A planned power outage

…the Perseids, and the darkness

There were TWO tiny books written today.

…and I will put them first.

And then I will likely ramble through the big second half of yesterday, as if the whole first half wasn’t enough. (The bigness of Yesterday was why I took a three hour nap…it was supposed to be 45 minutes…from which I was awoken by my 15 year old saying “IT IS 4pm!”)

📚📚📚#234

Swallowed by the Sea

Let us begin with Heather and her offering. I was lucky to have an art morning with her, our friend, and her two boys. There was tea, and ginger snaps, and a feeling of home.

Swallowed by the Sea

Heather Towndrow’s Swallowed by the Sea

I love her book so much. And her company. (Please feel free to send her love in the comments)

Today I was very tired because I did not sleep, and I suspect I was yammering on without making very much sense, because yesterday was perhaps TOO big, and I was grateful for the calm of the company, and the being able to make a tiny book.

Here is mine

Swallowed by the Sea

#235

Oof I’m so tired that I legitimately googled “how many days are there in a year” thinking it was 635!

I thought. I don’t have it in me to write FOUR HUNDRED MORE TINY BOOKS!

…and as you likely know…there are only 365 days in a year. And I knew this too, somewhere in the core of my being. It’s a common sense thing(it isn’t, time doesn’t make a whole lot of sense) . 365 days in a year. But my discalcula had me second guessing myself.

I had swapped the 3 and the 6.

Wow. I’ve been writing daily in this little journal on the internet for…953 days.

It is possible that someday I will stop. This is not my first blog (newsletter, journal, internet-diary)…but I would likely begin again somewhere else. Possibly with another focus.

…but I have been thinking a lot about loneliness lately.

There have been times in my life where I have been so achingly lonely thought I thought I might drown in it. The not feeling loved, seen or understood by another human creature.

I do not feel that right now.

Often, now, I crave this. The quiet of my brain process without the need to make sure it’s okay with anyone else whatever it is I am saying or feeling. But this writing, and the connecting with those of you to whom it makes sense…that helps alleviate the feeling that I’m misunderstood, or deeply alone.

I am absurdly grateful for my partner, with whom I have a decade of history…a decade of love and adventures, and delightful weirdness.

Three night across I dreamed that Godzilla had awoken and was attacking earth, and that my partner woke up and decided…we were over.

It felt so real that I didn’t want to wake up in case it was.

How wild it is that my brain, in the absence of anxiety, in the plentifulness of a wondrous family, good friends, a loving partner, gentle neighbours, magical and fulfilling work…a meaningful community, that my brain could manufacture the end of things. Both the world and my love.

I know nothing is permanent. That life is a series of brilliant ups and downs and sideways.

In the end I’m grateful for this self I am, who reaches out and keeps looking for connection anyway.

Even though the idea of losing the people in my life is always top of mind. Like the very top. A high note that reminds me to keep loving and living because the temporary nature of it all…is constantly proving itself self-evident.

The rain is perscattery (a word I just made up and my autocorrect tried to change thrice) it’s falling strangely on my broken glass gazebo-ish roof outside. Would you like to hear it?

(42 seconds of fresh breeze and a perscattery rain)

I’ve taken deep breaths and I think I can talk about the second half of my yesterday.

The beginning of my yesterday was an oddly magical errand day. You can read about it here, if you like the continuity of linear thinking.

And after I write it, I paid for my windshield (oof), bought a telephoto lens at the place I bought Beth’s guitar just last week…and then I went to pick up my kids from their Dad’s.

The summer is ending and soon I’ll be back to only having my kids from Friday night through Sunday afternoon.

We did some jiggling in our schedule so I can have a good fulfilling end of summer with them before they head back to school and big city life. (Seasons, how quickly they fly right now)

My kids were very hungry. We went to get bubble tea for our drive home. And I made reservations at this new wondrous sushi place on the outside of town, because the owner has tried to accommodate my youngest’s Celiac’s Disease.

We arrived. The two of them hungry. Myself full of Shish Taowq. I’m glad I had eaten because I was about to have to juggle several access needs.

The gluten-free menu had changed to include a very scary (to my youngest) disclaimer that though they try their best…there could be cross-contamination. Which I assume a lawyer told them they had to do.

My youngest is autistic with OCD.

These words made it so he would not eat. Plus there was a distressing smell coming from the table next to us.

My eldest was so hungry and set on sushi that I had to make a decision.

It was nearly 6:30pm.

I have two hungry teenagers. A near 18 year old who wants to eat inside and order hot food. A 15 year old who needs to leave right now, and I decide to ask the owner if I can leave my eldest and send my partner back over.

She tries to understand what I’m talking about. The couple of the distressing smell next to us is altogether too interested in our conversation.

The owner understands and my youngest and I leave. But not before I’ve said “my youngest doesn’t feel good…” I was about to say “about the changes in the menu” but he thinks I’m lying about his health.

It becomes confusing.

We leave. My youngest fixates on the fact that he thought I’d told a restaurant he was not well. His empathy for the other people in the restaurant spilling over.

He imagines how he would feel if someone was sick in a restaurant near him.

It was a long five minute drive home. He’s hungry, and he’s near meltdown.

I arrive and try to explain quickly to my partner and they act quickly, they put on their boots and drive back to the restaurant to eat with my eldest.

I made two plates for my youngest, gratefully, because I mess up the process on the first and accidentally touch the noodles with paper towel.

Thankfully I have a second plate ready.

I do not eat.

I check in m

With my eldest and partner. Everything is okay there.

I am overwhelmed but holding it together.

My partner and eldest get home.

I play some Hollow Knight with my youngest who has resumed a calm brain and body.

But I have to go to the grocery store, because I have to make 12 days of food for my pup, so that next week I can take my youngest on a plane back to his hometown (my hearthome).

I finish making a giant batch of food for my pup.

It is cooling on the counter when I remember.

THE PERSEIDS!

It’s 10:30pm. My partner and my youngest and my eldest and our dog go outside to see if we can see the meteorites.

We are outside when it happens.

Every light in town goes out.

A PLANNED POWER OUTAGE. That we had all forgot.

But the sky. It was beautiful.

The outage was to last until 7am.

My partner set up the battery for the wifi so the kids could watch comfort shows as they tried to calm themselves.

My partner had to work today. I had to be up to put the garbage out, and go to Art with Heather.

…but I really wanted to see the Perseids.

So I texted my friend Beth.

…and she was up for a midnight celestial adventure.

…

It ended up being a magical night.

I watched an episode of Wild Kratts with my 15 year old. His ultimate comfort show. With his stuffy robot, Bobot sitting between us.

Then at midnight Beth and I met at the castle on the hill and went swinging at two different locales. We saw two shooting stars.

I went home and saw some more meteorites with my eldest while he told me about his OC for Jojo’s. (If this sentence doesn’t make sense to you, that’s ok…if it does, feel free to explain it in the comments, I do not have the energies to do it justice).

But I didn’t not sleep because the house was too quiet. Too hot.

I had more plans today.

Art with Heather.

Body Mapping at the center. (A new plan that arrived last night)

And Dock Days.

I managed art.

I canceled the other two.

The body mapping people took it well. And we’re understanding.

The ten year old who helps me facilitate dock days with Beth and Sheridan…it turns out she wasn’t feeling well and needed a day of rest.

So I napped.

And now it’s nearly 5:30pm.

I have dinner to make.

Writing all this out, it makes me feel understood, and helps me gently let the loneliness that lurks that I’m ok. That I don’t need its reminder or company. That I am seen. I am loved.

I see you. I am sending you love.

Heart,

Wake

(The ghost painting that I helped make! I found out last night that it glows in the dark!)