My mountains are a baker’s nightmare. The plush, velvety green of winter has transformed into a landscape more akin to a chocolate chip cookie brownie confection in a pan, slightly burnt. The grass is brown and the trees so dark, almost a blackish brown. Rising and swirling, the chocolate coalescing in big pools. Uneven. Still beautiful, in a disturbing way.
I’ve finished a baby blanket. I just need to tuck in the ends. Ballerina slippers done. A sweater to finish, and the finishing touches on the broken rib scarf. I’m debating on my next hand knit project. So much to do.
So- have you ever gone on a 3 day mad? Recipe: long term stress, short term stress, carefully laid plans, someone on the other end, ignoring those plans, a hang up, followed by a loud scream and heavy furniture flying. Ending up hiding on the toilet, a mess. This is just the beginning. It goes on. Once you’ve passed the initial rage, there’s the quiet, suppressed yowling. Then the sleep. Never enough sleep to heal wounds ripped open again. Wide effing open. Last time this happened, normal relationships were cancelled for five years. It sucks when someone decides to hurt you. And the mad, it’s still here. Roiling. Boiling. It will cool. Turn to a block that holds doors barred. When they come back, in ignorance, they’ll find the way barred and forgiveness lacking. The rage will cool. It will. The mad will settle. Until then, I will be productive.
I hope I never do this to my kids.