Just checking in to let my friends know that, yep, I’m still breathing. (Me and my damn luck. Ha.) Just busy, dealing with crappy weather, tearing everything down and packing; dealing with a sinus and chest thing trying to get a’hold of me. More to do with the disturbed dust and the clammy rain keeping all the pollution here at ground level as well as rotting/mold all the leaves...

Lots been happening, it is like the days have been stretched, 24 hours seems like a week in itself. Good stuff along with the bad, covering the spectrum. (Dinner out with friends; excellent duck cooked the other night. Warming soup made.) Writing down little snippets in scant moments, will post them in a chunk when I get the energy. Like Tuesday’s thought of the day was “Why the hell didn’t we make the transfer into DVDs sooner? These cursed VHS tapes are heavy!”

Spent past two days taking down my ceiling “sculpture” in the living-room. (I showed you a picture in an older post.)

Finished, and Emile comes upstairs and stands in the doorway, just looking in shock.

“Yup,” I say.

Emile breathes, “Holy shit.”

“Yup.”

Emile: “You can feel everything now. The vibes in the attic...”

“Yes,” I say. “It is just a room now.” So many things were up there, sort of a scrapbook of Us in a ways. Shells, driftwood, nutshells, bones and feathers collected during hikes. Dried roses he’d given me for birthday and Valentines. Lavender from my garden. Crystals...toys as well. Rubber bats. Broken holiday ornaments which, if no longer acceptable for the tree, still gathered and reflected light nicely. Even glass figurines; three dimensional mini-wire sculptures I’d made...all sorts of stuff.

We talk, comment upon how much of Us we have put into this place, and how everything removed makes what was once a home nothing more than a soul-less building.

Emile says, “It is no problem. We’ll do this at the next place we live.”

“Yup.”

Funny moment, another time we were taking a break and talking there is a loud CRASH!

He looks at me as we just stand there, “What was that?”

I smile back, “Something falling.”

He shakes his head and laughs, turns to return to the store on the first floor.

“Get used to it!” I yell with a grin at his back.

Tomorrow, Saturday is the grand show set-up at the gallery. I’ll be going in a couple of hours, cane and everything. The last time, right? Received a nice email from Ursel, saying how she understands everything. Everyone is saying “Watch my health.” As if I had control over such. Well meaning though, and I’m glad for it...except for the self-disgust I feel because I can’t do anything about it. Just got to keep plugging along. No problem, it is all I know to do, the survive and keep on going.

This a’cursed weather though. Damp, dreary, drizzly and muggy all at same time. I’ve taken to making a fist and punching the wall now and then, if only because that pain it sharp, moving, living, distracting...as well as at least there’s a gods damn reason for it. This other though, this weighing, full-body encompassing ache is another story. A pressure in the bones, not the joints, but the bones themselves, as if the marrow is swollen...yet it just won’t reach the final stage and crack them...just leaks out, an osmosis that seeps into the tissue like poison right to the skin. Hate it. Still, it’s my lot to deal with...and there are plenty of walls.

Email from Emile’s old friend, the psychic who is sending glimpses to see us along:

“Huge positive forces have your back here, things are going to be amazing...”

Cool.

Stress created dream last night. Trying to avoid Peter at my Gram’s house. I was out on the house-length back deck when he finally caught up with me, his winning questions as he sought things too intimate (re sexual nature) through questions. He always tries to get me to talk about my life with Emile. Puts on this sad, wounded face and goes, “Well if you can’t tell your father...”

Ugh, he disgusts me.

In the dream the deck had stairs going down to the ground and in temper I grabbed him by his collars and pulled him close, snarled into his face, “You know I’m this close to shoving you over, don’t you? You know I can do it, don’t you?”

(Right down those steps behind his heels, the low stone wall of my Gram’s flowerbeds waiting. With luck he will hit the sharp edge with back of his neck.)

Looking right into his eye, I pull his bottom lid down so he can not look away...he tells me, yes, he knows. Not enough though and in anger I yank back with all my might, swing and slam him face first into the wall of the house. Not enough force though, I’m not that big or strong. He isn’t hurt, just sulky and angry as he stands up and turns. Tension and danger level growing...

“My gods,” I say, “I should have killed you when I had the chance...” Meaning for real, not in the dream. Back when I was only a child with a too-big pocketknife. Ah well.

Hmm, I feel better for writing that, letting it out. I hold too many things inside me. Haven’t even told Emile that dream. No point. We are both inundated here, why mention anything which brings negativity?

Ah, tomorrow is going to be some trip alright. Everyone is going to be there, all my gallery friends/aquatances from over the years. They are going to see me, several for the first time in half a year; going to see the changes which I cannot hide.

It’s going to come out, I know it. The Secret, fact that we are moving, closing shop and hauling stakes. I know I’m not going to be able to handle it. Reason I am doing all the stuff around the house and Emile is running the store. I can’t deal with people right now. Too open and exposed. No reserves left, no ability to keep the “happy face” stitched on.

Still, these folks will be fine, will keep The Secret for us...maybe. Doesn’t much matter at this point I guess. Another week or so and the building will be on the market. Going to get some gruff from the realtor whom I do not like. No “for sale” sign on the lawn. Can’t, be like a neon light saying “If you are going to attack you better hurry!”

Sighs...

Intellectually I would say this is a fine experiment though. Here I’ve been talking for months about psychics and “impressions” and soon enough all are going to have the proof whether this has been just a load of crazy crap or not.

Any bets?

Whew, just look at that. Most typing I’ve been able to manage for days. Haven’t touched one of my stories or books in weeks. Oh, it’s all inside my head, no problems there, bunch of new ones as well. Just going to get through this next crazy month-and-a-half and then watch my creative smoke!

For now though, I’ve got to get back to things. Try to figure out how the hell I’m going to pack up these old clay sculptures of mine. Three dimensional and covered with outstretched, delicate coils and I really should take some photos before, only I just don’t got the energy. Better I show them off in their new home anyways. This place is a bloody mess, LOL!

Beyond that, they say there’s going to be a break in the weather. Four days of sunshine. Going to really be hustling then before the next week of rain hits.

Okay, that’s all for now. And don’t worry, KC, Holly and LWM, I’m fine. Always am. Going to have some fun and laughs where I can manage, way my wacky brain works, that’s never too hard.

Cheers and keep smilin’, people. I’ll post more as mood and energy allows,

Melissa