anatomical beat

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Anyone care for a smoke/red flag warning/unbearable heat update? I didn't think so. It's dull as tits now and yet, it IS the new normal. Smoke is VERY bad today. Windy and hot and they will begin powering people down this morning. Not us, but that's not really a relief because the power company has proven their ineptitude over and over and over. They are burning NorCal down and killing people and no one is outraged enough.

I read an interesting piece about how some of the issue are the very things we've done to stave off other issues. For example, all the new emission guidelines and mechanical things that go along with lowering exhaust fumes may be creating a chemical layer hugging the ground that is causing hotter fires that have a sparking effect and it's those sparks that get blown into areas where they ignite more fires. Thalidomide much?

The Viking desperately wanted to be able to maintain his annual man-camping adventure, that started yesterday, but I wouldn't want to be out there in the wilds with the smoke. If the wind picks up today, they will hoof it back home. I will never forget the man-camping trip when a fire started out in the wilderness in the general area of where they were. Our fifteen year old was with them and I was not happy with the news. We had no way of communicating. As I'm a FB loather, I had to resort to emails to a group that ran trail maintennace out there and I got the funniest transcribed cb message back from one of the trail crew saying they had "run into a youngster driving a massive rockwelled rig like a pro" and the group he was with were camping in an area far from the fire and were a-ok. That youngster was mine and that rig was ours. LOL. Here's the guys with the rig snow-wheeling a few winters later. 


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anatomical beat

my heart is a boat in tow

Smoke is still bad. Not hanging in the trees, raining ash bad, but a strange sort of apocalyptic thin high sky cover that makes the day seem like a mid-November, storm brewing day. Until you go outside and it's hot and humid and horrid on the lungs. It's thoroughly depressing and I honestly don't see how I can live like this every summer/fall for the remainder of my days. The Viking will never leave his domicile. I get it. It's his castle, he's worked hard on the house and the property. It's become a compound. And his haven.

I know I was like errrgh about Bosch, but it did rivet us for its seven seasons and now I'm like waaaah without it. Got any good gritty detective show recs, folx? 

Reading the horror master that is Brian Evenson. He just released another collection in his cover collection works. It's brilliant and disturbing and about insomnia and dreams and wow. I'm also being tempted by King's latest - Billy Summer, but hate spending the ducats when I know I'll see it in the thrift stores sooner than later.

Things are going to start getting busy because of the wedding and I'm studiously ignoring the warning bells that are ringing Covid Covid Covid. We just can't postpone it again. But we've got a pre-planning meeting in Monterey in September, both bachelor/bachelorette parties in Vegas this month, two showers, one in Septebmer one in October, and then D's sister's wedding in October and THEN the wedding in November! 

I am always sad that others don't love Oldham as much as I do. I find him screamingly funny. 

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anatomical beat

(no subject)

All my local family are in New England this week. My sister wants to buy a vacation home in Vermont and they took my mother along so she could visit the relatives. And graves of loved ones. That's a thing when you get older. Sigh.

And my Virgina-based sister drove BY HERSELF 14 hours upcountry to spend the week with them. It was a surprise. I'm happy they are all together, but of course they've gone radio-silent and I have not heard a word since last Friday. LOL. 

I'm trying to take advantage of this rare reprieve and get some things done around here. If I'm going to get a quote on HVAC systems, I have got to sort the attic. I'm also still going through these clothes and making various piles to give away. I found two families with teenaged girls that are very happy to take this stuff off my hands! A win/win. Still wrestling with the shoes, though.

The weather has finally, finally become "normal". It's hot, but not unbearable. The mornings and evenings are cool again. The world is turning and the days are growing shorter. Strange how the body feels this before the mind recognizes it.

Worked a bit with the skull yesterday -


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anatomical beat

(no subject)

How are people getting rid of their decent shit? Not the Goodwill box shit, but the stuff that was $$$ and is in great shape, or the stuff that still has tags because you were too lazy to return it? I'm not on FB, so I can't use Marketplace. eBay is so hit or miss and Poshmark is not worth the effort required because very few folks there want to pay what you're asking. 

I need this stuff to go away and I just can't bring myself to give it to Goodwill. AARGH! 

The shoes are the main issue for me. I buy expensive shoes. But....over the past ten years, my shoe size has changed an entire size. I don't know why ageing does this, but it does. So, I've got 8s, and 8.5's, that are gorgeous shoes, but they don't fit me. And I'm trying to replace my fave fave faves with the right size, so I've got Frye and Fluevog that I can't let go of until I find them in a 9, but I can't wear them anymore and that's WAAAAAH!!! 

I also have Ball-Jointed Dolls and their accouterments that HAVE TO GO. 

Sigh. Trying to get my bedroom office back into an approximation of a studio and boxes are titling this way and that. 

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anatomical beat

minotaur or meditation

 Last week of July. I have never had a liking for August. It's hot. I don't like hot. It also signals the end of something in a way that December doesn't. I don't like endings. All the study on ancient calendars and where is the research into the lives/minds built around summer calendaring? Is it cultural? The modern calendar of the past century is Judeo-Christian with Northern Hemisphere paganism at its root and an arc right in the middle, that bends from end to end, formed by primary education's Summer Time. 

August is actually looking very open for us. Kids are busy. My mother is busy. But D and I have nothing pencilled in. Come September, things are going to get crazy because of The Wedding. Then the holidays and boyhowdy it will be another year gone.

We attempted a party here Saturday. You remember those? Drinking, hijinks, music, dancing, food, conversing? Apparently our attendees needed a refresher on the definition. I think we've all forgotten how to socialize. First off, half the folks just didn't show up. Like simply didn't appear. No text, no call. But initially expressing excitement at the thought of getting outside of their houses. That's odd. So we had double the amount of food. And those who did come, brought, like, their own accouterments. Shot glasses, pipes, water bottles, coolers on wheels. Never saw that before but I can get behind it. It took a long while for people to relax. And, this is the weirdest bit, I kid you not when I tell you that no one used the facilities. FOR FIVE HOURS. I'm still turning it all over in my mind, trying to sort it. The thing that frightens me the most is how quickly human beings adapt to what they are told to adapt to. We are scared, the fear is really not going away. We can't say exactly what frightens us, but we have a rudimentary idea of what we should and shouldn't do based on magical thinking and a thimble-full of facts. I'm not sure this is a good evolutionary step. Although, I'm not seeing this type of thing when the young person who lives here hosts a get-together. 

I'm back on my desire to build a meditative walking labyrinth on the property. It's feeling a bit like a compulsion, so I'm trying to pay serious attention to it. 

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anatomical beat

Sunshine 2021 Prompt Six - Amphitrite

Once. He had been her greatest love. A long time ago. Almost beyond memory. But goddesses rarely forget their great loves unless the Moirai intervene, and then those meddlings become ballads and poems and mosaics painstakingly pieced together on the floors of bathhouses. No, she hadn’t forgotten the passion they shared.

King and Queen of the seas. They roiled the waves with their bodies, they formed the shores, and fomented the deep ocean volcanoes into eruption. They rose and fell together, as one, and became the heartbeat of the earth.

But that was before. When the world was new. When her children leapt and swam around her. When he commanded the tides. How could they have possibly known that their love would end?

When the great pods and rookeries began to be hunted and slaughtered and the brilliant colors of the oceans dimmed, polluted and choked with poisons and plastics, she demanded he act.

Wipe them off the earth, she told him.

Lay waste and decimate, she snarled.

Instead, he allowed himself to be diminished, crushed and crippled. A sacrifice she could not fathom.

She could hardly stand to look upon him. She escaped to the far reaches of the globe, gathering the whales and dolphins, the seals and walruses to her breast, and weeping such tears of grief that the glaciers cracked and calved and shook the water.

She sent the sharks to warmer waters, vibrating their otoliths with destroy, maim, frighten.

She wept for the schools and howled for the hatchlings.

Then came the day she realized he was gone. Simply gone. She searched far and wide, high and low, but his rule had ended. She the widowed queen.

The King is Dead; Long live the Queen.

For lifetimes, she mourned. Then. She woke on the ocean floor, curled inside the deepest trench. The frigid water had surrounded, rocked her like a lover’s embrace.

Now she was done with that.

She filled her mind, her heart, her formidable body with rage. She swallowed great gulps of the toxic, seething gasses she found close to the core of her world. She would boil the briney vast with outrage and righteousness. She would dry the oceans, turn it all to ash. And then she would sink to her knees amongst the burnt bones and shells, cradling her body. Her womb filled with the Weddell Sea.

She would gestate. 

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