sweet sweet love

[cimorene]

a few days ago wax, the dog and i went down to the tiny dam and rapids in the river aura, which is just about in our backyard.  or, well, our front yard.  anyway, perry had dragged me down some wooden steps to one of those 6" wide paths through shoulder-high wildflowers and grasses leading to the river, but stopped in the middle of the path to snack on some grass, as is his wont.  wax was still on the steps expositing.  i pointed at the dog. 

wax: he's eating timothy.
me: :doubletake: you've been down here a lot, i see--
wax: no, that's what the plant--
me:  you've named each individual weed. 
wax:  --is called.  it's a timothy plant--
me: c'mon, perry, let's go further down the path and see roger!

on reflection that may lose something in the retelling.  it was just, you know, that moment of exquisite surreality before she explained herself.

now tea, the bald and mentally unbalanced little bugger, is making sweet, sweet love to wax's extremely skanky sandals.  she's beside herself.  she also seems to have lost all touch with her surroundings and her dignity.  her little body's sort of twisted in half, her little paws in the air, as she head-butts the sandals and tries to rub her face all over every inch of leather.

also, i was unreasonably pleased this morning to be tagged by lm for a i don't know whether i'm actually a good choice for this because, um, i'm generally on the neurotic, not the relaxed side of the human spectrum.  however:

1.  mint or chamomile herb teas.  the former has stomach-soothing properties and the latter's a very mild tranquiliser.  i can't keep enough of it in the house--i'm always forgetting to buy it, but one or the other of those is pretty much my beverage of choice about three quarters of the time. 
2.  lying in the sun.  this only works when a sunbeam is falling on a good surface like the couch or the bed. 
3.  cheesy visualisations.  for instance, concentrating on individual spots on my body, relaxing muscle groups about the size of my hand, starting at the top of my head and working towards my feet.  or when i'm angry or otherwise obsessing unhealthily about something i imagine thoughts as black film covering my mind or body and then wipe or wash or scrub or drain it away.
4.  comfort books or movies.  the more upset or sick i am, the further back towards childhood i go.  (i have a copy of the sesame street film don't eat the pictures here in finland with me--but i haven't watched it since i arrived.)
5.  indulging my neurosis.  i have a tendency to OCD.  compulsive-type tasks can make me feel better, like sorting the contents of my desk drawer by size or the contents of my pencil cup by colour, or grooming my fingernails, or making icons.  i'm supposed to tag five more people for this.  hmm.  hollsk, irisbleu, perhael, aynatonal, strangelette.

Comments

[anglepoiselamp.livejournal.com]

Heeeeee. Your riverside adventure is too cute for words.

I had no idea timotei was actually called timothy in English. Incidentally I've been trying to translate that name for a while now, just because. It was one of those little things that keep bugging me because I don't know them. Like all those years I spent trying to figure out how exactly flies breathe.

[cimness.livejournal.com]

wax says she looked it up, so i guess it is. i don't go around learning the real names of weeds very often. if i pick one up it's by accident, and it's not very likely to stick, probably. i don't have a head for trivia.

[anglepoiselamp.livejournal.com]

I grew up in the countryside - it was essential to know which plants were edible, or poisonous, or stingy, and which weeds would cause the worst bouts of hayfever. Timothy, for instance. ;)

[cimness.livejournal.com]

oh noes, is timothy like a deadly weapon to you?

you'd better not come over just yet then, with the hay fever thing. wax picked a bouquet of wildflowers yesterday and the kittehs have hardly eaten up any of them yet.

but in other news i'm naming everything that is not a nuisance timothy. nuisances are bob or steve (like wasps--wasps are bob or steve). like wax's car is timothy and so is the giant exercise duffel that's lived on the walkway to our apartment halfway to the staircase for a few weeks. or rather, the human remains it no doubt contains are named timothy. (but don't worry--it doesn't smell.)

[anglepoiselamp.livejournal.com]

Well, they don't make hayfever like they used to. Or at least I haven't been getting as bloated from walking outside in summer as I used to.


the giant exercise duffel that's lived on the walkway to our apartment halfway to the staircase for a few weeks. or rather, the human remains it no doubt contains are named timothy.

O_O
*quotes* Alas, poor Timothy! I knew him, Horatio.

Naming things is fun. When I was a kid I named everything Väinö. I still have a wee plastic mammoth called Väinö to remind me of that. ()

[cimness.livejournal.com]

muutilda, perhaps! and mo'tilda, their vulcan cousin.

i always picked different names for everything, but there was a period where all my sister's dolls were named jesus when she was at that baptist daycare. also a period where they were all named something like "tulip flower ellen ariel violet".