Not Knot

Who’s there?

Me

Me who?

That’s right!

Do you remember that Shel Silverstein poem about the Mehoo?

I know that the image is difficult to read. If you click on the link you’ll see some of his work. If I add an audio to this blog, I’ll read it for you. Anywho, I like the door image and I like the poem. I do not know Mr Silverstein and he is dead so I will never know him, other than what I imagine him to be through his work. He must have been funny and enjoyed loose clothing so that he could belly laugh a lot, n’est-ce pas? If you have read anything about him which does not match this description, kindly keep it to yourself and permit me to have this image of him, please and thank you and bless you and may the force be with you, this is the way.

The barn-ish door is also lovely. I would very much like to be worthy of having a barn door. I’m not. However, every week at riding lessons I have an opportunity to open the big real-life barn door to the indoor arena as the riders walk their sweet horses up to the indoor ring. It is gigantically huge, heavy, metal, and sometimes stuck in squishy squashy mud. I find it a personal win when I can open and close the door on my own. It’s the little things. Truly. This and my imagination are all I have. Well, that is a lie – SonHerisme is here too xo and I do have some irl friends (it’s true!).

I also have my hair. A lot of hair. It’s fine, but there is a lot of it and it is primarily unruly with tangles. I gave up on it years ago and now mostly tie it in knots on top of my head. It’s so weirdly straight/curly/wavy/red/brown/blonde/now some white/gray that I do not need any hair-ties or pins. I wind the hair around and around and tie it onto itself giving the appearance of intention, which is instead more laissez faire- ish function. Rare hair trims outside of me diy youtubing it, because I cannot be bothered with fixing it just so, using product/tools, or even brushing it. Unfortunately it is also quite tangley and I am tender-headed, so I try to brush it out at least every-other day, but it is a time and arm/shoulder/neck muscles commitment. I’m afraid to like it too much because then it will surely fall out or change texture or color in a way that makes me hate it. It’s my trauma showing again – ta daaa!

Why share?

1. I am trying to write regularly (again)

2. I am trying to break the spell of anytime I like something about myself it tends to implode

3. I need to be doing something creative

4. Perhaps you will feel less crazy and alone when you read my posts (and maybe giggle)

There’s always one friend in the friendgroup who appears nice enough, but slightly (or mostly?) odd. Then you find out their backstory and its all out cuckoo crazy cats to the point of unbelievable. Every time you see them there is always some new unlocked level of crazy swirling around them, and it is isn’t ever the OMG THAT is crazy AWESOME, crazy – it’s the holy shitballs wtf is she doing to attract all of that crap, crazy? (psst…. it’s me… boo!)

Once upon a pre-covid time, I was at a friend’s dinner party (very casual, very relaxed, very much a regular part of our friendgroup routine, very much always included piles of kids happily running around with sticks and mud and giggles – *sigh* I miss pre-covid and my sweet babe) – I was at a friend’s house with a merry mix of people I knew, people I sort-of knew, and people I did not know. Some of the adults gathered in the kitchen to enjoy adult beverages and conversation, when one of the women began talking about her brother re-entering online dating. As she was describing the “crazy women” he was meeting online, it hit me that I was the ONLY single person at this dinner party and my personal situation was even wackier than the women she was describing. I was/am the crazy. That shit that was sobering. I left the room and wandered with the kids outside for a bit (flashlight headbands in the woods y’all – it was glorious!), then did the koyc hug round and left.

Things that have changed since that dinner party

  1. My baby SonHerisme is now a giant
  2. MrexH is not within driving distance of us
  3. I am noticeably older (white curls peeking, lady fronts drooping, yo)
  4. COVID shut the everythings
  5. My personal boundaries are more firm
  6. I am mostly a Mehoo Pooh with frequent Eeyore rising and knots of hair on my head

How are you?

Love, Ms. Herisme xoxo

koyc = Kiss On Your Cheek (shamelessly lifted from an old entanglement)

ps. Like you, I continue to be horrified at the way we allow racism, white supremacy, and white male rage to go unchecked. Please check in with your neighbors. Fighting racism and violence is the responsibility of us all – especially those of us who ride the coattails of our whiteness. Please reach out, check in on your neighbors, and draw firm boundaries with racist behaviors. We are not okay without accountability.

2 thoughts on “Not Knot

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