I adore cicadas, an odd thing, but they interest me in all sorts of ways. How does one shred its hull? The sound a cicada makes cheers me, the steady hum and drone. I hear the sound all the time.
Sep 27, 2013
Cicada wings
I adore cicadas, an odd thing, but they interest me in all sorts of ways. How does one shred its hull? The sound a cicada makes cheers me, the steady hum and drone. I hear the sound all the time.
Sep 25, 2013
The Ghost in the Room, Mother
Originally there was a video here by Florence and the Machine. It's a placeholder now.
EDITED: the summer of 2019. This is the week (2013) that I learned my husband was going to possibly die. I was so upset I got the shingles. I knew that I would write this blog without mentioning his illness, because this was how he wanted it to be. There would be no talk of illness and death and "cancer comes back in a third and all that" because this was the way he wanted it to be. He would fight it and I would help him, take care of him, support him, and do the best that I could with my work and life. Rereading this blog, I see how there are so many things I did not follow up on, which is perfectly normal, considering my life at home and how I chose to live it. I posted this, because I missed my mother. I wanted to talk to her and this was our song, which I only heard later long after Mother died. I never listened to music at this time, or any other time. A whole decade, I could not listen to it. I could not listen to anything. Everyone I loved died in a decade, and then my husband got sick. It was never the same. Nothing was the same. Then he died, too. Don't fret I survived. I'm not the one who is dead. Not yet.
EDITED: the summer of 2019. This is the week (2013) that I learned my husband was going to possibly die. I was so upset I got the shingles. I knew that I would write this blog without mentioning his illness, because this was how he wanted it to be. There would be no talk of illness and death and "cancer comes back in a third and all that" because this was the way he wanted it to be. He would fight it and I would help him, take care of him, support him, and do the best that I could with my work and life. Rereading this blog, I see how there are so many things I did not follow up on, which is perfectly normal, considering my life at home and how I chose to live it. I posted this, because I missed my mother. I wanted to talk to her and this was our song, which I only heard later long after Mother died. I never listened to music at this time, or any other time. A whole decade, I could not listen to it. I could not listen to anything. Everyone I loved died in a decade, and then my husband got sick. It was never the same. Nothing was the same. Then he died, too. Don't fret I survived. I'm not the one who is dead. Not yet.
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