
I once read somewhere that Frieda Lawrence was known to throw plates at D.H.'s head - whole sets of fine bone china crashing at his feet. To my mind it's a shame that he never wrote about these incidents, as he always seems to capture the ephemerality of the senses so well and his description of the sound would be worthwhile.
Nevertheless, Frieda's technique for dispelling aggression is probably ill advised for the average coupling. It's far too messy to clean up afterward when you don't have a housekeeper and it might be misunderstood.
So, I wish to suggest an alternative method for the diffusion of aggression or frustration or whatever you want to call it, politely. It's pretty simple. "Take out" something that needs taken out i.e. at least be productive., which leads to my unlikely segue onto the topic of burdock.
During my first summer on the mountain, I would cut the purple flowers from the massive stalks of the great burdock for arrangements in the house. The flowers are not the most delicate or enchanting but they do have their interest, if, and only if, you are unaware of their true potential.
My herb encyclopedia claims that burdock was greatly valued during WWII when traditional Western medicines where being directed to the battlefields and continues to be highly prized by herbalist today. Well, with burrs the size of golf balls that latch onto beautiful wool sweaters or the backside of the dog with a greater tenacity than velcro, these monsters are the Monsanto of the third grade lecture on seed dispersal, and you won't find me cultivating these beastly bullies in my gardens.
So with a little more of an understanding, I am out there this summer with my aggression and clippers, hacking away at the burdock in leu of plates or anything else easily found at hand. Thankfully, the burdock has a drawn out carrunch when cut that lends itself quite well to satisfaction.
Oh, and I promised some general self help. So, if you should lack either burdock or extra china, which I am assuming you do, I suggest cleaning out your desk without any forgiveness for the slips of paper that hint at important things to remember, or ruthlessly attacking your inbox with the delete button. Or simply, pick up Lady Chatterley's Lover and remember Frieda. Now there was a woman with some spirit.