A life in threes

Month: August, 2014

Water, fire, love… and madness.

We survived the first week of school pretty well, so I cannot say that things are going as badly as they were.

As a matter of fact, I’m almost afraid to admit that things might be slowly moving towards ‘going well’ these days.


So, with that said, we went out this weekend.

We went grocery shopping on Saturday morning, and got enough groceries to re-stock the pantry.

We even remembered to get the supplies to square away the pool so that we could actually enjoy our pool more often.

And swim in it we did.

We spent the bulk of  early daytime Saturday skimming, cleaning, and chlorinating the pool…followed by assembling pool floats so that we could spend the rest of the daylight enjoying the heat of the day in the water.

By the time that we were ready to be done with the pool for the day, it was time to settle in to watch the much anticipated new episode of Doctor Who, followed by the pilot episode of that new BBC series, Intruders.

We ordered out for Chinese, so I wouldn’t have to worry about cooking.

But then,  I realized that I had a produce drawer full of the best pie apples, so I ended up baking an apple pie after dinner, while we watched Intruders.


Intruders gave me something weird to think about in the first ten minutes, as there was that (heavily promoted) scene with that mysterious night visitor holding one of those yellow 45 rpm adapters… and as it turns out, that scene eerily played out so very much fucking closer to a very strange childhood memory of mine than I had previously expected…. that I very nearly had a full-on panic attack upon watching that scene.

*shudder*  GAH.

NOW, while I can’t possibly guess at who those mysterious strangers will turn out to be in the series,  there is a part of my psyche that was and still is both intrigued and terrified by the possibilities.

What if they turn out to be….?


But I am telling myself that if they do…I’ll just take it as yet another instance of Sneaky Ton of Bricks, simply on par with an extreme What is My Life Even Moment.

Perhaps, if things get really intense, my experience may reach levels at the Ratio of Several WTFs Per Minute.


Anyway….there was…. that yesterday.


Today, we went to the Farmer’s Market, and I got my opportunity to pick up some locally grown cucumbers, tomatoes, and green peppers.

As well, I picked up 3 lbs of organic honey.

Do you know what time it is?


Why it’s mead-making time, of course ❤



(Though I still need to get some powdered milk if I’m ever going to make that honey candy that I have been meaning to make, as well.)


And then…I was lucky to find a great deal on a new firepit, and I’m no idiot, so I brought home that business.


It’s more like a steel fire-bowl with legs, like this:


But I am going to build a stone encasement around it, making it a more permanent structure in my yard, like this:


Of course, this means that I will likely be recycling the broken clay chiminea:


(lovingly nicknamed ‘Dick’)

that I have been using for all my firepit ritual needs for the last several years.

Unfortunately, ‘Dick’ was gifted to me by my oldest kid five years ago, and as much as ‘Dick’ received a lot of use – when home, I wrote a letter to burn as an offering at least every other week or so — ‘Dick’ has always seemed to be a haven for spiders.

Yes, even despite the heat and you know, flames(!)… these fearless  spiders…still live there, and I am more than content to let them continue to do so.

I mean, these spiders risk being barbecued on a fairly regular basis, so I figure that they must be some pretty bad-ass spiders.

Bad-ass fire spiders.

That is why it is that I think it best to leave the bad-ass fire spiders alone and create a nice fire-pit well away from them, to keep everyone safe and happy.

(And besides, Someone seems to love the idea of a new fire-pit.

 *nudge* *nudge*

How about FIRE NAO?  I would LOVE FIRE NAO.)


Speaking of which, my Much Beloved….


(Lyrics here)

It’s the house telling you to close your eyes.

While I was out walking today, this song – by a relatively new band, Of Monsters and Men – came up on my YouTube recommendations:



Those lovely, haunting female vocals belong to Nanna Bryndís Hilmarsdóttir, and the male vocals are from guitarist/singer, Ragnar  þórhallsson.


And what I discovered is that Of Monsters and Men hail from Iceland…and they have just started touring the US.

They are quickly becoming known for having a penchant for writing story-songs (full of jaunty, complex rhythms) which are sometimes sung in duets between Nanna and Ragnar, as showcased here.


There is a lot in this song that I can relate to…or at least a lot in there that is similar to my own present experience that I found myself relating to this morning.

Especially in the ‘little talks’ that I’ve been having between my insecurities and my fears that have led my brain into many a sleepless night.




Penultimate summer days.


Today being Saturday, and K starting school the day after tomorrow, K and I have been either hanging out or busily running around trying to get all those last minute ‘back to school’ things done before Monday morning.


Wednesday, we played a marathon session of Monopoly– in anold school style, in a game that lasted nearly 5 hours— wherein K kicked my ass, and bought up 3/4 of the properties before I begrudgingly surrendered.  (But, on the plus side: we finally had a chance to use that Collector’s Edition Doctor Who 50th Anniversary Monopoly set that zie got from zir uncle for zir birthday last year.)

Then, for the rest of the day, it was television, movies, and barbecue:

We laughed throughout a  three episode viewing of Gravity Falls, two episodes of Adventure Time…and then, we laughed, commiserated, and eventually cried with John Grogan and his family as we watched Marley and Me.

(Though I’m not ashamed to admit that I cried hard at the end, and that movie made my dog – a Dal-Lab mix – appear to be a piece of cake to deal with compared to Marley…even though our dog did chew up several of my older son’s wallets ..and once, our dog did chew up a set of jumper cables…)


Thursday, we had a last hurrah type  summer cleaning day.

We cleaned the pool,weeded, and I walked the dog.

We re-arranged things around the house a bit more, cleaned and straightened the bedrooms, and inventoried what school supplies we had left over from last year.

We went through zir closet and sorted through which clothes that fit and which didn’t in preparation for how much clothes shopping we would have to do for the new school year.

We talked a lot as we did this, and discussed at length the events of the summer, since we’d spent a good chunk of it not at home together or hanging as much as we would have liked.


On Friday afternoon, we went to Parent’s night, and K and I met K’s teacher, whom I am glad to say we both liked very much.

K is actually looking forward to going to school on Monday…which is fucking miraculous.

We got the supply list, and afterwards, we went and finished picking up everything that K would need for Monday, which was a relief.

(Nothing like waiting until the last minute, I say.)



All in all, it’s been a tough few months.

I was feeling kinda down — even if K wasn’t – and zie did the sweetest thing to cheer me up:

Zie offered to do something for me.

So while at the store buying supplies, zie picked up


a bottle of nail polish for me:



Zie insisted on painting my nails for me

– both my fingers and my toes-

 in this particular nail polish called ‘Candy Sprinkles’

Now I am not usually a person that wears nail polish on my fingernails, but I must say that I find this particularly delightful…

And it does serve the intended purpose of making me smile when I look at my hands







I Guess That’s Why They Call It The Blues

This. So much this.

She writes her thoughts on depression so much more succinctly than I ever could.

Bittersweet, odd, and a little sad.

There are several entries bouncing around within my brain right now.

My head is full of too many thoughts on some wildly divergent topics, and I had been meaning to write about some of them in an effort to empty my head of them.  Or something.



Late yesterday morning, I had an ‘interview’ with the Department of  Children and Families.

As you might imagine, I was dismayed by the fact that anyone from DCF wanted to speak with me, much less so, that they wanted to stop by.

I had to keep reminding myself that the purpose of DCF as a government agency is to assist and to help those in need of their services; their mission statement is ideally one of being of service to the community…and yet much like the FBI or the CIA, I don’t think that anyone really prefers to have to deal with them in any capacity.

But honestly, I couldn’t keep avoiding them either, since they’d been calling, and we had been playing a tense game of phone tag for a little over a week as of yesterday.

So,  I spent yesterday morning feeling more than a little uneasy, and as one does, I was bustling about trying to tidy things up a bit to try to distract myself from my snowballing thoughts of doom.

But the appointed time came, and I was outside dead-heading my roses (how apt that seems — for spiritual reasons — I realize now) when the social worker pulled up.

I don’t know what she had expected of me, but the social worker was pleasant and engaging.   She seemed positively apologetic for asking me so many questions, and for the sheer amount of paperwork that she was requesting that I fill out.

I got through the interview without too much trouble, even though my anxiety level felt pretty high.

(And even more so today.  Yesterday, she informed me that a urinalysis was standard procedure.  She asked if I would mind giving her a test sample since she just happened to have a test in her car    So I did, but today I am concerned that I didn’t ‘pass’  it, much to my dismay, since she was sparse and non-committal in when I phoned her for details surrounding the result this morning.  Um… yeah.  *worries*)


I have to remind myself that this social worker is representing an agency that would be trying to help me rather than judge me.


Though what strikes me the most about yesterday, in retrospect, is how we had talked about mental health issues and how humor can serve as a mask and a coping mechanism for those with clinical depression.   I was telling her about my depression and my various diagnoses since 1997, and we specifically talked about Robin Williams at length.

I consider him as an example of  the manner in which I often find myself trying to cope.   I try to see the humor…or the absurdity in things whenever I can.   I don’t always succeed in doing so, but I do try.

I am often inspired in my darkest moments by how closely related my fears are to my joys, and how I prefer to make jokes rather than cry whenever I focus on coping with my anxiety or my depression.

She responded to this with surprise, and admitted that she never made that sort of connection.  Her reaction was something close to delight, and she expressed that she found my way of thinking rather enlightening, considering what I’d been through.

To that, I had to smile, since I was inwardly amazed with the situation: how had I managed to be so entertaining for over two hours when I felt like such a wreck inside?

Who knows?

But I’d bet Robin Williams would know.


And that’s why it strikes me as so odd and almost spooky to discover several hours later that Robin Williams committed suicide.


There but for the grace of my Gods go I.



Oh.  And here’s another thing.

A strange thing happened while I was having my DCF  interview in the dining room.

About an hour into things, my kid comes rushing into the room, suddenly asking me to hold back our dog, and to please keep him out of the patio for a few minutes.   Meanwhile, the dog is barking and throwing himself excitedly against the sliding doors.

It turns out that a baby bat had flown into the patio… and it seemed to be dying.

But by the time that I corralled the dog, excused myself and got out there to see what was up, the bat seems to have died… because it wasn’t breathing.

Poor thing.

My kid had wanted to bury it in the yard, but I nixed that idea.   (We have three cats, and a dog who all  love to dig, and I feared that it was more than likely if we buried it anywhere on our property, one of them would work tirelessly until it could be gotten to, unfortunately. )



And then, this morning, while I was out walking to find a place off of our property to bring the dead bat…

Suddenly  I saw something out of the corner of my eye come out of the bushes, buzzing loudly.

I thought that it was some sort of insect — perhaps a dragonfly, or really big wasp is what I thought it was at first —


And it flew right up into my face briefly.

Without thinking, I waved it away, which must have disoriented it

Because then it flew downward

and inward

towards me

and hit me in the middle of my chest.



When I looked down on the ground, I realized that it was a  bright little red and green hummingbird  much like this one:




It seemed stunned, and when I bent down to get a better look, it suddenly flew up and away, albeit a bit haphazardly.









This is what I meant to share on my Facebook wall:

From the Elephant Love & Relationships page:

“And I will love some of you with some of me, and then all of you with all of me, if you let me and if I let you, as we get to know. And I hope we each have the honor and pleasure to feel sad, together, and joy, together, and lust, together…and lunch on the lawn at Farmers’ Market, together. I like dumplings with too much hot sauce.”

Join,, get the book when it releases.”


Now I ask you:

Who does this sound like to you?


I dunno…Do you?


It is truly the Subtlesauce that sings!


So here goes….

Now won’t  you sing *that* fscking song with me?

Alll of mee loves all of yooouuu…






To put it bluntly, I have been having a rough time as of late.

I tried posting about it, but for some reason, WordPress kept erroring out, so here goes another post.


We will see what happens.

I sense that there’s another complete overhaul of my life coming.


I woke up this morning with an earworm, that if nothing else, shows me to be a child of the 80’s:


(And just to note, it’s more like ‘at 4:00 AM’ rather than ‘at the midnight hour’ — but other than that, most things about this experience are about the same, relatively speaking.)



Vanir Month, Day 2: Honey Candy

OK, I know that I should finish my Freyr meditation that I’ve been working on, but it is taking much longer than I expected to write it all out.

So, in the meantime, I’d like to share with you a recipe that I found.

It makes a honey taffy candy that is suspiciously, deliciously similar to Bit O’ Honey.

(And no, I dunno how Freyr feels about it – but Bit O’ Honey happens to be my favorite candy of all time.)


1/2 c honey
1/2 c extra-chunky peanut butter
2 c dry powdered milk
1 oz almond paste


 Melt the honey, peanut butter and almond paste together in a saucepan over low heat. Stir with a wooden spoon until the soft-crack stage of 270ºF is reached on a candy thermometer.

Let the mixture cool to 180ºF.


Add 1 cup of dry powdered milk and mix well with a wooden spoon. Add the other cup of dry powdered milk and knead until well combined.


Roll out on wax paper until candy mixture is approximately 1/2 inch thick.

Cut into strips (@ 3/4 inch wide and 2 inches long). Let sit until candy is slightly hardened  and then wrap each piece in wax paper.


Makes approximately 8-10 servings

Prep time: 45 minutes


Goodbye July: Leaving this final thought

So today is August 1st, and July 2014 was quite an intense month for me personally and emotionally, even if I didn’t blog about it as frequently as I’d intended.

It was definitely a Month for Loki, and it definitely involved several major lessons in my life.

And I woke up this morning with this song stuck in my head, only to find that Epix was playing Pink’s concert from February 2013, and this song was one of her encores:


So, with that in mind, I leave July


and begin August with a final thought


that no matter what happens, I must not forget —


Pretty, pretty please, don’t you ever, ever feel
Like you’re less than fucking perfect
Pretty, pretty please, if you ever, ever feel
Like you’re nothing, you’re fucking perfect to me



Point taken, Sir ❤