It's Ok To Love Sly Too...Updated below

I like today's Love Quote...See opposite

Love kicks dignity out. We all know that. We've all done summat stoopid when bound and gagged by love.
There's no place for fine manners when Love has a hold. It trashes what was once held in high regard like.... sanity and self-assuredness.
Love doesn't give a flying fig for etiquette. It makes marshmallow out of our code of conduct book. Shredding it into a million bits as we, you, me and the man down the road grapple with the greatest beast of them all. The Love Monster.

But I like it. And I like it dirty. Love is good when it bleeds, when it splatters and foams, leaving us, the unsuspecting head strong people, paddling in it.
Laugh...
You have to. Otherwise you'd go mad.

And it doesn't matter who you're lovin'. Your husband, wife, girl at work or even parent it feels the same. Like you've had your innermost innards invaded and entangled, and your head and heart possessed.
Crazy.

And I suppose Love is a form of madness.
Because being under its dark spell, in its iron grip and any other superlative laden descriptions you care to come up with DOES makes one a little potty.
I know, for a fact, that loving mum the way I do is driving me right around the bend... so dizzy am I that I even put off going to sainsburys this morning on account of the screechingly awful pain in her side. Docs first thing. Another script for another pill. And then home. And as she sleepily took her meds I drank a pint of Bioticuliusnessbugkilling Tummy Friendly Mango Yogurt. Utter nonsense. But it tasted good. Just like love and life tastes good. And as I spooned it in I felt aroused, death and life, life and death, strange how when at their peak we feel humane yet inhuman.
Gently barbaric.

Now I feel I have to give mum much more attention (she's asleep now) not because she's likely to fall out of bed or anything mundane like that but because I love her.
But I also like myself. And that's important too.
So while I'm ironing blouses and baking bread I'll have one eye and one ear on 'Cop Land' ....and as the movie whirrs inside the dvd player, its sultry throbbing will be a small tonic...

It's ok for me to watch Sly.


Thanks Terry and Nof for replying to yesterday's post about love.

Made a really good loaf, but stupidly haven't eaten anything today other than the pint of yogurt. I like eating when I'm happy. Mum isn't eating so neither am I. I expect though sense and pangs will prevail and I'll crumble my way into the kitchen to make  sandwich. By the way I phoned the McMillan nurse...telling her about mum's pain and lack of colour, "probably entering a transition phase" Claire said. What is it about the word 'transition?' that freaks me out? Going somewhere? Leaving something behind?  This journey is so unavoidable.