In Absentia

Halloween is coming. The boy wants to be a transformer. Optimus Prime to be exact. I think the costume will be a success. Our combined imaginations are working in overdrive. A bit of cardboard, a bit of audio packing foam, poster paint, tinfoil and silver face paint should do the trick. The girl wants to be a butterfly. Good thing I have access to a costume cellar. I found some wings left over from a production of Midsummer's. Today we'll pick up some pumpkins.

I remember loving Halloween. I still do. Going out at night and seeing kids everywhere. The night always holds some magic. It's easy to believe that there are spirits joining in the festivities as we race up another strange driveway unsure of who resides on the other side of the door. I especially like trick or treating in this neighbourhood. The houses are beautiful and I love the chance to peek inside.

It's weird this year tho'. Although J never really was involved with our Halloween preparations or with the night itself, he was present. He was there. I'm not sure how his lack of presence will change things. It probably won't ... except for the fact that it's just one more event that he will be completely removed from. In absentia. The longer this separation goes on the more I am realizing how little my life is actually changing. Is this something I should have forseen? Expected? Was J's footprint really only imprinted on sand?

The Way I See It

Well, the way I see it, if she doesn't matter to you, it really shouldn't matter to you how/when/in what context I bring her up. If anything I say about her bothers you, well, I guess she matters eh?

Not that it really matters either way. It's your own discomfort/guilt that is most telling.

Obsessively Compulsive

Obsessions have been keeping me away. Not serious ones. Little ones. Obsessions that creep into my daily life and have prevented me from writing. President's Choice spinach dip is one. I couldn't get enough of it for a while. That and greek-styled pita bread. I'm over that one after having smelled it one day and being left with the faintest yet still detectable hint of nausea. I had, I fear, over indulged. Another obession? Making sure that there is a bountiful supply of fresh fruit in the house. It is fall harvest time and I am trying to make the most of it. Keeping up with fall television programming is yet another endeavor. I love pretty much all that showcase has to offer. The rest is well...shit. Not all of it but, I think my addiction to the tele has also seen its day. The Bionic Woman is a remake of La Femme Nikita but more 'techno.' Boston Legal has forgotten why it worked in the first place -- that the characters had some depth. The rest is dreck. I'll watch it. But its dreck.

I am grooving off of Aikido. It's starting to make sense. The instructor's approach to teaching works for me. Bits and pieces of a whole are offered up each week. I come home after practicing a new technique a hundred times or so. I'm a bit battered and bruised in that 'oh so good I used and abused my body and could take it' way. Slowly the different techniques are beginning to make sense as parts of a greater whole. The teaching approach is spherical rather than linear. Plural rather than singular. Repetition appeals to me right now. I'm beginning to know and experience my body in new ways. I actually feel more connected than I have ever been. Strange.

Little tasks make up my work day. Daily chores make up my home life. Things are getting done. Life is continuing.