Cold and Alice Munro

I’m finding this Fall/Winter season a little trying.  This quiet solitary life is excellent for my mental health, as is the companionship of my wonderful pets. But being forever alone leads to a lot of thinking and reflection and that’s not always easy on the soul. There are no distractions here and what ones there are, are risky because so many of them involve loud noises and crowds of strangers.

Yesterday was dark and cold al morning; it even hailed for half an hour leaving a hint of winter white on the ground that crunched underfoot when I went out to feed my million birds. The sound of hail on my tin roof was fabulous, and the site of the bright blue Stellar Jays and shining golden Thrushes together in my feeder was inspiring.

Even Sheba is disinclined to walk. The benefit of a day like yesterday was having a new book by Alice Munro and a chaise longue beside the fire. Thankfully, the next five days are predicted to be bright and sunny—but cold.

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I watched interviews with the cast of the soon-to-be-released movie, Knives Out!  I loved watching the film’s trailers yesterday; it looks like wonderful fun! It’s out this weekend. Here’ a link to the trailer.

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In the afternoon, the clouds cleared and the sun came out. So Sheba and I went to the park for a walk and some ball play. Then I came home to climb into the spa. I love having a soak in the cold weather!

And then more Alice Munro—her short stories! I absolutely love  short stories; its like going to a five-star restaurant and having an award-winning tasting menu.

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Here’s a link to the most beautiful film of Starling murmuration that I have ever seen. You’re welcome!

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It’s bloody cold outside today and it’ll be like this all week. It’s -2°, so the fire is seriously roaring this morning to get the house warmed up. It’s gloriously sunny though, so Her Highness and I will enjoy lots of walks. And when I’m not walking, I’ll be reading Ms. Munro.

Dull, Dull, Dull

It’s another very lovely day. And the coming week looks pretty good.

I have tickets to fly to Vancouver and back on Wednesday of next week but the city’s bus drivers and subway workers are on strike. Thankfully, the unions are giving advance warning of what days they are striking and what days they’ll work. 

The seaplane I use touches down in a rather remote part of the city and it’s impossible to get a cab. I’ll have to cancel if they are striking on Wednesday (as they are this week).

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On the dog walk, Arlene gave me four mighty hefty garlics to plant. Come Springtime, I’ll be rich with juicy garlic with huge  cloves. My garlic crop from this past Spring, failed.

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The Marijuana I grew turned out to be fabulous. I just tried it and I’m surprised at how sweet, soft and good it is. 

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I walked a new trail to a local park I’ve never visited before. It’s only a fifteen-minute walk from my house and is dominated by a large reservoir and two baseball diamonds. It also has a public washroom and several picnic tables and it gets lots of light. I reckon it’ll be a nice alternate area to visit, come summer, to Drumbeg, the only other place on the island where there is open sky.

It Barks!

It’s been a cloudy and cool day, but a long stretch of decent weather is due to begin tomorrow.

A nice development is Ethel’s newfound inclination to curl up beside me when I watch television or read. And both Fred and Ethel now hop on their feeding table, howl, and when I come to see what he or she wants, will jump down and run into my bedroom and onto the bed. It’s where they like to play Kill the Finger;  I move my finger under the comforter and they chase it and pounce.  

It’s a game that melts into patting, massage and affection—silent affection—and deep, deep purring. It has to be silent because if I talk to them, Sheba comes in and breaks up the love fest. She is jealousy on four legs.

The barking penis.

Sheba is also one of those dogs that put their noses in your crotch. I have no idea why, except I reward the behavior by scratching or patting her as I step back. She does it to everyone, as do many dogs.

Recently, she started doing it from the back whenever I fuss over other dogs on the community dog walks. As I bend over to pat a dog, Sheba’s long nose protrudes from behind between my legs.

When François was here last week—he and his partner have two Whippets—he made a noise as he blew air through his pursed lips. He both vocalized a low tone and made a buzzing sound with his lips—like he was a kazoo, and Sheba bolted away, almost like she was allergic to the noise.

“I use it to get my dogs away from me. It seems to mildly irritate them,” he said.

So … when Sheba poked her nose through my legs this morning when my dog walking group convened, making everyone laugh, I made the kazoo noise up but she didn’t move. She barked once, paused, and then barked once again, all the while keeping her head between my legs.

Fifteen minutes later, when Doug joined us as he often does at a fork in the trail, Regina said: “Chris, show Doug your barking penis trick.” 

I’m going to be famous.