Does the verb 'to dement' exist? No matter Mrs. D will make it exist by simply throwing the word nonchalantly into every day use. Mrs. D stepped out of the plane today thinking I shall have to buy some flowers but why not challenge and perhaps even dement Dr. C's eyes again although actually she will have to buy some flowers soon as KB didn't take care of the flowers and one is in dire straits. The oh so reliable pinky rose what I got from UBC eons ago. That wasn't watered Mrs. D nods decisively and wonders secretly whether KB will ever be watered again - most probably not. Mrs. D rubs her eyes and back with a grimace and wonders how she managed to survive the long journey in economy seats and why there were no upgrades strewn around for the likes of her. Travel has become far too democratized for her liking even though the Indonesian couple seated by her were quite entertaining although they certainly had weak bladders and had to get out several times to go to the loo. Mrs. D had to speak in English, Bahasa Indon and Hokkien to Mr. Indon during the flight and learnt that he has a daughter in Surrey, that He and the Mrs. were going to Las Vegas, that they went to KL to eat quite a bit because it was cheap and they came to Vancouver several times a year. Other than that, the take-offs and landings were uneventful, the airports were crowded and Noah the movie was rubbish - bad movie, dumb dialogue, bad acting (except Emma Watson) and overwrought moral dilemmas. That is only Mrs. D's opinion however and you are welcome to your own. In any case she hailed the wrong hansom carriage, had to reserve a second one but not before having a lovely cooling pink lemonade from two little entrepreneurs on a lawn for it was a warm day that made Mrs. D glow almost like the grooms in her stables do. Summer reached out and touched Mrs. D's cheeks and she reached out a hand to touch back - Hopefully Summer will stay around for a bit and make what for. Then in a frenzy of activity to stay awake, Mrs. D laundered dead-headed watered, ran hither and thither, and pondered the poor return on investment that poor poor poor Anna has reaped for all her goodness. Raped! For no good reason except that she was gentle and nice enough to be polite to Mr. Green - bastard, nasty valet of Lord Gillingham - he'll get his comeuppance yet Mrs. D is convinced not that she's read any spoilers or anything like that...nuffink of the sort she just knows for Mrs. D has a finely tuned sense of justice and she knows that anyone who upsets Anna, poor ducks, will get what-for. Mrs. D thinks about the mysticism of 21 days or three weeks or a fortnight and a half that's a nice chunk of time wherein many things can happen and in some ways should be the minimum amount of time that everyone should have when going away because it takes a week to adjust to the local time and place then you need time to settle down and then a bit more time to adjust to going back whence you came. In 21 days the chances of you forgetting what you go abroad to forget is much higher although Mrs. D isn't really sure that this is going to work, but it is worth trying for the returns are poor although not quite as bad as Anna's returns. In any case, it's a theory worth testing out so there you are, Mrs. D is taking leave of absence for a while because the cause isn't the point, it's not being the point nor the cause that is the point if you see what Mrs. D is getting at. In any case Mrs. D is making a damn good attempt at agreements #2 and #3 which really could be merged into #2.5 but that's only Mrs. D trying to be efficient. Mrs. D sometimes wonders whether she'd be burnt at the stake if she lived in Salem, OR. Probably not, but you never can tell, beauty is as beauty is and it's all in the eyes of the beholder - a rose by any other name even if infested with aphids and spiders etc., etc., etc. Speaking of eyes, Mrs. D thinks it very sad that Dr. K has suddenly developed bilateral glaucoma because the drops have made the eye-lashes so thick, black and heavy that it's quite startling and quite detracted from the taste of the butter prawns encrusted in Nesquick. Be that as it may, Mrs. D can't take on anymore medical responsibilities - she just can't, poor duck. Mrs. D thinks of Melisa from the kampung and stifles a sigh because it's the first sign of things to come. However, there were conversations held between Mrs. D and various odds and sods and altogether and touch wood, all is well for the moment, and Melisa can continue coming on a biweekly basis for the time being as there is no especial urgency and may this continue for many a year to come. There will be more travel and one hopes different, upgraded, better, more luxurious travel classes, but that is not bad when all is said and done. The Summers, the angels and devils, the hunters they're all distractions but still serve to remind Mrs. D that the ocean is much wider than anybody can imagine. The wide blue horizons will help to Mrs. D remember that much can be forgotten in the forgiving mists that roll in from the Oceans and billow about. Mrs. D also remembers the theory of Brownian motion in which there is random movements that are generated by the quantum fidgeting of atoms and in her own inimitable way Mrs. D reduces this to mean that her mind is a-whirl but that the whirling will settle down much like two gases in separate chambers will mix to form one when the partition between is removed because Brownian motion does that. Mrs. D muses that Brownian motion is really a friend of entropy and entropy serves to remind us not to be obsessive compulsive and to also expect change and that change is good. Mrs. D feels anxious today and flowers are not likely to do much for her today because flowers wilt and they have and she needs to throw them out. Mrs. D is however smart enough to realize that anxieties are temporary - they are by their very nature and whether its the P-units, the changing flux of orbiting stars, the impulsiveness of Summers, or the vagaries of abstracts and papers, it will all come to pass in exactly the way Mrs. D would like. Mrs. D once spoke with Dr. R and said to him when he was still wet behind the ears that it didn't matter whether one adapted to the situation or whether the situation adapted to one, it all came to the same thing, and the then nascent Dr. R wrote this down - he actually did. Now though when Mrs. D thinks about it, she doesn't really think it means very much, and it doesn't either which is the whole point - you see, nothing makes sense however much we or Mrs. D wants it to. The long term doesn't matter either because one day we will all be as much dust as there was blowing out of Titanium's latest building site when the wind picks up. And once we are there, who is going to remember our drama, our anxieties, or worries - nobody that's who Mrs. D states emphatically. Nonetheless, after getting some IT support, Mrs. D is going reset her point of view. She must spend more time on her flowers, she must spend more time on her feet and arms, she must also spend more time on her writing, mind and breathing because in the end, this will help ease the anxieties and as Mrs. D well knows, nothing is as good as you hoped, nor is anything as bad as you fear and often the simple act of taking the first step makes you forget your anxieties. As for memories and sensitization Mrs. D is beginning to think that it's all piffle when she does an audit it becomes clear to her that any coincidence or significance is due to her expectations or wished for answers to her deep delusional states. Piffle. A mere wind-egg, poof! Now, if Mrs. D really wanted to dement Dr. C, she'd make the text smaller and grey, but she won't because it's time to move on to the next step which is to meander away and get through the upcoming days although she knows what hell she'll put herself through (no flowers except for lilies of the valley used in funeral wreaths) on July 26th. When it comes to Mrs. D and her interactions with other people - you see she tends to be a little bit vague sometimes although very little escapes and it behooves Mrs. D to remember that whatever has happened to her recently is of very little consequence compared to pernicious attacks that are always present even if manageable these days. Mrs. D maintains and believes that could she do it, she would put an end to these attacks and above all, above all, above all, Mrs. D wishes with all her heart that an end to these attacks come. Mrs. D in her meanderings may wander away far from the river that runs dry, but in her own time she will return even if the river-scape is different by then - and why wouldn't it be different? After all it is a river and rivers are a force of nature that carves away the landscape so thinks Mrs. D seeing a river that ranges from a raging torrent to rivulets but which always has a thin thread of running water unlike the poor pink rose that KB very likely killed by not providing rivulets of water at the required times. Hrumph.