Hall of Mirrors

As the temperatures swing here, from uncomfortably warm (i had to stop the HVAC from cooling last night, despite it being welcome) to chill (no frost warning yet), i wonder if our average is... average? Probably not. The warm is far too warm.

The "king bloom" of the apple blossoms opened yesterday. The other apples seem quite behind: the shade of the pines makes a difference. Somehow the tree has pollinated in previous years: i hope the bees can make it work this year. Blue berry blossoms are opening and inviting bees as well. I should probably give hand pollination of the paw paw a try.

Yesterday's executive functioning went well, remarkable after a month of flailing a bit. I might be on the edge of figuring out something. I did realize my image of what rest looks like is remarkably dim and fuzzy. For Other People it is the lounge chair by the pool or the ocean. There wasn't much rest in my growing up: the morning coffee my parents shared with each other on the weekend inevitably exploded into an argument as they tried to plan what they were going to do that day, a weird lesson in intimacy, communication and, i realize, rest and doing. For me, i think of when i was really sick as a child and spent the time in bed with scissors and construction paper.

I'm suspicious i rested on Sunday, and it didn't look like rest at some angles. There were lists and check boxes and time boxes. On the other hand, there weren't any intentions that lasted longer than ten minutes or maybe twenty. There was laundry. (The air while filled with pollen is dry. The Bruno bed pads and rags dried so quickly!) There was acceptance i was tired from the physical labor on Saturday.