Day of the Cracking Skull 
I stuck that mood ring finger watch on her thigh.  She is borg techno babe now. 

13 Apr 8:43 pm 
The Huz is making hot dogs on the grill.  Since the time change, everything has been happening later, so supper still is not served even though its past bedtime.  Trying to get in a few minutes to write, since I didn't take the time for this past couple days. 
    Keeps took a beating yesterday.  After church, at which the boys got to participate in a milder, age-segregated egg hunt, the spouse tied out the dogs and went to get gas for the mower, during which time Keeps dug in the flower bed.  I didn't know this, was up here in the bedroom/office, doing something dreadfully important but I forget what. 

10:07 pm 
It took an hour and fifteen minutes for him to get the dogs cooked, for some reason.  I made sandwiches of them and fed the kids, though it was so late they were more tired than hungry, so they actually ate very little. 
    So, anyway, about the dog, I was on the computer and head this wham! wham! wham! wham!  It sounded as though the little fence thing attached to our quarters were being knocked down.  There was the Huz, beating the dog.  Behind him, on the street, was a red van, whose driver was watching this very carefully. 
    I was on my way down the stairs when the spouse called me to help him.  The van was gone, and the dog was chained very tightly to the clothesline pole, his cheek against the metal.  There was a hole in the flower bed, and I was expected to help fill in the hole, which I did easily, there wasn't that much dirt displaced.  He had not noticed the red van, and took my comment about it as an attack.  I hate this shit.  I hate my dog being beaten and I hate having to tiptoe around it so that I don't get attacked. 
    This morning greeted me with a hugenormous headache.  I hadn't been up all that late last night, hadn't drunk, like the night before.  Not sure if it was dehydration, poor eating habits or maybe a migraine that onset while I was still sleeping and therefore didn't notice early symptoms.  The more I moved, the more it hurt.  Getting the boys dressed and out the door was agony.  Hauling the wagon over the hill to Twink's house was actually refreshing, despite the brightness of the sun.  The air was really good, was actually nourishing. I still have the headache, though, it never left me. 
    Twinkle greeted me with sympathy; I had called ahead to tell her we would be late, and why.  Otherwise she was cheerful.  I like to see her smile.  Her life is even more hectic than mine, due to reasons I can't really reveal without utterly shattering her privacy, but they make it necessary for her to cook lunch and supper in the morning for a reheat at the proper mealtime.  So, when I drop off the kiddos, there is often a good smell there to greet me. 
    Much of the day was wasted, thanks to the debilitating pain and a power failure. 
    I have a good friend far away whom I've only mentioned twice, though he is very dear to me.  I tell him the reason for this is that I care about him so much that I want him all for myself, but that is only half true.  The rest of the story is that I never wanted to say or do anything that might embarrass him or make him uncomfortable.  And if I get to talking about him in here, I will gush, for he has been one friend who has stuck by me through every manner of ups and downs, both mine and his.  We both have a tendency toward the bottle in times of hardship, and we are both tough-natured yet tender-hearted.  So we both get hurt.  And we both need comfort during those times of pain. 
    When I first mention him to other very close friends or lovers, I usually say, "This is my friend to whom I am very close and for whom I have the greatest respect, for he is one of the very, very few men who have ever said no to me."  Those who know me well often laugh at this, for my powers of persuasion are well known.  I usually pass off this rejection of my advances as extremely good taste on the part of my friend, but he assures me that I am extremely desirable, however our friendship is such a treasure to him that he doesn't want to jeopardize it for the want of a fling.  I can respect that.  We are also alike in that we have many, many "light" friends, just a bit closer than acquaintances, but very few truly close friends.  This makes our friendship extremely valuable to both of us.  I get the feeling that he is wiser than me to not wish our relationship to cross a line that in the past, for me, has been a quite permeable barrier. 
    Maybe it's time to pull back a little.  I'm walking on the edge of that cliff.  Falling off would be a bad thing, right now.  I think.  No, I know.  It's a bad time, my life is complex; we are both vulnerable.  Everything is in transition. 
    He brings me much joy, and comfort.  For that I am glad, and grateful.  He is a truly beautiful being and doesn't know it. 
    See, I did gush, after all.