Thoughts,vague ideas and pleasant tangents.

Mariehart11 wrote:
Unfortunately it put me off because she knew from the  beginning and I thought, well that's not me. It silly in retrospect, but I was a child in an unforgiving world.

I desperately wanted to be a  girl but I didn't fit with perception of the times.

I was 13 years old, I knew without knowing and only really accepted it in my forties.

Yes, I get that. Add to it that, due to 'what everyone knows', I thought transgender (or transsexual, as they called it at the time) just meant extra super gay, and I knew that couldn't be me, because I was attracted to girls. Only figured out that was wrong in my forties, thanks to the Web.

It turns out that 'what everyone knows' is often nonsense. And I am still primarily attracted to women, and know that trans lesbian is really a thing.

Mariehart11 wrote:
My tulips are resplendent. I'm cleaning up the garden. I gave up on the lawn and  have let it go wild. I planted lots of wild  flowers. The  butterflies have arrived. I saw one with orange wing tips. Never saw them before. I googled orange wing tip butterflies. Turns out they're  called, wait for it: Orange tip butterflies. Imagination failure there. Apparently they're very local and woodland. Love them.

Last night I went outside and watched the bats flitting about just  after dark. Totally silent. As I  mentioned before my garden backs on to a small, very  small piece of woodland. But it's  full of life.

It's so nice. There's a  Chaffinch, clearly he's dominant in my garden. So he sings very  loudly to broadcast his territory, unfortunately he managed to drown out my TV when the  back door is open. Nature wins. He visits my bird feeder but seems irritated by the blue tits who  flit and out.

My tulips are past their prime, but still lovely. The petals of the blossoms from the ornamental cherry are falling like pink snow, and the maple is sending thousands, perhaps millions, of little helicopter seeds everywhere.

We too have a small bit of woods behind our back garden (or backyard, as we Americans like to put it), and it's alive with birds, squirrels, and other small wildlife. It's lovely to sit on the deck and listen. I especially enjoy the cardinals and wrens.

The first day of May was our first taste of Summer. It was warm and sunny, unfortunately far too much of it was spent stuck in traffic in a hot car. my wife had air conditioned car.

 Driving through the city, it was obvious the tourists have arrived in force probably wondering where the famous Irish rain was hiding. Sadly, they found out today, wet, cold and miserable. I had to turn on the heating this afternoon.

None of this is helping my morale, which is very low at the moment. But summer has arrived and hopefully it picks up again.

I could do with a holiday but it won't happen until July. We're renting a cottage up in Donegal. Donegal is a very scenic county, we were there previously.

Actually I had a reminder of it watching a new Netflix movie starring Liam Neeson called The land of saints and sinners. It was made in Donegal and I spent the movie recognising locations and villages. It's worth a watch by the way. Liam Neeson has a bit of a rep for 'Taken'  like movies but he's on home ground  here and it shows.

It's essentially a classic Western. A gunman who is friends with the local sheriff. He want to hang up his gun but some  bad guys turn up in town and there's an inevitable shoot out. But all set in 1970s Donegal. Neeson finally gets to act in his own accent. Some of the best Irish actors around get to showcase their talents. It's great fun actually.

I was hoping to do some more work in the garden to get it summer ready not today.

Well that's it for now. Have to collect the eldest from school. The younger one is at home with a nasty cold. Time was, you'd go to school anyway but post covid no one wants someone coughing and snuffling around others.

Bye for now.

Edit: I had to edit a lot of this post. So many errors. I posted mid afternoon so no  excuses. I worry about myself sometimes

Also I  got some good  news tonight. My eldest niece is getting married next year. The reception will be in a fabulous old mansion previously owned by someone big in the 19th century, in County Wicklow the 'garden of Ireland" . We married in County Wicklow too. A beautiful little Chapel in a valley by a river. Then the reception in a country hotel in Glendalough just by a perfect little lake. Super romantic.

Clearly my niece is of the same idea. It should be a fun event if my experience of our family weddings is any indication.

Big weddings are our thing. I was telling my eldest son about his cousin when I realised he'll be old enough to to drink alcohol. We laughed but he promised not to go crazy. BTW it's 18 here. He's 17 but he told me that he has no intention of drinking until he's 18. Clearly he's just like his Mother, rather serious and sensible. In fact I told him not to bother at all. I never really indulged in alcohol until I hit my forties. That came because I realised my career illusions had failed and I couldn't ignore and suppress who I was anymore.

He won't have that issue. Thank goodness.

Having said that I still can't progress. Even last night I dreamt the theme. I met trans women in the dream but couldn't tell them I am one of them.

Dreams mess with my head

Marie, your springtime weather sounds like ours.  After teasing with soft sunshine and temps in the mid 20’s C in mid April, we have been mired in successive waves of cold wet and windy low pressure systems originating in the gulf of Alaska.  Usually we miss most of those because they make landfall far enough north that they slide along the eastern edge of the Rockies.  For whatever reason, this year they’ve been coming ashore farther south in the Washington and Oregon coasts.  Cold wet and windy is my least liked type of weather.

I’ve been keeping myself occupied by baking bread and finally I’m seeing loaves that I envisioned when I first started baking.  This is today’s loaf.  It’s a 500 gm, 25% rye, 75% white wheat flour recipe.

Beautiful, Liz! Now I'm hungry for fresh baked bread. Marie, I've been there with the dreams.

It's been sunny and in the low 30s C here; record breaking heat. Ugh!

On the other hand, I've a half marathon race Sunday morning, and the forecast is 20° and heavy rain. Oh joy. It'll be a splashy Cinco de Mayo.

I think it was six years ago, in this same race, that just before the start, as I was standing there with about four-thousand of my closest friends, the heavens opened up in a heavy deluge for about ten minutes. As it eased up into a mere steady rain, the started said "Go!" It was quite funny to watch people who were quite thoroughly soaked carefully trying to avoid large puddles in the street. I thought that I couldn't possibly get any wetter, and went straight through them.

That race has become legendary in the local running community, and now it's looking as if it could be a repeat. Fortunately, my skin is waterproof.

Very nice bread, Liz. I'm no baker, but maybe I should try it now. My wife usually does the baking but she's avoiding bread at the moment.

Good luck with the race Tara. It is in fact a beautiful May day here. The birds are in full voice. I sat outside to eat my brunch only to joined by a cheeky Robin who landed on the table looked me in my eye and at the crusts of bread. I took the hint and left them for her. I've had a Robin join me on the sofa inside the house. They are so tame.

I watched 'The Devil wears Prada' again last night and it caused full on dysphoria. If only! I had a dose earlier when my wife and I walked over to the shopping centre to check out a new armchair, a swivelling armchair. But first we spent a happy few minutes in Carrig Donn checking out summer dresses and skirts, trying on a few. I didn't try any of them on, obviously

It's near enough my perfect shopping day, clothes, furniture and comparing cushions. If that wasn't enough to wake up my dysphoria, my Amazon app recommended a black cocktail dress made by the same company as my pink dress. It's lovely but I've never been invited to a cocktail party. So I'll pass.

In fact I've been thinking of having a clear out. Most of my clothes go unworn and transitioning is more unlikely than ever.

No amount of 'manifesting' is going to make it happen.

Oh well.

European and North American robins are, as you know, very different animals! Different genera, even. I suppose the early European explorers saw the reddish breasts, and said "robin red breast!"

I cannot imagine the rather feisty, carnivorous American thrush of that name asking for bread crusts. Worms, certainly.

Probably, but they're definitely feisty like their American cousins. Very territorial too. I listened to a verbal battle between two of them the other day. My Robin and the neighbouring one. It was fascinating. One would sing it's song and wait for the reply. Really lovely.

There's also a Chaffinch who sings very loudly and is clearly a rival to another nearby Chaffinch.

I'm enjoying the interaction. It's really nice.