The Furious Spinner

Seems like the world is in chaos some days, doesn't it?

My petty stuff doesn't amount to a hill of beans.

I'll speak of them anyway.

How have you all been?

I've been doing things, but even when I'm away from here, I'm wondering what's going on with Linda. I feel ungrounded and tired except when I'm with her.

Strange times.

Today I yelled at someone when they asked me when Linda was going to die. I can't tell you how many people have asked me that. (Okay, I could tell you, probably. I could probably even count them, but you get the idea. Many people have asked.) Mario said, "Oh, let me check the schedule." Someone said, "What do the doctors say?" The doctors said she'd be dead in three days and that was ten months ago.

For the record, I have no idea when Linda is going to die. I want her to live as long as she wants to live. She ain't going to do it to anyone else's schedule. It will be inconvenient. Face it. We can't control it; you can't control it. It is a mystery.

I've been exhausted. But I'm sleeping, knock wood. Got poison oak on my thigh. Must have been the dog's nose, I guess. It only kept me up a couple of nights. I'm hoping it's running its course and won't get worse: knock a freaking forest. My trouble with poison oak pales in comparison to so much that is happening, so I will refrain from complaining about it.

Linda isn't eating a lot, but she can almost always eat when I make her something. Not sure why. Today I made her a veggie broth with some pad thai rice noodles. In a little while I'm going back to make her a plum, strawberry, and sherbet smoothie.

She likes when I touch her, too. And she likes that I'm quiet around her. People are so noisy. And they talk so much. (We talk so much; it's not as though I'm not human.) Did you ever notice that, though? People don't like silence. That's a generalization. Many people don't like silence. I feel quiet.

I'm glad my friend Barb asked if she could come along for my trip to Santa Fe, and I'd love her company. On the other hand, I like the idea of just being quiet. Just me, myself, and the Invisibles. But 1,300 miles is a long ways to drive by myself.

Okay. Just wanted to check in.

Later, gators.

All photographs and written material copyright © 2003-2008 by Kim Antieau unless otherwise indicated. May not be used without permission.