Night After Night

I've been up frittering away the hours of darkness on my computer while those around me sleep fairly restfully. I'm in such envy of it. After a week of self inflicted night shifts operating in my own lonely hell, I feel alienated and cheated.

I just despise the dreams that come when my head finally hits the pillow, after I pop a pill hoping my madness will go away. It's taken as though it will cure my ill. But it doesn't.

So far the outlooks is dim and night has just begun. But I'll hope for hopes sake. To nod off soundly and wake to a day without the fuzzy edges and blurry thoughts that the medicine creates. That tomorrow evening I'll be much more like everybody else and not here again complaining to myself.

I read a blog entry from Matthew Good and he says it better than I ever could.

Goldilocks And The Hero Pappa Bear

Last night I refused to fall asleep. At least until my brain stopped nattering on and on in the background. When I finally went to bed it was 6AM and even then I had to take something to do so.

Well, this afternoon I woke up with a jolt to banging on the back door, a bit frightened by it's urgency I went to answer. If I wasn't familiar with my neighboring Father's abrasive manner I would have been more hesitant. That's Confusing, giving the nature of the visit.

While still in a groggy state he began his rant while I stood stunned, as always, making him more agitated. When I finally got a word in to tell him to back up and start over I was able to make sense of the cussing.

While in his own yard he'd noticed a man in our backyard left both gates wide open, which is problematic seeing the dogs would take leave if left out. Another neighbor noticed how creepy he was acting and leering about. When he confronted this unknown individual - this vagrant had taken our bags of bottles to his stereotypical shopping cart. Fine and dandy but they were in our fenced yard, out of view! A no go zone, if you will. After the intruder lied and said we told him to take them my Dad gave him an earful of 'what for', sending him on his way.

All this while I lay napping! I'm Grateful that my door wasn't open per usual during this strangers investigation of the premises. My space felt threatened and I'm thankful for once that my pops was nosy and overbearing.

Did I say "its ever so nice having a Daddy nearby to chase the oh scary things away"?

Lemonade and Epitaphs

It's a perfectly sunny day that insists on being enjoyed. Since it's already September and fall is on the horizon, it best not go to waste. Gotta do the outdoorsy thing while you can. Time for a cool drink with a shovel in hand, as I myself have some grave raiding to do. Allow me a moment while I attempt to unearth this tale for you...

Our front yard has attained a few new features this summer. Each year we like to add to our landscaping extraveganza. Amongst the new trees and bushes, butterfly garden, greenery and ornamental grasses, we decided our lawn deserved something special. Nothing like we planned, but I guess it does have an air of tranquility and mystery. After all, nothing says country cottage better than a pile of rocky dirt, reminecent of a traditional looking homestyle grave, now does it? OK, maybe it is missing a body BUT its still an eyefull none the less. Heck, I'm still raving about it, aren't I?

What began with such a simple idea for a rock garden, meant to fill an awkward dent in our lawn, turned into a human sized wreck over the course of the summer. Recycling old sod remnants (that I suppose could represent the deceased) to try and fill the un-level lawn might not have been the best idea. It ended up looking more mound-like than anticipated. Adding the mini boulders kept it rustic but didn't explain the perpose of our project as much as they should have. Worst was realizing it had become a massive ant hill, and being evicted by the new tempermental residents. My planting ended in an early retreat. So instead of a succulent oasis, we now have a creepy looking marker for those strolling past our home.

Needless to say, the neighbours haven't said anything about our latest attempt at curb appeal, though I'm sure the odd wondering dog likes to pay it's respect. I however, have yet to make any peace with it.

Cheddar is better

So starts a slump day following a tumultuous night.
My throat feels like I swallowed a giant sized panda, which is hard to bear I'd say (not sure where that pun came from).

Up too late with little sleep and too much cheese, my dreams were so very frightening! I closed my eyes to spy the treachery brought on by pink wailing babes, hell bent on murdering their newborn kin. I doubt horror writers could conceive such terrible things. I'll quote myself saying "...some people are born evil" for why I witnessed such disturbing nocturnal events. These imaginings lead me to believe Swiss cheese may perhaps be the work of the devil, or at least a midnight snacking of regret. I dare say.