I long for a day like this again.

I was having a grand time. Being absolutely miserable, as is my right on a day when it's dark and pouring rain. I learned the simple chords for A.A. Williams' Control a while back but I was working on timing. She's in my headphones just faintly while I sing out loud at the piano. I can't do the guitar part obviously. Will have to hire Pallbearer to do that for me or maybe ask Ben about it. I just pound the keys louder. 

Hear me out. (It's actually tattooed across the palm of my hand. It's faded because I wash so many dishes but it's there.

A hand lands on my shoulder and I flinch so hard I choke on the words and it all grinds to a halt and it makes me vaguely disappointed because I think I finally had it. The fingers grip without squeezing and I take off the headphones to see who needs me, even though I know who it is by touch.

His green eyes are glassy and his face is almost as sad as my heart. 

Stop. Peanut, please. You're killing me here. 

Do you have any requests, then? 

Not today. He kisses the top of my head. Maybe just quiet. 

Sometimes he can't stand listening to me try to hear myself. I don't know what to do about it but everyone says if I subject myself heavily to things that scare me eventually I won't be afraid of them any more so it should probably work for Lochlan too.

(Maybe the electricity was always obvious.)

Walking through the garden centre, staring at the back of Lochlan's neck. He is golden-pink but only down to the neckline of his t-shirt, as he always has his hair tied back now. It's longer than ever and he doesn't plan to cut it, he says the curls are less aggressive the longer it gets from the weight of that length and he's not wrong but there isn't a person alive who has met Lochlan who isn't in love with his giant golden-red pop-can curls save for Lochlan himself. 

He bought me a small pot of roses for the kitchen and a big stone fountain bubbler for outside near the apple tree. He carried the fountain and I carried the flowers. Within hours the hummingbirds were bathing in the fountain and the roses were blooming on the kitchen counter.

Staring at the back of his neck makes me feel ten years old again, watching for him in the crowd, focusing on following him without getting distracted, making sure to stay close, his ever-present t-shirt and jeans a flag, his hair a beacon, his scowl a casual master. He turns and gives a half-smile in relief that I am keeping up. He loads our purchases into the back of the truck and ties everything safely down so it can't roll around or fall and off we go for the drive home. This was a whim but it also finishes the food garden corner of the back lawn and so it's worth it, even though it involved a very expensive very long outdoor extension cord to pull it off and we'll have to spend time burying that so it runs by magic instead of obvious electricity. 

Like us, he points out and the smile goes full.

Unusual Fridays but so very nice.

Long story short, I had a surprise early period and bled all over Daniel and Schuyler's beautiful sheets. They laughed and confirmed that they have a mattress protector, and not to worry, and besides, I am the queen of getting blood out of clothes, thanks to decades of fistfights and bloody noses amongst the boys (personally: Lochlan)(hockey-related: Everyone else AND Lochlan). They weren't worried one bit but judging by my tearful dismay and general miserableness, Daniel declared it to be a feel-better day and so they threw away the sheets (I will fetch them later, don't worry. They are far too expensive and nice to toss when as we said, I can get the blood out) and Schuyler went off to make a big breakfast while Daniel ran me an extra-large, extra-hot, extra-long bubble bath and poured me a glass of champagne. 

Afterwards he helped rinse my hair and then gave me a full blow-out with his big professional hair dryer, remarked at the ridiculously long bangs that catch in my eyelashes but said he wasn't touching them and neither should Loch, agreed I have a cute bob now and to keep it going, and then he did a face mask with me (aloe/olive oil or something, it smelled really good) and we whitened our teeth and then he said after breakfast we can pick out nail polish colours and then he dressed me in a clean pair of pajamas (a button up shirt and boxers because pants aren't going to fit) and back to bed with more champagne just in time for breakfast to be served on their huge wooden wedding tray. 

I am becoming a breakfast-in-bed whore, that's for sure. 

Then back to watching Juliet, Naked because we all read the book years ago and liked it and I didn't know there was a movie. Then snoozing. Then nail polish. Then lunch but probably not. Then maybe more champagne and a chocolate bar because besides the hot bath and self-care they assume that chocolate fixes everything right now.

They might not be wrong but I'm pretty sure it's just the attention making me feel better. They said to wait until Lochlan shows up. They're going to talk him into having the same routine because he needs a break and a treat. That a hot bath and some pampering are necessary, not luxuries. That we all need it sometimes when the day feels wrong.

Breaks and treats for everyone. I love my fairy boys so much.

Inmate number fucking one.

 Just found out Asher also has both his vaccinations, because he's a caregiver. 

Oh, was that a stint before you got here? I ask him in surprise. 

No, it's now. My official rol- He stops and looks guilty so briefly but I see it.

What? No, you're a PA. Or an EA. Whatever you like to go by-

I stop when I see him shoot a glance toward the table. 

Oh. Why didn't someone tell me? 

You wouldn't like it but you also won't have me do it and it's necessary. Lochlan always tells me straight even though he didn't exactly tell me this.

But is it? Things are going well-

For now. 

Right, and then-

Bridget. 

What? 

Just leave it, pretend it's the EA thing. 

Well, I CAN'T now. 

Sure you can. 

I should have figured it out last week when he insisted on driving-

Bridgie. 

Don't keep me in the dark. 

It's payback, because that's where you keep me, and you can't do that anymore. Lochlan's face is grim but his eyes are nothing but kind. He's trying so hard and I don't give him an inch.  

But what about when I send him to do something? Or take time off? 

He can only agree if you are in custody of one of us. 

Ah. Right. Wow. So ironclad. Such jail. Many bars.

Not at all. Just a bigger safety net for you. That's all. It's not a punishment. 

I didn't say it was. But call a spade a spade, Locket. 

That's what I tell you.

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.