Mab of Dream

I tend to read through the Grovers' blogs at least once a week, but recently it's been nearly every day. Whether I read the lot or not, I do try to read Georgia's regularly. I don't like to keep pestering her with 'what's happening now? How you feeling now?' type e-mails, because she doesn't like folk making a fuss.

She has dates for her divorce now and I should imagine the time between now and then will be like living in limbo. It's not fair for her, because she truly is one of the best people I've ever met and I'm proud to call her a friend. I hate to think of her hurting.

I'm in a funny mood, because I've just typed up chapter seven of 'Priestess'. I don't think I knew about the I Ching back then, either when the story is set nor when I was writing it, but there's a mostly submerged 'and the seventh brings' return in this chapter. Simply because if anything was the crossroads between drugs and madness on the one hand or flying from the ashes, Phoenix-like on the other, then that night recounted in this chapter was it. I didn't realize before.

Reading back, I had forgotten that night, but it looks like I wrote the dialogue practically word for word. I was remembering it being said as I was typing it. I'm glad I wrote 'Priestess' now, when I did, because I've forgotten half the things that made me as I am now. 'Sarah' had to do what she did, because I wouldn't have half shattered the way I did and brought the safety net out in 'Lainie'. Without that destruction and ultimately that safety, I probably would have stayed in that limbo, where everyone had to walk on egg shells around me.

Thinking of the limbo is what struck me hard when I read Georgia's blog. I wish I was over there to make her a cuppa and go and see her fish with her. I feel hiraeth for a wench I've never met in the flesh and for a place I've never been. I'm well aware that I'm projecting a bit, but perhaps I'm not too far off the mark.

Georgia, if you're reading this...

... there aren't the words, are there? But I hope I get to watch you fly when those ashes have finally finished gathering.

Respect to you, Lady.

yours
Mab
xxxxx