Saturday, March 3, 2018


Yesterday in the stores I could not get any sound out at all. It didn’t surprise me at all given the day before with Rob, but my God am I good at my own invented signing. I’d kill at Charades.
This morning, however, I’m fluent again (with ticks). I ascribe my fluency to my conviction to never have anything to do with Rob again. My soul knows I’ve made the right decision and that I’ll stick to it.
When I woke, it was one shit morning here — no rain but everything waterlogged wet.  
Sheba dug a huge hole in the garden yesterday. I caught her in the act and was able to loudly reprimand her at the hole. Then I shut her in the (lit and spacious) shed for ten minutes before washing her.
Then she did it again and the hole had become huge. I caught her in the act again so again: Site scolding, the shed (for an hour this time) and then a bath. It was a slow, slow hour. I hated leaving her out there. Finally, I concluded it was my fault.
I haven’t been exercising her enough of late so we played fetch and then went for a walk. I undertook the walk for her but, as always, the smell of the air, the silence, the birdsong and the healthy feel of the moisture in the air lifted my spirits. When I got home the sky was clearing and I felt hope and energy returning. Now it is glorious outside.
I finally solved the buzzy speaker problem and I vastly improved the sound system in the studio.
The Arts Council has asked me to do more volunteer writing and editing. I’m happy about that. I also got a nice note about my food event suggestion too. They’ve allotted Fall for fundraising.

Oh please! This is a magazine ad for bowling.

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