Friday, December 14, 2018

S-l-o-w

Fred is asleep on his blanket on a chair in the dining room; it’s his favourite place to perch in the mornings. Ethel is asleep on another of the dining room chairs and it lights me up inside to see them looking so calm and content. I’m still in the emotional penumbra of Ethel’s illness.
Today I have no agenda and it’s raining. That sentence applies to my every day now. However, when I go to bed I’m always happy at how easily, pleasantly (and quickly) the day has passed.
As I read about creating a vegetable garden I realize how much work this summer is going to be. Last summer, watering my gardens every day almost drove me mad. This summer there’s going to be twice as much garden watering to be done—vegetables need a lot of water to grow well. I’m definitely getting some kind of watering system rigged up for some of my gardens. 
Winter, therefore, is justifiably a time for rest. I should be fixing up my ladies but I don’t want to. It’s sad/odd: I finally have the studio I’ve long wanted but I’m not as driven to create as I was when I was Chris.1. I’m much happier to watch a movie. 
Or do nothing. It’s so easy to do nothing all day when the days are so short. One more week! Then comes the solstice and longer days.


















Thursday, December 13, 2018

Power Failure!

Wednesday night at 7:30, the power went off. It was the first power failure of the season. I have learned what to do.
I turned off all the things that had been on so that they would not start in the night if the power came back on. And I turned off the breakers for the hot tub. Then I got all my candles and flashlights, and some matches, and put them on the dining room table. I lit one candle with which to do my toiletries, and then went to bed.
This morning I was kept busy keeping both buildings warm and setting pails of water by the toilets (my water pressure is created with electricity). Then I settled in to read, once the sun came up and after a very wet dog walk.
I did not want to use my generator. Nor did I want to lose all the things in my freezer and fridge, so I decided that I’d get the generator going at 3:00 pm if the power did not return by then. But it came on at 11:30 this morning.
The hot tub’s warming up, the fridge is cooling down, the toilets flush and it’s absolutely pouring outside. The treetops fade into cloud; it’s a nice day to be indoors, snug as a bug by the fire. I’m finishing season two of Mrs. Maisel and more in love with the actors/characters than ever and I’m thrilled to pass these endless days of idleness alone, with my healthy pets.
I have wonderful boots for winter walking. I never ever slip in them and they keep me warm and dry. I also have waterproof pants and a good waterproof coat with a hood. Even in the pouring rain, I walk Her Highness and I’m quite okay with it. It’s not been cold this Fall at all, and I absolutely love coming home to the fire and a guilt free day or evening with my four-legged family.

















Wednesday, December 12, 2018

Yay! Kinky Boots

Tuesday was a joyful, largely because Ethel seems so healthy.
It was another dull day. It began with a very wet walk and then late in the day we had a really lovely walk in stunning sunshine on a surprisingly warm afternoon.
For a mid-day break, I watched the movie Kinky Boots again. It was an eye-opening experience. For one thing, I was emotionally overreacting to every plot point. This condition of mine has really changed me; I feel my emotions so readily and so strongly.
The other thing that really struck me about the movie was the central performance of Chiwetel Ejiofor. I’ve seen him in other movies and been very impressed with his acting but I did not know it was he who plays the transvestite, Lola, in the film. He is nothing short of extraordinary in his role.
Today will begin with a community dog walk. I think I might take myself into the village for lunch later, for a treat. My life seems to have been hijacked by my animals of late. I haven’t had a spa or done much for myself.
Yesterday afternoon, walking in the sunshine, I felt euphoric. I do not yet take this life I have chosen for granted. Watching Sheba ahead of me, I wondered if she has ever walked on pavement. I don’t think she has.
It’s a privilege to walk alone on the forest paths every day, never ever worrying about my safety. Each time I hear the glorious tonal bongs of the Ravens, the tree frog chorus or the bellowing sea lions, I am glad I no longer life in the city. But it is the smells that truly intoxicate me.
I hit pockets of them as I walk. Initially I would waste them intellectualizing on their source. Now I savor them. I stop or walk back and forth or in circles to recapture the rapture. But you now how it is with smells—the more you try to get, the quicker your capacity to sense it fades.
There are sweet smells; there are smells that, in an instant, transport you to a memory. Some are fragrant, some are spicy; some seem like the smell of wet and the earth. Never have I smelt something bad.
And while I walk, I talk. Sheba (and Fred and Ethel) are the only souls with whom I can speak in my own voice without any ticks or stammers.