Every night, before I head for bed, I stand in front of my witchy altar and say goodnight to the people I've lost that are important to me. Last night I said goodnight to Ginger. So, so hard.
A few years ago, she sent me the Edward Gorey toy Dracula theatre book. The original, spiral-bound one, just like the one I nearly kept from the library when I was a tiny spooky child. I promptly emailed her and said it was lovely, but it was a collectible worth something, and was she sure? She said she wanted it to live with someone who would love it, and she knew that was me.
I cried myself stupid last night and had to muscle through my work this morning before I could come in here. My stomach hurts, and I don't have anything beautiful to say (so I'm glad you do - she deserves every word).
Because I feel ugly, and the world feels ugly and I just can't.
Does anyone have an update on Amyth? Isn't she getting her gallbladder out about now? Calli will you be in touch with her and us for updates??
Oh my goodness, I forgot! Be well, amyth.
I'm sorry Plei, that's a big load to carry
I can't take work off today, too much end-of-semester work to do and it just needs to be done. But I've noticed that my initial reaction to loss has been numbness lately, tears NSM.
May her gallbladder be less grief than Hubby's, which, when it was sent to the lab, caused them to call his doctor to tell him to stop wasting their time with jokes and not to send them two-week-dead organs. They were surprised to hear it had just come out of a living person.
That was a year or so before we married. He was unable to eat pork afterwards. Bodies are weird.
Oh I'm sorry, Pleiades, that is a lot.
{{P.M.}}
I really want to say that Trump has finally jumped the shark, but unfortunately I don't think that's the case.
Who wants to suggest things for my Amazon wishlist?
