix it.” And it’s fucking bullshit that I have an internalized fear that someday Joey will get tired of the amount of things I cannot do and the far lower amount of day to day energy I have than him. I am working on abandoning that fear.
I want to be valued in a community, whether my body can function at the level society expects it to or not. Some days all I can do is sit in the pain.
Today is one of those days.
Today, Penelope had a stool weaving class that we did together and it was very fun and I made friends with the teacher. I tend to really connect with elderly people. It’s been that way ever since I can remember. There is also an employee at Rite aid that recognized my studio ghibli leggings I was wearing yesterday and started geeking out over their favorites and telling all about all the tattoos they want from those movies. It was really uplifting to have people connect with me over shared interests these last couple days.
Living in a way that I’m not in a constant state of overwhelm after having a severe burn out has been necessary. I’m starting to really notice small details like I used to and finding so much more peace in the everyday. There’s still moments where I wish I could reach out to friends and ask them to do simple things with me, like eating a popsicle or having a cup of coffee together without worrying about the sting of being turned down. I know more connecting with friends will happen slowly and I’m just easing my way back in, feeling out those that seem to make some space for me to just be me.
Since I can remember, I’ve dreamed of my adult yard being a mix between the wildflowers of Miss Honey’s cottage and the junk garden in Harriet the Spy.
I didn’t expect that the first big step into the junk garden part would be because of a dang groundhog that has taken to eating my plants. They are notoriously skittish so we hung a mass of old cds that Joey brought home from cleaning out the basement for the owners of the home we rented when first moved here.
They had a concerning amount of Red Hot Chili Peppers cds.
Even though I really fucked up my hand/arm working on this project, I’m very very proud of it.
Finally got out in the canoe. Collected a bunch of rocks per usual. Said hi to my massive tree friend in the forest. Watched my child wage war on fish that had the audacity to get near them. The fish came back with friends. Realized how much I dislike 99% of power boat people. Slipped and fell hard on my hip/thigh on mossy rocks in the river. Remembering how not graceful I am. Now laying in bed because I’m worn out.
^me drying my pants on the drive home after the slipping and falling into the river incident.
I’m feeling untethered lately. I’m trying to figure out the reason but I also mainly think it’s just the state of the world and the perpetual loneliness that just lives in my core. Wondering what impact I have on the world and if people feel better for knowing me.
I’ve been working on a million different projects all at once around the house and I’m not sure if that helps or hinders the feeling of floating away. My brain just has so much swirling around inside of it and can’t prioritize any of it specifically.
Here’s a few animal photos from this last week that make me happy to look at.
This last one specifically is extra special to me. This is our newest kitty. We got her back in December. The kids found her through pet finder and convinced us (very easily) that she was meant to be our kitty. We drove a couple hours round trip to get her from the animal rescue in Kingston, NY and she is a skittish baby, considering she was feral that was brought in as a trap and release but they felt she could be socialized into a home. And she has done great here but has never sought me out to sit on my lap. The other day she ran over as soon as I sat down and immediately got comfortable. It was a special moment and I’m glad that pulling out my phone for a photo didn’t scare her off.
In 2020, one of the local restaurants offered pints of ice cream to go. I couldn’t resist a pint of their black raspberry honeycomb ice cream and lately I’ve been thinking of it again. So I made a batch of no churn ice cream. I infused the cream with rosemary as well as the black and red raspberry compote I made and topped it all with wads of honeycomb.
And yeah, I’m writing a whole ass blog post about ice cream because when I tasted it after it froze up properly, I nearly cried. It is so damn good. And rosemary is my favorite herb ever.
I mean, look at it. It’s beautiful.
I have a penchant for loving and growing poisonous plants and collecting knives. I just, I love them so much. And an unexpected and thoroughly enjoyable perk of this? Weak cis men being weary of me. One example: Joey’s coworkers have told him they fear for his safety because of this love. 🙃
I guess they forget the fact that he had a knife custom made for me by one of their other coworkers (and often plans where to plant my “poison garden”).
^This was actually my first knife, given to me by Joey, probably 15 or more years ago.
^My newest edition.
^The knife Joey had commissioned for me by Art Comstock for an anniversary and it’s perfection.
^It also coincidentally has a little heart in the blade. 🥰
I never realized making weak cis men uncomfortable was one of my life goals but yeah, 10/10.
I’ve been obsessed with eyes my whole life. I find them mesmerizing and beautiful but also overwhelming and unnerving. You can tell so much about someone from their eyes and sometimes that is too much to handle. I always drew eyes as a kid and to this day, they are still my favorite thing to draw and paint. *thinks about the entire page of just eyeballs in my sketchbook 👀
So, when I saw this eyeball print fabric from Joann fabrics for this year’s Halloween designs, I immediately knew I needed it and was going to make a whole ass outfit out of it. Because why the fuck not?
^this is when I realized I had no elastic for the sleeves but then found these scraps of a fitted sheet left over with the elastic so, waste not want not.
And two days and no process shots of a pair of wrap shorts later, I have a very eyebally outfit that I love.
It was a tad more…booby, boobalicious, boobful, breasticley, breasty than anticipated.
I’m not mad at it.