A plea, a plug, and a poem

Good late-morning!

I am so sleepy. 2.5 hours of sleep last night. If anyone has ANY recommendation/counsel for getting over being scared of the dark (or really, crazy creepy psychos who may attack you when it's dark)...i'd appreciate it. because this is RIDICULOUS and MADDENING and CANNOT CONTINUE. and don't worry, it's not every night, just the home-alone nights. i need: 1) a big dog 2) a small gun 3) sleeping meds and/or (but most definitely 4) faith that God loves and protects me. but then i start worrying about all the horrible things that DO happen in the world, even to good people, so...i realized last night that my problem is that i assume it's more likely for God to let bad things happen to people than to protect and save them from them. or something. i'm all confused and really pissed off at myself, and a little upset with God for not taking away all my fear just like *that* even though i prayed about it. why????

but before last night, it was a lovely weekend full of snuggling old puppies, feeding/patting horses, gathering eggs, and petting pretty barn cats. and finishing a great book, The Lost Art of Keeping Secrets)! Which is a novel about Britain post-WWII. reading Maisie Dobbs and this last book are making me want to homeschool so i can have my kids read well-written historical novels along with their history textbooks. What Maisie and The Lost Art do that i love is give you an idea of what it was like for people to actually live through the war and its aftermath. The Lost Art of Keeping Secrets centers around 4 British teenagers and makes a note of the fact that they grew up during the war, so living in a time of war is their norm. And now that rationing, etc, is over--there's so much more freedom but so much change that it's both incredible and disconcerting/confusing. Etc. Etc. I'm not a seasoned book-reviewer, so i'll stop there before i make it sound ridiculous, but seriously you should read it! and does anyone out there have any other historical novels that they love and would recommend?

This poem moves too quickly/flippantly.

I used to love the hidden things--
The secret, sacred ones--
The golden fleece, the waxen wings,
The stallion-driven Sun...

The stories one must seek to learn,
The lore by Time undone--
And undermined by busy lives
That, frantic always, run

From pageantry to parking lots,
From pressures to parades...

From wonder-craving ancient minds
To six-foot-perfect graves.