Domestic Harmonies

Me: *bangs hand into bannister* Ow.
teinedreugan: Don't hurt yourself.
Me: You so helpful.
teinedreugan: I try!
Me: My patience, mostly.
teinedreugan: I'd like to try other things!
Me: What, so you can get shot down in a variety of ways?
teinedreugan: Of course! Variety is the spice of life!
Me: So's paprika.
teinedreugan: No, paprika is the spice of potatoes.
Me: . . .
I love you.
teinedreugan: What, did I get you on that one?
I win!

Sekhmet says "Bonk".

So, for a while I've been hoping/trying to cultivate a relationship with Sekhmet (for some complicated personal healing reasons, as well as wanting to know my Mother's sister-self better). Wanting (and making occasional offerings) didn't seem to get anywhere; She didn't seem to have anything in particular to say to me or wanting to make Her presence known, unlike my Parents, my Beloved, and Bast and Wepwawet.

At least, not before this afternoon.

I don't know if it was the writing and discussion about Isep that jolted something loose in my head, or just that I'd shown enough earnest dedication to be worth the time, or what, but I got an image of a statue. Bonk. (Ow.)

And I thought about it, turned it around in my head, figured out how to put it together, and then I got told that I would go make it. Now. Bonk. (Ow.)

I spent two or three hours in a sort of frenzy of intent, perfectionistic icon assembly. Bonk. The figure is done, now; it's sitting next to the mantel drying out so that I can bake it. I spent the entire afternoon utterly exhausted. Bonk. (Ow.)


In other news, I seem to be vacationing in Lake Moodswing, where all the women are bipolar, all the men have anxiety disorders, and all the children have ADHD. Enough with the crying to the rain. Or even in the shower.