SWORDFERN
Rooted, I used to think.

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Purgatory - Sunday, Feb. 10, 2019
Day Fifteen - Saturday, Feb. 09, 2019
Day Fourteen - Saturday, Feb. 09, 2019
Day Thirteen - Thursday, Feb. 07, 2019
Atonement - Thursday, Feb. 07, 2019


2002-04-22 @ 12:23 a.m.
Achoo!



Up at dawn to feed the sheep. Never before has hay caused me to sneeze so violently. Never before has hay raised hives on my wrists and neck. This should be an interesting year of feeding hay nearly every day. Antihistamines. God, I hope they work on alfalfa hay.

I arrived back at our house with a flat of eggs balanced on my handle bars. My roommate was just leaving and she commented on how early I was up on a Sunday. "I had to go feed the sheep." How many people on campus can say that? I think she thought I was joking. She really has no clue about my life, and she sleeps in the room next to me.

The lambs are so big now. They all try to leave the pen as I enter with a bucket of cubes, but they can only go one at a time now through the little door. Just like the Lion's Gate at 6pm. They all wait in a fan of merging lines. And the really fat one tries to go under the fence like they used to be able to do, and gets stuck at his shoulders. It makes me snicker.

So the guys had another gig tonight. This one their CD Release Party. I missed most of it because I said I'd go with a friend.. who forgot to bring my ticket AND was 2 hours late. But things like that just happen. No use in getting upset.

I gave a bum a banana. He was carrying a box of cereal and was asking for milk.

...and of course (ex)Dave was there. He had his face so close to mine when he was talking to me, his nose touching my ear, my eyelashes brushing his cheek. "You should come up to The Cabin this week. You need to take a break from school and work. Come. Relax." The Cabin is where I finally agreed to be his girlfriend, back in 1999. He cried on my shoulder after he'd called home and heard his sister had overdosed on painkillers. Right then I knew I could love him. But I promised my boss I'd work this week. And go drinking with a friend. And help a co-worker move with aid of my trusty van. But, oh, what two nights at The Cabin would be like. Isolated, frigid lake. Candles and blankets and the wood burning stove. Drinking games...


Roots | Shoots