Feeling useless

1943/26th August 2021

It’s pretty bad when all I can find to offer are a couple of photographs with the challenge

Where’s the aeroplane?

It’s actually not that hard to spot.

The sky was lovely, that night. I even braved the mosquitoes.

It’s been a bit glum, ever since… me too.

Try as I might to avoid the news, you just can’t bury your head. To do that would be to turn a blind eye to too many dreadful things.

There is nothing I can do to help, but I don’t want anyone to be able to say I didn’t care.

Perhaps my upcoming appointment with a new psychologist is what I actually need.

Maybe he will be able to explain to me why I shouldn’t carry around so much “survivor’s guilt”.

That is what I am sure it is.

Completely useless, of course.

But it eats a hole in my gut.

The milkweed is drying up, but this spider is still hanging out hoping to catch a morsel or two.

Every day I say “good morning Mr Spider”, and I swear he acknowledges me.

“Oh God, her again! Scaring off my breakfast!”

How this chap ended up on my window screen, I can’t think. I didn’t know they even existed here.

A Stick insect!

Quite small and it seems a little bemused.

Like “why am I here?”

Perhaps I should offer it some of these:

Milkweed aphids.

On the other hand…I think I’ll leave it to Nature.

When we found the broken butterfly, I so wanted to repair it’s wings, but I haven’t the dexterity anymore and I was afraid I’d only make things worse:(

A broken butterfly, like an injured bird, so poignant.

My resolve is to only attempt to fix things I can:

Boxing Tinkerbelle’s ears, when she torments Sophia:

As if that makes the slightest bit of difference!

No, I didn’t box her ears. See that look? Insolence! Defiance! I have enough scars from cats that loved me! I sent our wicked Miss off downstairs to talk to Grant.

She’ll probably con a treat off him.

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