Chemo Tastes Yummy with Chocolate Spiders, Groovy Frida, and Some Slightly Dark Planning

Fine, so this title might be drunk on fallacious wishful thinking (nothing makes chemotherapy infusions taste yummy) but… taking Groovy Frida with me will certainly make the experience better. The same would have probably been true of a luscious chunk of chocolate (that tried to escape my bite by pretending to be a spider), if I hadn’t already eaten it.

This camouflaged whining or acknowledgement of the fact that chemo meds taste like something has gone terribly wrong in your mouth is not meant to imply that nothing makes the chemo experience less disgusting. I’m just saying that I fight yuck with yum. Yep, I spend the whole time (my body is being poisoned back to health) sipping coffee… and snacking on frozen mango, baked corn chips, yogurt with roasted nuts on top… and yes, drinking enough water to house a very small galaxy of tiny sharks.

Also, I always go to long appointments with a project I enjoy completing. This week, I will write something for Friday Fictioneers (maybe add a bit to “Cages Can Kill”. There will also be editing, blackout supplies, and… of course, a delightful book or three to read (or to listen to, if my vision starts to get blurry). Then again, there is the chance that I will never get to any of these things, since my sweet Boy is coming with me… and not running our mouths is not one of our superpowers (thank goodness for that!).

the now gone spidery chocolate I spoke of, a mushroom sculpture, a batty-book pin, and a copy of Ghosts of Christmas Past, edited by Tim Martin.
(I can’t wait to share Neil Gaiman’s contribution with you! Soon…)
from Winter Moon Books

my Groovy Frida has been moving around the house, looking for a spot to call home. I think the Crow is whispering sweet nothings in her ear, saying, “Stay here forevermore”.  Yep, he really wants that shiny skull.
from Groovy Gothic

if you know The Insomniac, you will probably be as shocked as I was to find out that she completed her 2019 Slightly Darker Monthly Planner early. Nope, she is not possessed by the ghost of crafty past. I checked. She’s probably just trying to impress her gorgeous baby granddaughter.
from the Insomniac’s Attic (you can print your own copy here)

Yvonne, Emma, Lynne, thank you for the gifts (and for the company).
Thank you all for helping me battle the yuck with yum.
🖤🖤🖤

 

What about you, my Wicked Luvs,
how do you battle the yuck life throws your way?

 

Blade and Poison, Hammer and Shield

The dark that makes me stagger has little to do with the night. You know this, and the shine of your knowing suns away chills threatening to lair in dying pieces of me I can’t banish… alone. Menace rotting its way through my flesh won’t be defeated without blade and poison, without well fed grins, without you understanding… me. You, my sword and hammer, my compass and shield… when the unknown threatens my breathing, when bad blood blinds my dreaming, I feel your eyes, hear your lips telling me, “I’ll always be here”, lessening the worst, fighting all fright… with you.

through thickest darkness,
the soul sees her truest loves
offering a hand

 

a wee note…
– frankensteined from 2 poem bits I published on Instagram. The senryū originally read “friends” instead of “loves”. Linking it to the Imaginary Garden with Real Toads

and here is some of the inspiration

my Piano Man and I spent last Sunday at Terrificon. After a week dedicated to pre-mastectomy arrangements, spending a whole day doing something I love doing, and doing it with someone I love doing… um, is awesome. And, of course, the bookish loot is nothing to frown at *wild giggles*

 

my beloved Mistress Emma, creatrix of Groovy Gothic yumminess, sent me a copy of Drawlloween 2017, by Mizna Wada. I’ve told myself that I will save it for some Halloween flash fictioning, but… that might be a laughable fib. I mean, really

 

a bit busy? I know, I know but… you see, the “Witchy Woman” copper bracelet and the skully earrings I received from Phillip, The Traveling Poet, look so happy hanging from my thorny bouquet that… I couldn’t get myself to remove them from their I’m-not-wearing-them-now-home to photograph them for you

 

Gina, my Daydream Believer (feeling a tad possessive *cough*) sent me an INK box. It’s full of bits for cleansing and banishing and growing and loving and dreaming and dancing and… I might show some of it to you one of these days, but not today

 

my Rhissanna (yep, possessive *not even coughing*) sent me a LOVE bunny. The bunny delivered several wee bags for me (and one for AlmaMia Cienfuegos, I can’t show you that one because the wild girl insists on blogging about it herself in the future… I don’t argue with girls who throw rocks so accurately) and a spoon

 

my sweetest and dearest Stacy, wild goddess of Magic Love Crow, surprised me with a notebook and a tote made extra majestic by her art. I have so much to say about these two gifts that… I will have to write another post to explain it all

 

this one doesn’t belong to me, but… I had to share it. I just wanted to avoid any future disappointment to anyone who might’ve been wishing to claim Batman’s crotch (or, perhaps, his tights), someone at Terrificon claimed it all *sigh*

 

thank you, Emma, Phillip, Gina, Rhissanna, Stacy… for the gifts… for the intent… for the love… I cherish all of it. I also wish to thank those of you who have reached out with soothing words, with understanding words, with a seemingly simple “I am here… thinking of you… hoping for you… making no demands… just letting you know that I’ll always be here” (your loving creepiness completes me). And you, my Wicked Luvs, who always stop by this blog or Instagram or Facebook… to read my life-fed-words, I hope I never fail to let you see that you keep my ink going while I trek through darkness that has little to do with the night. You rocketh very mucho