Midnight in the garden of evil only now.

Morning comes in Paradise, morning comes in light.
Still I must obey, still I must invite.
If there's anything to say, if there's anything to do,
If there's any other way, I'll do anything for you.

I was dressed embarrassment.
I was dressed in wine.
If you had a part of me, will you take your time?
Even if I come back, even if I die
Is there some idea to replace my life?

She extended her wings, full into the dark early morning. The snow fell gently on the stones at her feet, flakes landing in her hair, on her hands, clasped together with the remnants of wildflowers, placed there by the oldest child, a girl. Her right wing ached, chipped when the woman-girl with the wet eyes tried to move her to a new place and she was returned by the tallest man with the kind eyes.

Time to go.

She darted into the night, leaving the gate open behind her. When the man came out he admonished the tiny woman for leaving the gate open. The angel didn't stay long enough to hear the words, she caught the tone and was gone. The downside of explaining her absence would be to pin it on theft and gently place blame rather than to stand and explain miracles in the light.

This is what I choose to believe, because last night someone opened the biggest gate of the four that lead into my backyard and took the angel statue who lived there. Defying three security lights and two neighbors who are in and out at all hours of the day and night.

They just took her. She wasn't theirs. She was MINE.

I won't get her back. That's my out, my final farewell in a city that barely welcomed me and even though I love this house I never really felt safe here and hardly ever ventured out alone as a result.

I think someone was actually in my backyard when I brought the dog home from our early morning walk, because when I left the gate was closed and when I returned it was closed. When Ben went out it was open. I didn't use that gate for my walk anyway, so it's not like maybe I goofed and left it open. More likely someone had cased the yard and made off with the angel because everything is nailed down. The barbecue is locked down. The old stone garage is locked up tight. Good luck getting anything but I really thought no one would have the gall to steal a statue of an angel. How do they know it isn't very important or part of a memorial?

I hope they burn in their shoes, frankly, and when we make it to the pacific I will get a new statue and cement it to the ground this time.

Sometimes I really can't wait to leave.

In other news, box one of the Christmas clementines was a smashing success. It lasted four days and they were all good. Ben's birthday party was a smashing success also. There is leftover cake. The cake theme was monster trucks and Ben ate a hot wheels. Yes he did. Of course he will probably be sorry. That's okay, I say nothing.

No, wait, I actually said Are you going to eat the rest of your cake? Because if you don't want it, I do!

Damn thief.

B is for Birthday.

Ben is forty-one today and the fun is just starting. Everyone is coming to dinner tonight and we had so many offers of breakfast and lunch it just seemed easier to bring extra chairs to the barn door table and cook up three packages of bacon and two of eggs. I really should get a bigger stove.

And I got the first gift, when his hand slid over my mouth before six this morning. So I wouldn't wake the whole household with joyful noises he was creating by touching different places. They slept on and we played until the sun came up and then very reluctantly tore ourselves away from our bed. Everything holds more meaning now again. He'll be spending the majority of the days of January, February and possibly March away from me.

Away.

Again.

Aren't you excited? You have all that to look forward to. A midwinter rollercoaster. Bring the de-icing machine and your best sense of adventure. This is going to be very tough. I will be packing. He'll be working in New York, mostly, I think. Again nothing is carved in stone and I swear I only cried once because we figure we'll get through it (he will, I will fall apart) and soon everything will come out okay on the other side (last time took years).

I really don't think I can do this and so I hope it's all just a bad dream. Only it isn't and I'm very immature and that's okay for today. I will just quietly fall apart late at night when everyone else blindly sleeps, secure in the fact that their lives are easier while mine is not.

I'm trying to find the silver lining. First I need to polish off all this tarnish. It's going to take forever, this is years of buildup and I'm not very skilled with optimism. I'll admit it. I will try and really that's all I can manage for today. Still not crying so maybe something will go less difficultly for ONCE IN MY LIFE.

Here's hoping. Here's to grace. Here's to Bridget with a smile on her face.

Anyway, yesterday saw one single egg lobbed very gently at my back by Daniel but it's okay, when he was otherwise engaged I went out and filled his boots with snow and brought them in to melt on the grate in the back porch. I am still waiting to see if he's maybe removed all of the tires from my car or replaced the Count Chocula cereal with dog food.

So at twelve we'll drive downtown and meet August, Sam, Dalton, Corey and Caleb for lunch and then some shopping at the music store and some of the record stores too and then dinner here (I can't say much more about that part because he reads this) and then maybe some late night fireworks or a long walk in the snow. Or maybe we'll just clear everyone out of here early and get the kids off to dreamland and we can finish what we started this morning.

Oh, look. Here's hope once again.

Nice to see it still thrives here.

Food fight, twelve sharp.

Daniel and I are home today. Alternating kangaroo care and wrapping presents and cooking. It's snowing. It's actually snowing pretty hard but that's okay because we have lots of things to keep us busy. We're getting ready for tomorrow.

Tomorrow is a very important day. Ben's birthday. Which means.....

Yes.....

You got it right....

CAKE.

Cringeworthy.

Caleb had a huge vase of cattails on the island this morning when I arrived at the loft. I asked him if that represented the remains of his weekend. He gifted me with his unabashed laughter. Pure joy, a rare display from someone who checks every last nuance obsessively. He told me Sophie had been in town for the weekend and a weird stabbing pain shot right through my body like a bolt of agony and disappeared into the floor.

I would have said something incredibly unladylike but I couldn't. It's Sophie. I don't have anything over her. She can run circles around me with...well, everything. The one person who still can make me feel like an incredibly unpulled-together chaotic mess and short and ungraceful to boot.

That and I'm weirdly jealous that she was with him for the weekend.

Oh my God, I am insane.

I'm not all that sure which part I'm jealous of. Maybe just that they had a fun weekend where I was at the farm feeling disconnected and shut out while the boys bonded and did man things and I was sort of an afterthought until late into the evenings and I am so short on affection and time and support right now it was almost an attempt to thumb my nose at Benjamin, coming here, only Benjamin wouldn't notice because he is busy being taken care of so he can be whole and manage without so much handholding.

I'm not sure it ever matters what I do because their eyes are blind and then other times I feel like every move is going to be the wrong one or a lesser one or a total incendiary action that will blow up my world again.

So I go to see Cale and feel even smaller and even less significant but vaguely evil and it's enough to keep a spark lit so that I feel like I have something to offer or withhold from SOMEONE only he isn't really doing it for me so I come home early and Benjamin is playing Sufjan covers and hardly looks up which means he is processing things and this is a good sign. So I go and track down PJ and PJ is all about food and what food should I make and I hesitate one second too long and so we wind up going out for Thai takeout and Ben doesn't say much and the kids are lost in their own worlds and PJ starts to zone out on me and I slip. Just a little. Knuckle to wristbone. Enough so that I get another jolt, only this time it's less jealousy and more plain old vanilla fear.

Stop it, Bridget.

Hmm?

You're worrying yourself to death.

Right, Lochlan. Think it will work this time?

Not funny.

No one cares.

I care.

I don't care that you care.

Stop being difficult.

Stop being an opportunist.

Okay.

Just like that?

Sure. If that's what you want.

I never ever get what I want.

You got all of us.

Okay, then I get everything I want.

Except?

Ben.

Bridget, I had this conversation with Ben word for word three years ago. This is hilarious.

What's so funny about it?

That you two are married and you're acting like he's dead.

We're all dead.

It's going to be one of those nights, isn't it?

Yes, Lochlan, it is.

What can I do?

Put a heated floor in Narnia for me.

What?

Nevermind.

Bridget?

Yes?

Time for some sleep.

Is it ever. Good night.

Pale Shelter.

I have this now on my Blackberries, which makes me very happy. It's lovely to be able to keep track of the games without having to plunk down in front of a television on Saturday night at six o'clock.

Speaking of television, the program we have settled on this winter is Ice Pilots NWT. It's very good. Much along the same lines as Ice Road Truckers. I loves me some Northwest Territories. I bet I'd do well there save for the 30 Days of Night-caliber vampires that might appear. But then again I do well anywhere, I bloom where I'm planted. Or maybe it's that I rot where I am tossed. Oh, the vampires will love me now. The sweet, sweet smell of decay and desperation could melt the snow for miles, and I will gather handfuls of blood into my handbag and keep limping along down the middle of the deserted street calling for someone to come and be my company. Or maybe for someone to just leave me alone.

We're heading home in the morning. Ben has been reinforced, patched and repaired and feels strong for having siphoned strength and wisdom from those ahead of him on the difficult path. The ones holding the flashlights while he trips gainfully along in the dark following my drops of blood and the smell of cloying fear that has lead him to me every night for the past two years.

Bridget is not reinforced. Bridget is a mess of sleeplessness and a runaway train of brewed coffee and frustration, a bundle of nerves and a frightful little thing right now.

Just frightful. I won an Ambien for my performance earlier. I plan to take it in about an hour and with a little luck I can begin the week on a better note. I have pulled all of our things together and I'll leave here reluctantly tomorrow. Looking back down the drive until I can't see the porch anymore. Wishing our visit had been longer or successful at all but instead we eat the wasted effort, a non-weekend. No do-overs, no time machine, no grace.

I can't help the past.

Off now to watch a bit of a movie (escape, Bridget) and snuggle down between Ben and Lochlan, human insulation from my relentless nightmares, deflection for the jealously I feel when Ben gets all the attention and I am left to slide.

Thank heavens I slide whoreizontally sometimes. I did not invent that word. Bet you can guess who did. But I can't say anything, I won't mess with the Witch-Lochtor when my sleep is at stake.

Will write when we are home tomorrow. We're leaving here super earlier. So early I don't know why I'm going to bed at all.

Important update.

Going to go with broccoli and cauliflower roasted with garlic and parmesan for vegetables.

And Nolan had these on my bedside table when we arrived. Are they not the prettiest damned things ever? Oh, I know, but sometimes it's the little things.

Lochlan is being nice. Still. A new record.

Hoping for sleep.

I'm making meatloaf for dinner. Everyone is turkeyed out, smoked out, worn out, rode hard and put up wet and there are places all over this house where you can find a boy with a beard and a book or a laptop and a hot cup of coffee and a lamp on low.

It's snowing again to add to the coziness.

It's grown dark so I went around and closed all the curtains in the bedrooms.

It's grown a bit chilly so I checked on the kids and saw that they were warm and I went and got one of Ben's hoodies because I always was a girl to steal a t-shirt/flannel jacket/suit coat from a man if cold.

Why not?

Ben has learned and he doubles up because he gets cold too.

Only now he has his beard to keep him warm and even though Movember comes to an end Tuesday he has been threatening to go all Wolverine on us and keep it. I love it, he looks beautiful with the longer hair and the beard. Wild, almost. Untamed.

Apt, perhaps.

We're missing Karsh by being here. We're missing the fake-ass black weekend pseudo-sales and the crazy Christmas traffic and the chaos of the city. We're missing the take-out and the noise and church tomorrow and that part is okay because Sam is here so we brought the God and the rest of them can suffer through substitute sermons and cold formal greetings. Tomorrow we'll have rock church in the snow, on horseback. Druid church more than Unitarian. Nature-worship while we still can.

I'm baking potatoes now too. One potato, two potato, just about six pounds total for one dinner. I'm still plotting vegetables, probably will use the rest of the cauli and call it good. Bread with garlic and olive oil. Wine for some, water for others. Milk for the children. Coffee for Ben. Coffee doesn't seem to affect Ben the way it affects me. Lucky boy.

Tonight I am planning to work my way through some more of Duma Key. Tucked in the crook of Ben's arm, warm, safe, full, sleepy.

Would like to just stay here for this. Maybe forever.

Calm before the storm.

Forging halos

Good morning. I've come out very late into the new morning with bedhead and a growling belly. Jeans from yesterday and Ben's hoodie zipped over nakedness because I am so hungry. Nolan left a pot of cream of wheat on the stove for me and a fire in the fireplace and there's a note on the counter that tells me men and children are out on the trail and they will be home in time for a snack mid-morning. Which means I have another hour or so to myself.

It's so lovely here. When we arrived last night, Nolan had decorated for Christmas. Or maybe he decorated for Ben and Bridget and we can become a holiday that people can celebrate. Every tree had lights, the whole way down the long driveway into the woods. Then at the house, the roof, railings and windows were outlined. Multicolored lights because Nolan once said all white lights were less festive and more sophisticated, and Christmas should be a festive time. I agreed but no one questions me leaving my tiny white lights up all year around either.

It looked amazing and I didn't expect it. He doesn't do much in the way of decorating. He has enough to keep him busy. But he did anyway and I love him all the more for the effort.

We came inside, dropped our bags, got hugs and went to our rooms. I tucked the children in in the midst of a huge yawn and I don't think I managed to turn out the light on the table beside the bed before I was in dreamland. Maybe Ben turned it off.

He did not sleep in. Up early to worship the gods of nature and serenity, he's been anxious to get out and get away from it all, so the ride will be good for him. My legs still ache from Christmas shopping in high heels yesterday and I'm thinking a hot bath might round out my lazy morning. It's chilly here. The temperature plummeted overnight and it's hard to get used to the cold outside and even more difficult to get moving now. I could stay under the quilts forever in our bed here, it's hard to imagine that life out from under those covers could be as good as life under them, but I'm up, for what it's worth and I plan to enjoy today. We're having a belated turkey day today. Everyone is here. I couldn't ask for more.

So break yourself against my stones
And spit your pity in my soul
You never needed any help
You sold me out to save yourself
And I won't listen to your shame
You ran away, you're all the same
Angels lie to keep control
My love was punished long ago
If you still care don't ever let me know
If you still care don't ever let me know

This morning is Slipknot and chili lime pistachios while I write emails and pay some bills and wrap up Caleb's week in business here at the loft. I'm headed out Christmas shopping shortly and then to the school for parent-teacher meetings and then with a little luck by dinner time we will be in the truck to join the caravan for the trip to the farm for 'Merican Thanksgiving. Nolan is waiting with open arms and we really really need a lot of that right now.

Happy thanksgiving! Again. because we get two. Think we can try for two Christmases too?

I know. Always worth a shot though.

Ben is doing better. Thank you for your kind thoughts.

Flakes, snow and otherwise.

Show me where it hurts
And I will make it worse.

I have been a busy little bee this morning. I went and bought wrapping paper and stocking stuffers. I found magic drip candles in a store and bought three boxes because I love those almost as much as magic rocks and fire, too. I made my list and tomorrow I plan to go back out and finish shopping for the children and for the out of province family and then I'll come home and finish packing for the farm.

We'd like to be out of here tomorrow evening. I have parent-teacher interviews tomorrow afternoon and then we're good to go. Might even have dinner on the road. Which kind of excites me, because really, Caleb's caliber of restaurant may be just lovely and easy to get used to, but nothing beats truckstop coffee.

And Bridget loves her coffee. I fell asleep in a cup of coffee yesterday afternoon which was a whole new narcoleptic low for me. I will blame the dog. He wakes up at five and so we put him up on the bed and he'll curl up against Ben's legs and sleep for the rest of the morning. But then hallo, Bridget's awake. Ben is awake too but he'll pretend he's asleep until the radio goes off an hour later.

I will sleep this weekend at Nolan's. Next week I will finish up shopping for the boys. Shhh.

I'm trying the Keeping Busy routine and hopefully I can recruit Ben into this plan and maybe we'll squeak through winter without any more upsets. Yesterday we laid low. Ben went to meetings with the boys. I stayed home with the other boys and wrote a little and tried to rest and got spoiled rotten and then Ben came home and rested too and I got a hell of a lot of cuddles and snuggles and a fire lit and kept and I went to sleep in tears anyway because I was worn out and overtired and not feeling so hot and totally frustrated. Ben put his arms around me and pulled me in tight against his chest.

While we slept the snow came, bringing with it a fresh start and a &#^@$* freezing cold morning. We do well when it snows. It's magic of a different sort.