Thursday, January 18, 2018

Stormy Days

Yesterday was stormy and so is today. I sit in my office and watch the trees waving like grass in the wind and with every gust I wonder: Will this be the one? Will I lose power again? Will I have to use the generator? But the power’s stayed on so far.
It stays dark all day and during real downpours the raindrops are so large they catch the light and look like snow. The sound the rain torrents make on my tin roof is wonderful, like a timpani drum solo in a symphony of rain. I love it. I feel so cozy by the fire.
It’s too bad it’s raining because it is deliciously warm outside. I’ve no need for a coat. On Tuesday in Vancouver I passed a blooming red Rhododendron.
Darrell worked on the studio floor but he didn’t finish the grouting. He will today and that means I can start moving my art supplies in tomorrow and on the weekend I’ll set up the furnishings.
Dwight’s an extraordinary friend. I wrote to him to ask him about people I could hire to help me move my ladies because that’s his job at the Vancouver Art Gallery and at the airport: He’s probably Vancouver’s foremost installer of art and he uses a lot of sub-trades to transport art. But he said he’d help me. Now, a task I was really dreading is going to be wonderful instead.

Unfortunately I read this morning.
“President Trump took a swipe at his predecessors while defending his cognitive abilities Wednesday, telling Reuters that previous administrations left the North Korea issue for him to deal with because he “scored the highest on tests.” Noting his doctor’s announcement that he’d gotten a perfect score on a screening for neurological impairments, Trump referenced former presidents Barack Obama, Bill Clinton, and George W. Bush, claiming they didn’t do enough to curb North Korean leader Kim Jong Un’s threats. “I guess they all realized they’re going to have to leave it to a president that scored the highest on tests. What can I tell you?”’
You talk like that in elementary school.
And people wonder why I moved here.
I checked. Sheba was born September 4th. My research says she’ll reach 75% of her height on March 4th. I thought she was kind of chubby but she’s not. She’s just really hairy. Her spine is quite pronounced; she’s actually rather narrow and I’m thinking she may be fairly tall — not standard Poodle tall though.
I can’t see it. I just note markers. I remember thinking how odd it was that she seemed to not want to get on the furniture. Well she couldn’t and once she could, she did and now she owns the couch. And she can stand on her hind legs against the kitchen counter and pull things off to eat. Her bark has changed like a pubescent boy’s voice. It’s lower now and sounds like a dog not a puppy; she challenges strangers now with it instead of cowering.
There are two friendly and highly interactive couples living at Pinecone Park & Spa: Sheba & I and Fred & Ethel. She is my shadow. We are a devoted couple with two fabulous tenants.

No comments: