So. I hear you asking, “What has taken over Beweaver??” She is running wild. And tis true. And while in some ways it’s awesome, in other ways it’s a bit uncomfortable. And I’ve found myself thinking the last few days that there must be a way to harness all this sexual energy that has no real fun place to go and use it for something…

Every night when I get home I’m driven to create. I’m busy from the moment I walk in the door until my head hits the pillow.

Last night was metalwork. I began cutting out the elements for some of my metal pieces that will be either incorporated into a textile piece of some kind or stand on their own as gifts. Lots of sawing. up down up down in out in out, er… Sorry…

Freaked the cat out, all that frantic sawing. She hid in the bedroom all evening. Nuf said.

Picked up the Wheel of the Year project and am working hard (she said hard) on finishing Imbolg with Mabon in the queue. Have a new cloth for the mantle, lovely butter yellow linen with green running stitches. At some point it will have vines on it length wise but for now I need it on the mantle more than in my hands.

I lay in bed knowing that my lover is on his way but feeling impatient…

Tonight I have my regular home group meeting and food afterwards.

The entire weekend is taken up with the effort of finally weeding my garden. I think THAT is a wonderful outlet for all my repressed sexual drives. I should be good and tired after all that I must do. This weekend is the back two beds (she said beds… hurhur) and next week the front bed (again). Lots to do there. This is the first year that my garden feels fertile to me. The soil sucks (she said suck), top of the hill, nothing but glacial slag, dried out soil full of rocks and nothing to hold the moisture, in general but the beds are slowly getting healthy. Worms (she said worms) abound and that is a very good sign.

As soon as the beds are ready I get to go shopping with me mum at our favorite nursery, Swanson’s. We agreed that we would put off the celebration of Mother’s Day until the beds are ready and then make the trek to Swanson’s for our annual mother/daughter shindig.

I have a little round garden like this waiting patiently to receive the TLC I can’t give elsewhere at the moment.