June 23, 2011

8:14 p.m.

Thursday

Rain again, all day. I try to dehumidify the basement -- sucking up water with the shop vac when necessary -- and keep the kitty in. She's funny when it rains. I open the back door at her pleading, showing her it's raining. She opts to stay in. But then she runs to the front door, as if it won't also be raining there. Back and forth we go. I let her think it was her idea to stay inside.

I told someone recently that "I got her young enough that we bonded together. Now we both come when called."

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Reading back what I wrote about a potential lover -- now that sounds presumptuous and silly. Pem@ Ch0dron has reminded me that, whatever we think about a situation or its outcome, we really don't know. I should not presume to think it's all up to me, or that I even know what I want. Silly old lady. I will revise what I said to read that I'm having a regular weekly movie-date-at-home with Teller, and finding him worth getting to know as a friend. Anything else is hearsay and speculation.

It has at least gotten me thinking about my possible worth as a lover. I've gotten sadly out of shape these last few years -- work on the house and gardens comes in spurts and then goes away, so there has been no consistency in my exercise. Fifty-two doesn't tone itself. So I started jogging again this week for the first time since probably early 2008. I found a bike trail fairly close by, perfect for running. Several weeks ago I finally located some running shoes that fit well enough. That quest took about three years. So far so good. I walked/jogged yesterday in a light rain. It'll be a while before I can run consistently without walking too, but I'm taking it as slowly as I need to. Today I'm a little fatigued. It does feel very good to have started -- whether anyone ever sees me naked again or not!

It's odd, this hiatus from intimacy. Odd, now. It's been nearly four years. I had started to miss it. I don't know if Teller is the right one for me to take up with, either. But he kissed me goodbye last week, tentatively, politely. Later, wrote that he hoped he hadn't overstepped. Who the hell knows. I assume nothing. He's a little shy. We are enjoying the first season of Her0es, two episodes per Saturday night. It's my third viewing and I'm just as excited about it as before. Afterwards we talk and talk until we're falling over sleepy. Funny how it's become the highlight of my week in such a short time. But he talks too much when he's tired, and he doesn't write much and dislikes the phone, so there is hardly anything in between. I'm leaving space for the possibility that he's merely cute and I'm merely lonely and there isn't anything else to vie for. At least I'm feeling a little something for someone. That alone, I guess, is worth the price of admission.

I have had two touring dreams in the last week. It's been two and a half weeks since our last gig. In the first I was sitting with my open suitcase on a sidewalk corner in New York City. I had to just pack away a couple of things before heading somehow to the airport to go home. I was changing my shoes and socks. The sidewalks were mobbed with people going back and forth. I was having trouble getting organized. Then a parade started coming down the street and I knew they blocked off the streets for these, so I thought I'd have to just sit and watch it. A woman came and sat on the closed front of my suitcase to watch the parade go by. End of dream.

In the second one, we had finished our England tour and still had three days to wait for our flight. We had to book it that way for a better fare. For some reason I was staying with a hispanic family with several small children. I was sleeping on a mattress on the living room floor, and nobody spoke English. They were treating me like an honored guest, giving me most of their food and being so nice, especially the kids. I felt humbled by their generosity but also really stuck there since I couldn't leave until the day of the flight.

It's still amazing to me that I'm home. I did a transition ritual out in the big garden last weekend, having cut a path through the tall winter rye that curved into the center. There was a natural clearing there already (surprise, surprise). I gave my thanks, burned all the things I was releasing, planted all the things I was embracing (under some wildflower seeds), changed my shoes and emerged, a homebody and earth tender. I also burned my fingernail clippings that I'd cut off after the last gig. It is wonderful to have them short now. The eczema is somewhat better. My fingertips are very tender but there isn't a full breakout right now.

I am exhausted. More later.