Still alive

Hacked out more of the things that have been going unsaid to Darkside. Am refining them to a point where it hopefully won't take all morning of rambling to make them said.

...And it's not only things left unsaid on my side, either. There are a few things that he hinted at in one of our last deep conversations that I have a few paragraphs to rant about, which will hopefully kick his ass out of that place that I was years before.

...It is refreshing to know that he's somewhere that I've been before that I can hopefully help with, because he's helped me so very many times with other things, things that he's gone through before and survived.

What a dream I had...

I had three incredibly odd dreams the other night. I'm not even sure what night they were on now.

In the first one, Votania and I became partners in some sort of business venture involving a lot of weird schedule structuring similar to my experience babysitting for the Bun On The Run lady and her kids. We exchanged a formal kiss. It was unusual.

In the second, there was a school and something going on there, and Darkside was there with me. I was doing something. This time, though, I was the leader, and he was the sidekick; he stood there holding my hand and providing backup, but was perfectly contented with that role.

The third dream had That Idiot Shawn making love to me amidst turmoil and betrayal. Going further into the significance of it, I think it signifies putting the dramatics into the past, as it was much reminiscent of the trash historical novels I've been reading. There were science fictional aspects to it as well.

The monkey thought it was all in fun

Aunt-Fayoumis and I picked mulberries today. I am now the proud maker of a quart and a half of mulberry sauce.

First we went out and picked the mulberries. When we came back inside, I started making speculative noises about something alcoholic to be brewed with the mulberries, as I'd done with the cherries and the vodka (it's in the SoBe bottle in the door of the fridge, dear, and it's reminiscent of that plum wine... Adam thought that the stuff was professionally made.) last year.

Uncle Bob has a grudge a mile wide against mulberries, it appears. When I started wondering what all could/should be done with mulberries, he proposed tossing them as far as you could fling them over the fence. They're great for staining cars after they've passed through birds, but that is evidently about it.

I did fling the discard berries and the purple rinse water as far over the fence as I could when I was done cleaning them...

There was a huge rain storm, with thunder and lightning, in the middle of the day. I determined that under the mulberry bush was probably not the best place to be, and came inside... but soon went outside again to collect some rainwater for votania, who always seems to be in need of some genuine rainwater for this, that, and the other. Will three liters, slightly dirty, be enough?

When the rain tapered off, and the thunder subsided, I went back outside again to pick some more mulberries, by myself this time. While picking, I hummed to myself, and thought of Anansi's story from American Gods about Tiger's balls and the monkey, while picturing the letter from the weasel's lawyers (the weasel would have to retain Cahnwe, Cheatham, & Howe... it just wouldn't be right otherwise) to the monkey to cease and desist all chasing or chasing-like activities in the vicinity of the mulberry bush.

...because although we are given to understand that you intended this to be 'all in fun', that was not the impression you gave to our client, who will be bringing this matter up before the court. Also, our client Tiger wishes to inform you that the matter of his balls will not go ignored. While the court has ruled that you are not in fact personally responsible for the balls' disappearance, please expect to be served with an order restricting your public and repeated singing of that song.

Aunt-Fayoumis gave me an allowance (embarrassingly teenage, but I am broke) so I went and got sugar and canning jars (and duct tape for Aunt-Fayoumis' loom packing project) and made sauce after Aunt-Fayoumis and I determined that sauce would be the best way to transport the mulberries home with us.

I sat there stirring away at the sauce. "Fire burn and cauldron bubble," Aunt-Fayoumis said cheerfully on one of her trips past, which made me giggle. My other two are in Arizona, though, and one of them's not a sister.

OK, I've got to ask.

Kim, what bizarre train of logic led to pea soup in the medicine cabinet?

Teeny tiny toad

After the rain, I saw and caught a baby toad. Tiny little thing, obviously very recently a tadpole. Cute as anything. Barely bumpy at all. Looked like a tiny little woodfrog.

Showed it to Aunt-Fayoumis. She was delighted. "Bird food!" she said. Her peacocks would make short work of a cute little morsel like that.

Eat or be eaten.

Eat or be eaten

I figured out that not all of FatherSir's attitude is from GrandfatherSir's side of the family. Grandma's family's just as ornery and explosive.

Great-Uncle Bob likes to try and run over bunnies in his car.

Initially I was appalled. Then, hearing the muttered comment to the effect of "Tomato-eaters!" the true meaning came clear. Eat or be eaten.

Did you know that when it snows... the light that you shine can't be seen?

I've got a far more coherent list of things to discuss with Darkside when I return. Life. Love. I've got a better grasp on my ideals of sex and love, thanks to Adam and that entire mess.

We'll see how this holds up against seeing Darkside again. I haven't seen him in two weeks. I'd been hoping to spend some time with him over the break, but that never did quite happen. Odd. I know the inside of him so well that his face fades out of my memory. I can get certain parts of it -- the silky texture of his hair, the quirk of a smile, the ever-present stubble that eventually matures into a beard, the way his teeth aren't quite perfect, the shape of glasses and glint of silver light emphasizing an expression... but I'm so caught up in the details that I can't always see the whole at once. The line of his neck, his slender waist where tank top disappears into uniform pants...

More than ever, I think I've got a handle on some of the things that make him tick the way he does. I intend to have a long chat with Votania about his father before I have a chat with him sneaking around to the topic of his father. When did I become personal shrink? Never. When did I become concerned friend? Hard to track the exact date when he counted as best friend. It's been a while. I have a suspicion that he's spilled to me more things than he's confided to her. Only natural by now.

...I think this thing is one of the things I actually can help on. It's only a guess, but as such it's got at least a 50% chance of being right. Well, statistically speaking... I'm not sure how this is done. But I've got a 50% chance of being right through sheer dumb luck, and I've got Darkside's own certification that I manage to guess him right about 50% of the time, which is about normal for a close friend of his (regular people get it right much less) ... 75% chance of being right, maybe?

I've been there before, and I know how to get through that particular psychological hangup. He's helped me out enough; it may be time for me to give back to him more than just being-there friendship. Time to muster the words so they come out when they need to be there. Time to list to myself again the things that make him special and beloved to me.

Honor.
Caring for a friend above and beyond his personal comfort.
Humor.
Sweetness. You show that you care, my dear, when I'm not in a position to fight back.
Intelligence.
Practicality.