Feeling better. Might be the caffeine. Might be the Devil. Might even be the rain. No body yet either.

I have more energy this morning. Caleb did not let go, gaining custody of me late last evening when I fell asleep in the middle of listening to him list all the things he wants to do next week when the province announces a downgrade to epidemic (?) and things begin to slowly open back up. He is fully vaccinated now and does not seem to feel as if mere mortals can affect him, as he is anxious to fulfill all the adventures he's been promising me for the past two years while we've been locked down. 

Keep in mind I had my first shot nine days ago, am not having a good time with it and there's no hope of a second vaccine for me until at least mid-August. LOL *cries*

I think this is fine, being bound to the point with everyone home, frankly. And Caleb was on his best behaviour last night and today, not waking me until this morning, when he pulled me and the quilt up against him and crushed a kiss against my mouth even as he failed to ask if I even wanted him, probably knowing the answer (HA. Always) and then later when he let go he left me wrapped up tight in the sheets, pulling me up again to rest in his arms and he one-handed a big tray onto the bed which to my delight featured ristrettos, a bowl of banana chunks, one of grapes and two plates of toast with cheese. 

And then he walked me home, down the dim quiet hallways to my door, knocking softly, planting a kiss on my forehead before turning to head back to his wing for some reading.

Home for soulful (sorrowful) ghostie friends.

A beautiful, breezy day but I am not allowed to kayak or even walk on the beach today because yesterday at the park they found an empty kayak and the boys are concerned that I might find a body in my travels, which is a little too Stand By Me for them, I guess even though I think it would be exciting to solve a mystery and help provide closure to a family who is in distress. 

But when I point this out Lochlan says Absolutely not, Peanut. 

He agrees with the sentiment but not the person, and they instead are scouring the coast regularly because the current goes this way from the park and it's conceivable that someone who is no longer alive will show up for dinner, with the tides, though the ghosts that are already here will probably scare a new one off, demanding that the new ghost interloper find their own point to haunt, that this one is full up. I wanted to ask Jake if that were true, if that is something one does after, be territorial and selfish like that but Lochlan knows damn well if he lets me out of his sight I am headed straight to the beach to look for bones. That's what I said when he said no, as he can't keep me from my beach forever and it could be days, weeks or years before someone washes ashore and if it's just bones by then they might even be easier to find.

He nods and says by then it will be fine but until he decides exactly when is, they will be doing a sweep first. Gristly and then some but apparently not as bad as finding a saltwater-bloated corpse on a sunny spring day. 

Which is probably true but I think we should get it over with. It's HELPING. 

It's HAUNTING, they remind me. You will see it every time you close your eyes. 

I am ALREADY HAUNTED. What's one more, if Jake lets them stay?

My favorite things.

 Daniel and I have matching confetti glitter nails and a love for the Netflix show Sweet Tooth. We have a stash of sour patch candy (because duh, we love sugar anyway) and we've spent the last day and a half tucked away watching wholesome shows and napping in the rain. Now it's a sunny Monday and our plan is to continue because I still don't feel good from the stupid vaccine which I wanted very badly but I have a new set of rashes now (apparently it's called Covid Arm and I have to get my second vaccine in the opposite arm), still so tired I can hardly think, mildly feverish and a little bit sickish when my blood sugar drops too low so we raced through the chores we needed to do at our respective homes and then went back to bed. It's perfect. People come and go. We just stay on. He is keeping watch, I am the child with antlers.

Also watched the Conjuring: Devil Made me do it and a very respectable entry to the franchise, I think.

Second coffee up in the park by the lake. I saw two deer. Lochlan offered to turn so I could take photos but I don't need bad photos of them bolting from the sound. I need them to feel safe in a field just a little removed from the road by a heavy band of blackberries and old barbed wire fencing. 

More rain and it's cold and I had to go back for a sweater, jeans and socks as a t-shirt and leggings weren't doing it today. PJ turned the heat back up. The woodpeckers came to the yard and cleaned up all of the birdseed I spilled in trying to hang the feeder out this morning and the poppies are taking over. 

Jacob wasn't anywhere to be found. 

We came home, retreated to our respective corners and now I am listening to Sam's podcast and working away at the mending pile. Every now and then a boy will come by and remark that he should learn to do it too and then it would go faster and also life skill but when I call their bluff and ask them to pull up a chair they make their excuses and go away again, but not too far. I really enjoy handsewing and now there's a whole new movement based on 'slow' sewing and repairing instead of replacing. The way we've always done it, I guess. 

I didn't finish the first or the second coffee, which is weird. I have a really bad metallic taste in my mouth and my arm feels heavy and bruised and I still want to sleep all the time. I hope the second shot is far less eventful but it can always be worse. At least while I'm down I still have lots to keep me busy. 

I did take pictures of an old abandoned house I want to paint. Really excited about that. This is one of the best weekends in a long time for actually resting and I like that too.

Funny, White Nights was also that Taylor Hackford film I adored when I was thirteen and still didn't get loyalty or romance, for that matter.

A breakfast date with the Devil in which he arranges a seaside picnic meal of eggs benedict, caviar and mimosas , coffee and chocolate croissants  followed by a trip to get the good Russian watercolours and a few other odds and ends and I've been happily painting in my studio ever since. I fell in love with the St. Petersburg sticky, messy watercolours a while ago but have only had a couple of pans. Usually I use Japanese watercolours but I prefer the behaviour of the Russian. English paints are now a close third but not that different from the Japanese ones, even in price. This will keep me busy through summer. 

I forgot to buy a smaller drawing board as I tend to sit up on my knees on a high stool with the paper taped to the board. The board itself is 25x23" and I end up with the paint, water jar, rags and brushes balancing on the board too because there's never room left on the table otherwise and I need something a little less unwieldy, though this served its purpose nicely. Big format is not my favorite. I like everything pocket-sized. The smallest board I can find is 11x17" but I want to see them in person so I will wait til the next trip, though walking into an art supply store with Caleb is almost orgasmicly awful, as I will express interest in something and he'll take it in hand and if I protest he says he wants to try it, and then he gives it to me when we get home. So I have to walk and look so carefully. He means well, of course. 

Yes, he paints. His style is so perfect and refined, I am jealous. I paint like someone has taped a brush to an expelling helium balloon. I get paint everywhere. I go in without a plan and sometimes I come out with a masterpiece. I've only been disappointed once and I fixed it and painted something else but I am determined to master watercolours, because they are so airy and delicate and far easier to travel with. Sometimes the daunting task of setting up for acrylics is crushing. And I gave up oils years ago. 

But yes. Round Yupo paper (on an extreme whim but Legion paper and I have a great relationship. They make all of this cool paper and I just buy everything I can find) and new Russian watercolors, a belly full of eggs and then more eggs, coffee and pastries and the rain falling just so that everything is tinged with a heady petrichor breeze and I would call this a perfect Saturday.

It's happening and I won't be there, either.

What are you doing? 

Trying to figure out which way Ohio is. 

For what-

Nothing! Not doing anything. 

You are NOT going to the Gathering. 

Maybe I am-

Bridget. 

What? Don't worry. I can't even go to Dairy Queen down the road. I don't think you have to worry too much.

Things I've learned this week.

1. Tik Tok is literally the greatest app ever, for when I get tired of Cribbage With Grandpa, I mean. The best Tik Tokker (?) is Andy Bird AKA DreadfulBird who pops in around the clock with the same message, adding a bit here and there but essentially telling us to take a moment and it's so glorious. Second best is William White AKA Whiteyy18 who has a dreamy eighties Rob Lowe thing going on where he lip syncs to classic love songs (like that isn't my jam) and I admit I was rocked back when he showed up on my FYP. Yes, I have an account on it, no I haven't posted any videos. But I can spend hours watching other people and we are trying to convince Lochlan to teach people juggling on an account but Lochlan's phone...is a phone, and for some reason he laughs when I show him videos but refuses to download it to enjoy anything. He's weird. 
2. Peonies last forever in a vase of water. Ants however, also last forever and come in with them so you have to leave the closed buds upsidedown in water for a bit first. THEN bring them in.
3. The pool chemicals finally don't hurt my face AKA it takes four weeks to recover from multiple wasp stings.
4. My eye still burns and one part of my face so that means nerve damage. FUN.
5. Gatorade is greater than Diet Coke.
6. If you wish for something hard enough it can happen. I was able to finally submit for a tattoo project with one of my all-time favourite artists ever. Cross you fingers for me, I really want this work by this artist. 
7. Papyrus cards come with a warning about requiring extra postage. Who knew? We literally ALL sign all the father's day cards that go out around the globe and it takes two days to prepare the cards and then cross-check to make sure they got signed by all of us (the dads will check) and then as I am putting stamps on them I saw the note and I'm like noooooooooo. But they don't seem heavy and they meet the size requirement for letter mail so we mailed them early and will hopefully not get them back for insufficent postage. Christ on a pancake. 
8. The mouse in the garden does not like critter spray (I use it around the garden sheds to keep the raccoons out). Neither do I. I sprayed it in the wind last night and had a wonderful coughing fit. Essentially I pepper-sprayed myself.
9. It's Friday eventually. Finally. Now. Today.
10. Moderna makes me nauseous as hell and extremely tired, hence the Gatorade revelation.
    
11.  If the dog needs to get up at midnight to go outside and then again at five in the morning, someone (me) should probably check his backside for poop dribbles before letting him back up on the bed because I had a chance to sleep until seven. Yup. Someone (me) cleaned it all up though.
12. Restaurants are open and I really really really want that Monte Cristo now but I am afraid and I am surprised and pleased at myself for that feeling and so therefore we will get takeout sushi as always.
    

The very last package of baby-pink shiny heart pasties was sitting in my bureau drawer just for this moment. Or rather, an upcoming one.

I got really confused yesterday because everything online was Pride month this and that and as far as I know it's always the hottest weekend of the year that Pride takes place on, and it's not in June, it's at the end of July/start of August. I didn't realize how much of the content I see online is American. Or maybe how little of a footprint Canada has, as we've been a gay-friendly country overall for thirty-something years now while the US seems to be just waking up. In any event, it spurred a group planning dinner in which we are plotting and scheming a Pride weekend party here for the long weekend at the beginning of August and we're going to have a drag parade and entertainment and glitter rain and a big picnic with live music and dancing and I do love having something to plan for. Maybe it can even serve as a defacto early anniversary party for Lochlan and I. Maybe it can just be a fun event we can work towards to pull us out of the strange pandemic-wane in which we are still too horrified to go to crowded places and are still curating our mask collections with all the ferver of early virus times. 

I don't know. But now I need to source a crane with biodegradable, environmentally-friendly glitter rain and that's going to be a literal tall order here. 

And if you don't already live here on the Point you aren't invited. I figure I should make that clear right off. We're now a lost and hidden tribe. We don't show ourselves to the outside world. We don't let them in. 

If only, Lochlan breathes. He's excited. Straightest man on the point but God, does he love drag.

Deep (end).

 I'm listening to the new Billie Eilish single this morning. I can rearrange this for the piano but her voice is unique and I really like listening so I may leave it. Besides, Lochlan's been hogging the piano all week sorting out a good arrangement of Honky Cat, I think just to make me laugh.

It's working. 

He really has a such a flair. It's almost incredible how surrounded we are by surly musicians and Lochlan turns out to be the most flamboyant performer of all. The rest are shy and yielding, hard to cajole, impossible to convince to perform. Circus people are not like that. We just do it, because we have to. It's a compulsion. It is a complete and utter lack of shame or self-regard and a huge desire to get that high from smiles on people's faces. Or wonderment. Shock. Surprise. Fear. Relief. Whatever works. 

Add in music and well, that's the holy grail of our lives. The backbone. 

I let Ben turn off my alarm in order for me to ignore it this morning. I let Daniel paint my toes with pink glitter. I let Asher take my inventory and decide that sleep wasn't forthcoming and drugs would be, and then he announced to the house that he noticed I liked hot, elaborate and complete breakfasts and then preferred to graze for the remainder of the day on fruit or crackers or just booze and he's not wrong but I also pride myself on having a big family dinner every night and I wait until everyone's home, and most of the time these days everyone is so not a huge deal. 

Then he made me bruschetta with cheese on twelve grain bread and it was one of the best breakfasts I have ever had. 

No one argued with him. They know. But they are also of the time to skip breakfast completely and I will die before I start cooking early so this will clearly be a him-thing when he's working for me, and well, coffee when he is not. 

He will be for the next few days while I sit at the bottom of the pool. It suddenly got insanely hot out and the pool is the only place we can get any relief. Asher says this is the best and chillest job he thinks he's ever had and that makes me sad because babysitting a mentally ill woman who is already babysat by levels of people would be a difficult job but he acts like he's on vacation and if I ask him for something he acts like he's doing a favour for his very best friend. 

I wonder if it will last. 

(I think it will.)

Love in a mist.

How are you feeling? 

I am on the swing and I hear him before I see him, as is his usual routine these days. He gets into my head first and works his way out until my eyes catch sight of the blonde hair and the ever-present pale blue button down.

I look for Caleb but he is clear on the other side of the vineyard inspecting the new shed. He's not a gardener as such but I can get him to walk the grounds and it's shady out here so I like to come out and see what's growing before the sun can touch me. I always stop for ten or fifteen for a thought and a swing, and no one ever seems to mind. And I don't know who put Jacob in the orchard but maybe he's here so I can see him from my studio windows. Or maybe he's just here because he follows me wherever I go.

I've had better springs. My face still has pain. And I got my vaccine so honestly I could sleep for a month, if prompted. 

You could sleep more, that's for sure. 

Are you there too? 

I'm with you all the time. 

Personal Jesus. Wasn't that a song?

By a band you don't like. 

Who gave you permission to follow me around? 

You did. 

When did I do this? 

When you chose to never stop grieving. 

Am I supposed to stop?

Most people do. 

I have never ever been a 'most-people'. 

This is true. 

Neamhchiontach. Oh. The Devil is back around this way and the spell is broken. Jacob retreats back behind my eyes and Caleb is there holding out a grand bouquet of nigella flowers, one of my favourites. I planted a metric ton of them all around the edge of the side yard and they have grown up in a knee-high perimeter of  airy star-shaped blue and white delicate blooms that make me so happy they beat every bouquet professionally willed into this house. Ruth and I have been pressing them constantly to use in future projects. I've been trying to paint them. It doesn't stop and it's considered a good healthy obsession, one of so few that garners approval. 

Wow. Thank you. 

They are almost as beautiful as you. What were you saying when I came up? Did you have to stop swinging because I'm back? No. Not if you don't want to. 

I think I'm done for now. 

Okay, we can work our way back. He holds out his elbow so that I can take his arm and we head back down the hill.