The temperature - stifling here in the Music City today. Heat index soaring off the chart. Must have been at least 110, conservatively. The ever aching, convulsing & changing body of a pregnant woman does not welcome summer weather as anxiously as her fun-loving mind. Sun is father, but not friend. Air as subtle comfort in these moments. Turn that thermostat control way, waaayyy down. Please. In about 7 months all of this will be over. (No matter how much eye repeat this, it's hardly aiding my sick & tired frustration with this Hypermesis Gravidarum. Said to be rare, it has haunted me throughout every single pregnancy.
Consider these past couple weeks without my musings a US agricultural drought (the longest ever in blog history!) This mating season proved itself fruitful, yet as emotionally unproductive. Working some of those sick, "system" kinks out. It really is true that one does not come up in this society being well. Everyday in consciousness is a step closer to wellness. Writing=medication.
It is the marriage of the soul with Nature that makes the intellect fruitful, and gives birth to imagination.
-Henry David Thoreau
4 years ago