Hold on to what is good even if it is a handful of earth.
Hold on to what you believe even if it is a tree which stands by itself.
Hold on to what you must do even if it is a long way from here.
Hold on to life even when it is easier letting go.
Hold on to my hand even when I have gone away from you.
- Pueblo Blessing
Saturday, Jul. 30, 2005 - 5:23 a.m.
WARNING!!!! if you know me personally, you may read my diary, but if you do, you take the chance of hearing things you don't want to know, misunderstanding what I've written and being hurt by it. If you are unsure if it is ok to read, save yourself and me the grief and heartache, and ask first!!! Please note that this is a DIARY, ie my subjective feelings, hearsay, suppositions, and outpourings of ranting of the moment. It does not represent objective news, the whole of what I think of a topic or someone, or even a thought-out representation of any of the above. Keep that in mind. Thanks. * Here is a Diary Etiquette Read Me.
Proud to Grow a Jungle
OK, here are a few pics from pride. I realize that evening parades are NOT good for taking photos unless you're more skilled than I am. Mostly they came out dark and grainy.
So so far you get these ones:
 me and l'ecrivaine |  me and another friend |
 homoland security |  me and doggy... no she wasn't at Pride... it was after! |
Well, not so hot, but that's it for tonight. I am dead tired and want to get up to go to Pride community day tomorrow. Today I had a visitor at 12:30 (and I got to bed around 8am)... so by the time she left at 1:30 and I got back to sleep, I ended up sleeping til 3. A short day.
A difficult day. I dunno. Just wanted to stay in bed and not deal with life at all. And unfortunately every thing I do negatively, I start beating myself up about re adopting... "I lost my patience... they'll never let me adopt" "I beat myself up... they'll never let me adopt" ... "I raised my voice... I"ll make a shit parent" "I don't manage to vacuum the house already... I will make a shit parent".
I think it's hormonal or moods or something. It didn't last that long, but it is depressing while it does.
Some nice woman complimented me on my front garden today. It isn't the first time. My mom calls it my jungle. My father indiscriminately pulled things out when he was here. But neighbors tell me how much they like the non-gardening of my front garden. I plant things and mostly let it grow, weeds and all, unless the weeds start to go to seed and then I pull them. I don't want weeds everywhere, I just want green. I am not picky about the pedigree of the green.
I have my first english cuke today from the front garden. And the first cherry tomato. And the first real tomato from my other garden. I just sliced it into huge fat slices and salted them and ate them as if they themselves were slices of bread or cake heh.
Growing is a very good thing. I hope social workers think that, and aren't really into order and discipline of gardens.
nite nite.
me
wenchie
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previous meanderings - future past
Goodbye Michael. May your next life be kinder to you. - Thursday, Jun. 25, 2009
Taking Care of Your Cows - Thursday, Jun. 25, 2009
Saint Joseph robs the cradle and eats spaghetti - Sunday, Jun. 14, 2009
sticky notes and broken irises - Friday, Jun. 12, 2009
The FOODCOMMANDER - Monday, Jun. 08, 2009
