Impotence- no not that type.

This is just before I get wound up for my RANT for the day!!


Here is my sweet Honey, just sitting behind me, keeping me safe.







And here is Leo, just waiting to peep into my sewing bag. I made it to take to those disastrous quilting lessons.
It was very grudginly admired.
Another lady asked if I would make some to sell. I felt quite flattered.
I made one for DJ too, in fabrics of her choice.








And now on to the Impotence.


Not a physical impotence.


A mental impotence, which leads to damaging, useless rage, which in turn ends in sadness, & other damaging emotions.

What do you do when faced with that type of emotion?
Do you fight back?
Do you take action to redress things- dont get mad, get even?

Someone I love dearly gets constantly damaged by someone they love. I watch this with impotence, because there is nothing I can do.

But I find I wish I had some physical release from the anger I feel. I want to run out & SMASH something. I dont act upon the urge of course.

And I think that pin-sticking an effigy just might work... so I dont resort to that either. And I feel guilty wishing harm upon the person inflicting the harm. I feel as if those thoughts will come back & slap me in the 'life'.

So, do I act, or in this case, not act, out of goodness, doing the 'right thing', fear, or superstition for the consequences? I am not sure.


What do you do for your 'displacement' activity?

I am not sure what I do. I have so many 'displacement' activities. Perhaps now, blogging has become one.

There are times when people just piss me off so badly I wish I was an author so I could write about them, & get my revenge! Maybe that is why I am not....

When GOM gets seriously out of sorts over something he usually does what we in the family refer to as "Eating worms". He goes & sits quietly in an old clapped out chair in the garage, & sulks- ie eats worms. Or he 'cleans out his drawers'. Always know he is feeling very low, if he does that.

One of my sons worries himself almost ill over the state of the world. He beats himself up about things he has no power to change. He has various displacement tactics. He reads a lot.

Another of my sons, who has suffered serious brain damage, is now so 're-patterned' in his thinking, he seems to think in cliches... patterns which he once would have scorned. I was not present for his rehabilitation processes. I am just glad he is alive, & can still think. He is altered forever, but still retains certain personality traits he always had. His survival techniques led him into dark caves & treacherous reefs. He almost could be said to have not survived.

Perhaps one of my survival ploys is to retreat into the past too often.

Not always to the dark shoals & pools. Sometimes my reveries are filled with the sun & laughter. The bright fields of gold, from my childhood.

The friends who walked beside me. My family, who love warts, black moods, depressions, & holes in my thinking... all keep me afloat.

My mother told me I was a very strange child, given to sudden tantrums for no apparent reason. Perhaps the black dog dogged me from birth....



The sun has burnt away the thick fog from the morning- again. We have been getting heavy, thick fogs for the past 4 days. The heavy humid nights weigh me down. I toss & turn, unable to sleep. Perhaps with the sun shining today, I will lighten up!