quen up and face the water hag

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so last night’s Witchering got off to a late start because DF had to have the kind of phonecall with his dad where he completely reverts to his native accent. (I overheard him pronounce the word ‘water’ as ‘worter’ and knew it was gonna be another hour at least.) And poor MM had been up too late for her needs-9-hours-of-sleep biology the night before, and was just sitting on the couch listlessly listening to her night owl 5 year old playing loudly next to the baby monitor upstairs, waiting for the kid to go to sleep so she could go up and also go to sleep. (if she goes up while Girl is still awake, then there are Shenanigans and it doesn’t work out well at all. You gotta wait for the silence.)

Poor MM was very invested in the Plague Maiden quest and we wanted to do it while she was awake, so we tried to just dive right in as soon as DF was off the phone, but… it’s not quick.

( of course spoilers for the pesta quest )

Hanging in there in isolation. Writing letters and cards,...

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Hanging in there in isolation. Writing letters and cards, finding bones in the woods (we think it was a raccoon?), going on carefully distant walks around the neighborhood (with an assist from zobar2 on the child-entertaining stick that worked neatly as a distancing reminder)… And most of all togetherness on the couch. (Uh, and mimosas. Those were good too.)
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agh

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tw intrusive thoughts! about knives! ugh please don’t click if that’s upsetting to you specifically!

This used to happen to me a lot at Farmsister’s house because she doesn’t own any sane-sized knives, just tiny paring knives OR HUGE BUTCHER KNIVES and nothing in between. I like to use, like, a 4-6″ chef’s knife to do my cutting of things. I generally don’t have trouble with it.

But after using Farmsister’s HUGE BUTCHER KNIVES I often have had problems where I just have vivid intrusive thoughts about what it would look like if I just. Chopped my thumb off at the knuckle, or whatever. It’s real vivid, the whole slice noise and the thunk of the heavy knife hitting the cutting board. 

Just know I cut up a bunch of vegetables with MM’s chef’s knife, which is reasonable, if rather longer than I prefer.

And now I’m sitting here thinking about what it would do to my hands! Argh! Why! I don’t like this.

I think it’s generally a symptom of not feeling super okay in my mind, to have these thoughts. (And, important note! This is not, like, self-harming thoughts! This is not something I want! There is no volition involved in this!) Because, like, you know, when you’re worried about your life choices and distressed about stuff that’s semi-within your control but mostly not, what you really need are distressingly vivid intrusive thoughts about what would happen if you carved yourself up, presumably by accident!

gatheringbones: “Young trees are so keen on

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gatheringbones:

“Young trees are so keen on growing quickly that it would be no problem at all for them to grow about 18 inches taller per season. Unfortunately for them, their own mothers do not approve of rapid growth. They shade their offspring with their enormous crowns, and the crowns of all the mature trees close up to form a thick canopy over the forest floor. This canopy lets only 3 percent of available sunlight reach the ground and, therefore, their children’s leaves. Three percent—that’s practically nothing. With that amount of sunlight, a tree can photosynthesize just enough to keep its own body from dying. There’s nothing left to fuel a decent drive upward or even a thicker trunk. And rebellion against this strict upbringing is impossible, because there’s no energy to sustain it. Upbringing? you ask. Yes, I am indeed talking about a pedagogical method that ensures the well-being of the little ones. And I didn’t just come up with the term out of the blue—it’s been used by generations of foresters to refer to this kind of behavior. The method used in this upbringing is light deprivation. But what purpose does this restriction serve? Don’t parents want their offspring to become independent as quickly as possible? Trees, at least, would answer this question with a resounding no, and recent science backs them up. Scientists have determined that slow growth when the tree is young is a prerequisite if a tree is to live to a ripe old age. As people, we easily lose sight of what is truly old for a tree, because modern forestry targets a maximum age of 80 to 120 years before plantation trees are cut down and turned into cash. Under natural conditions, trees that age are no thicker than a pencil and no taller than a person. Thanks to slow growth, their inner woody cells are tiny and contain almost no air. That makes the trees flexible and resistant to breaking in storms. Even more important is their heightened resistance to fungi, which have difficulty spreading through the tough little trunks. Injuries are no big deal for such trees, either, because they can easily compartmentalize the wounds—that is to say, close them up by growing bark over them—before any decay occurs.”

—

The Hidden Life of Trees: What They Feel, How They Communicate—Discoveries from a Secret World

Peter Wohlleben