7
Most of the day was sunny. But it began storming an hour or so ago. I think it's about over now. Our high was 92˚F, with a heat index of 100˚F.
Not much I want to say about today. I'm trying.
The 27th anniversary of Elizabeth's suicide was August 3rd, and I forgot it until a day or two had passed. And I've been fighting guilt ever since. Is this what we do? Is this just life? The deaths and pain of those we love grows more and more distant in time and we just "heal" and "move on"? Me, I think that's bullshit. But whatever. The 9th is the day I learned of her death, because I was in New Orleans at the time, and her suicide was kept secret from me. So, I have always had two days to mark for her death. At least I will not forget the 9th, but that does not release me from the guilt at having allowed the 3rd to slip past me.
I'm going to try write two vignettes for Sirenia Digest #200. It needs to feel special to me. I mean, two-hundred issues since November 2005. And it has saved mine and Kathryn's butts again and again.
Today I shell out over $70 for the silicone I need to mold those mosasaur tooth, and I still need to buy the polyurethane for the casting. And this comes out of my very shallow pockets. Like many paleontologists, even those, who, like me, are lucky enough to be affiliated with museums and academia, still wind up footing the bill for much of their research. More and more are turning to crowd-sourcing. And I may do have a small GoFundMe drive to cover the cost of molding and casting this specimen. Say $250. It would not be such an issue, but we are not flush right now, and we're about to have to pay taxes. If the paper if published, I'd list the names of all the contributor's in the acknowledgements. Or...you can go to the Big Cartel shop and buy, say, a copy of the limited edition Comes a Pale Rider, which comes the hardback Refugees chapbook, and I'll still put you in the acknowledgements.
Honestly, I don't know what's keeping me going right now.
Later Tater Beans,
Aunt Beast
3:42 p.m.
Not much I want to say about today. I'm trying.
The 27th anniversary of Elizabeth's suicide was August 3rd, and I forgot it until a day or two had passed. And I've been fighting guilt ever since. Is this what we do? Is this just life? The deaths and pain of those we love grows more and more distant in time and we just "heal" and "move on"? Me, I think that's bullshit. But whatever. The 9th is the day I learned of her death, because I was in New Orleans at the time, and her suicide was kept secret from me. So, I have always had two days to mark for her death. At least I will not forget the 9th, but that does not release me from the guilt at having allowed the 3rd to slip past me.
I'm going to try write two vignettes for Sirenia Digest #200. It needs to feel special to me. I mean, two-hundred issues since November 2005. And it has saved mine and Kathryn's butts again and again.
Today I shell out over $70 for the silicone I need to mold those mosasaur tooth, and I still need to buy the polyurethane for the casting. And this comes out of my very shallow pockets. Like many paleontologists, even those, who, like me, are lucky enough to be affiliated with museums and academia, still wind up footing the bill for much of their research. More and more are turning to crowd-sourcing. And I may do have a small GoFundMe drive to cover the cost of molding and casting this specimen. Say $250. It would not be such an issue, but we are not flush right now, and we're about to have to pay taxes. If the paper if published, I'd list the names of all the contributor's in the acknowledgements. Or...you can go to the Big Cartel shop and buy, say, a copy of the limited edition Comes a Pale Rider, which comes the hardback Refugees chapbook, and I'll still put you in the acknowledgements.
Honestly, I don't know what's keeping me going right now.
Later Tater Beans,
Aunt Beast
3:42 p.m.