Sunday, May 6, 2007

Oh, my. Crow on the menu again?

In re: Sactuary, emc2 (sorry, I don't know how to make the 2 a superscript), Max and Jennifer and the whole energy pattern/frequency adjustment/bad frequency elimination deal. If you don't know what I'm talking about, my unfortunate rant is the April 24th entry, below.

I may have spoken too soon. (Gee, like that's never happened before, right?)

John sent off his money along with his photo, and a local (within 200 miles, which is local around these parts) representative called him to answer questions and generally act as go-between. She said he'd be "on the tray" - which our over-taxed brains have begun referring to as "sleeping with the dishes" - in a few days and feeling the effects anywhere from immediately to within a few weeks.

Immediately it is. Not better, at first, but a weird constellation of effects including odd skin sensations, leg restlessness, "spaciness" and other ill-defined mental states. Then, other things began happening. He woke up yesterday morning and noticed that the nasty toenail infection he's had forever (and not been able to treat because of his liver issues) is gone. And his hands: the last year or so he's had real trouble with the ...I don't know what it's called - that big area of the hand right below the thumb, over to mid-palm. It's been very swollen and painful - the doctors said it's a combination of carpal tunnel syndrome, arthritis and general overuse. The swelling is gone. The pain is gone. The mobility and dexterity have returned. And it's just the first week.

It'll be really damned interesting to see what happens. Back pain. Liver. Who knows what else. Am I converted? Not.....necessarily. Not yet, anyway. But I do apologize for that quick judgment, that eye roll, that immediate cynicism that precludes this sort of experience.

So read the book. (Katrina - I ordered one for you - it's coming.) See what you think. I'll keep you posted.

A couple other notes:

On my unfortunate tendency to a life capsulized by the phrase "You can't make me!", it was recently pointed out to me that it's at least partly genetic. My ancestors weren't just Scottish, they were Highlanders. Island Highlanders, to be exact, and "you can't make me!" is their birthright and motto, right after "vincere vel mori" ("conquer or die.") Those same guys who painted themselves blue and spent the long Highland winters figuring out how to pick off the Vikings. Bonnie Prince Charlie. Sheep and rocks and truly bad weather. Fierce individuals for whom cooperation is largely associated with weakness. Yep, those are my people. Slainte.

On my recent lack of availability and communication, I offer the following as partial explanation (as distinct from excuse, for which there is none.) Between April 19th and now, I have driven far enough to be across the country and halfway back - four round trips to Geneseo, a trip to see my mother in Philadelhia, a concert in NJ, and a conference in Toronto (a Landmark Forum - we'll cover that another day, because there is Just So Much to talk about with that one.) I'm exhausted - beyond exhausted, really - and have been put through several emotional ringers, topped off with an immediate full body plunge into twelve-hour work days, May being the gardener's equivalent of Fashion Week. I think of you, I do, and I'll be back, sane and whole, god/dess willing, in reasonably short order. All we have to get through first is the Mother's Day Plant Sale, the Herb and Flower Festival, and a few hundred gardens and plantings and clean-ups and designs and ... somebody better do a general clean-up on the house or there won't be any sanctuary at day's end.

Which brings us back to Sanctuary. Maybe, if I order the Family Plan, it can cure me of my lack of energy, perpetual low-grade sinus infection, inner ear dizziness thing and sore feet. Stay tuned.