Rip Van Winkle Syndrome; Ramblings

 It's very disorienting when the weather shifts at the same time as the time change.  Suddenly we went from being hot and light to being cold and dark and it makes you think that like Rip Van Winkle you took an overlong nap and missed a month or two somewhere.

I've spent a few more days dismembering the tree.  I posted this picture last time:

Here's a bit more of a closeup of the top.

So there was a bit of stuff to cut and drag.  Now I'm working on this tree behind it.  I've also grubbed up the cactus that was taking over this area.  And learned to regret it.  I was good at carefully avoiding the spines, without realizing that there were also fine almost invisible ones that easily worked though the leather of my gloves and into my hands.

But then there is a reward.

It's all very satisfying.  But it also twists me up a little inside.  I wish someone had seen the before-and-after and gone "Wow."  I wish there was someone to be proud of me.  And I really wish he was here to sit by the fire with me.

In general I'm going through a period where I feel like I keep losing, like my life keeps getting smaller.  Even little things - at one point in the blog I wrote about getting butter chicken at a gas station, along with a big "Hello, my friend!" and a hug from the manager.  But he and his wife decided to go back to Canada (after experiencing a Florida summer).   I miss the little thump thump thump of Stumble's awkward little walk.  I miss FaceBook - I used to turn to it for engagement.  But now that the feed is getting more and more choked with false accounts and AI written stories, real people aren't posting as much (and it's hard to spot when they do - too much chaff, not enough wheat).  There's a gap in my mouth where there used to be a tooth.  I missed the Silent Book Club meeting in August (Bug's first surgery), September (I had a bad cold) and October (Bug's amputation) and I was really looking forward to going this month - but it's not happening (Thanksgiving getting I the way) and for some reason they need to find a new venue (the coffee shop where we met was owner run and maybe he wants to sleep in on Sunday mornings).  The library book club isn't meeting this month.

RedBug is sweet and purring and loving and even hopped into the den last night to sit on the couch with me.   I'm glad that he's handling things so well, but I still get that twisted feeling when I see nothing but an incision where his leg used to be.

I had a dream about Bob (which I don't do often enough - but if I dreamed of him more often I'd probably end up sleeping all the time).  We were in the barn, planning on a build or a project.  But then a car pulled up and he said "That's my ride - gotta go."  I grabbed onto him, tightly, and started crying.  He asked what was wrong.  I said that I couldn't explain, and he wouldn't understand, but I just missed him so much.  I was able to kiss him before I woke up.

I keep remembering stories or fairy tales where a person is gone (or dead) but they can come visit one day a year.  I almost viciously wish for that.  Just a day, one day, where I could lean against him and rest and feel safe. 

So I've been in this mood lately where I look at anything I love - my land, my stream, my cats, my health - and wonder when I'll lose that too.  I lie in bed at night and fear the future.

I need to stop that.  I need to let the future come when it may, and deal with whatever blows it delivers.  I need to live in the now.  So - this is for 2026 self -  I'm back on the antidepressants.  I don't like to take them all of the time, but they do help me when I've fallen in the hole until I can climb back out again.