Saturday, August 24, 2019

Peopleholic

When I got to Nanoose Bay and the cabin Dianne rented, I walked right through the house onto the front porch, sat myself in a wet chair, soaking my pants, and had a seizure. And afterwards, I had to speak as Rand until I relaxed and my voice came back.
Di’s daughter arrived with her new man, Alex, and we teased him about how we’d developed categories for judgment of him; he passed with us all. He is a delight and, I hope, A keeper for Ashlee.
The iffy weather had us eat indoors and what fun it was. There were eight of us, plus three dogs, one of whom was a barker, the poor little one, so, she and her sibling went into their car. It was truly a lovely lazy easy day together.
I left around four, got to the ferry at five and waited there until six-thirty and then got home at seven. By eight-thirty I was asleep in my bed. Days like that, wonderful as they are, exhaust me. But I know that now.
Smart me had left an easy dinner ready for me to pop into the microwave and eat so that I could feed the pets, put the house down and go to bed quickly last night.
And I slept late. And that’s a great thing because in four hours three people arrive here for a visit. I believe it’ll be a short one; I haven’t been told. But they’re not here for the night. I don’t know Herman and I barely know Sharon, but Sharon’s son, Julien, is a favourite of mine. I absolutely adore him and he calls me a mentor because he wants to improvise a life of self-employment in the arts as I did.
Once they leave, I’m on to the wooden pathway. There’s naught but sunshine predicted for the upcoming week and so I’ll be able to do enough to tell whether or not I like it.
Birds wash in my fountain, but only the bigger birds can use it. I have a shallow bird bath for the smaller birds and so I thought I was well set for bird baths. But no. It seems that wasn’t enough because I now have to clean Sheba’s outdoor water dish every day now because it is always full of downy feathers.
I’ve heard from two friends: Tim is a friend from way, way back and so is Susan. Susan was my date for the May Day Ball in West Vancouver when we were in grade four. She still lives in the house she was in then, just down the street from where I was raised by  the Tyrells. Both Tim and Susan that they expect to visit in September. It’s very good news, of course; I love welcoming infrequent visitors.
But it’s funny … I’ve parsed the irony of having a passion for guests and being someone who has his worst symptoms triggered by the presence of people, so I’ve come to think of myself as a “peopleholic:” Someone who’s allowed guests but must be conscious of how much company I “consume.”

















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