I went to bed nervous. The weather prediction was for 80 mph winds last night. There was a severe wind warning and power outages were forewarned. But nothing materialized, thank goodness. I’m kind of adverse to using my generator (but I will).
Ethel spent yesterday morning checking out the Arbutus tree. She clearly sees that it’s a loft access/egress route so I wrote to Darrell asking him if he will build me three steps so they’ll have a non-destructive way to get to the loft. They are destroying my tapestry and wall.
I didn’t hear anything back so I’m sure he’s going to make them for me. That’ll be so cool and safe for them. Poor Freddy is so large his body won’t do some things he thinks he can do — like jump as high as the loft like Ethel can. I often have to rescue him as he clings for dear life onto the tapestry or the ladder.
I took my first-ever morning hot tub. Soon I’ll be drinking beer and watching football on TV. Not. But it was really wonderful. It was spitting light rain and I’d get a dusting of fresh cool water on my head. It was refreshing while my body baked in the 104° water. And the wind was blowing cool against my face too, but I was toasty warm. The more hot tubs I take, the more I love them. I’m more: But I’m more of a “wanna come over for a Diet Coke, watch some PBS and jump in the tub” kind of guy.
In the afternoon my new rug came. It’s lovely plush dark red wool and as soon as it was down all the animals were lying on it as though it were for them. Ethel was behaving as if it were made of catnip. I put the urine rug in the kitchen/office area (its clean, just stained). It’s comfortable on my feet and the pets love it plus I don’t have to figure out how to dispose of it this way.
When I first started stuttering I was confounded by people like Emily Blunt self-identifying as a stutterer when I saw her so fluent in films. Now I get it.
Alcoholics who stop drinking still think of themselves as alcoholics. They are dry alcoholics but they continue to think of themselves as alcoholics to help them stay dry. Stutterers talk about themselves as alcoholics do; they still think of themselves as stutterers even thought they’ve learned to talk without stuttering. For both communities, the potential to relapse is very strong so they never feel cured.
I’m not cured. I know that. I can feel the blips in my speech still but I have much more control now. It feels miraculous to me but Dr. S. expected improvement. She has always supported my decision to move here and to lead a solitary life; she believes life here has a calming effect on my amygdala.
Today I called a car rental company and spoke to an operator for about five minutes without stuttering. I haven’t done what I did today for twenty-two months! Seriously!
I’m eating pie.
I’m a total sensualist and my nose is a source of joy. I sometimes open the woodstove to purposely let some smoke into the room because I love the smell. My favourite plants have powerful evocative smells: Gardenia, Tuberose, Jasmine, Wallflower, Plumeria, Daphne, Lilac, etc. etc.
I even love the smell of diesel fuel (not too much of it) because as soon as I smell it my memory takes me to Nice. I had a mobylette (a scooter) so I was in the air on the street all the time and that year was easily the best of my life. The smell of diesel reminds me of that pure endless joy.
But now, everywhere I go I see signs discouraging the wearing of perfume. Our poor noses have nothing to do any more. But everyone knows that smell is the most powerful sensual trigger.
I love my nose and the joys it brings. My nose is a free legal source of unlimited joy. I light incense all the time and I use fragrant soap — even for the dishes. (I don’t have a dishwasher.) Every time I take a shower or wash the dishes I get a high from the smell.
I even bought the subtlest cologne — so subtle no one can smell it. But I can when I put it on. It’s Creed and cost the same as a car but it’s the subtlest fragrance for men I could find that I like.
Free your nose!