I have periodic days of pure idleness. Sunday was one of those days. After the dog walk, which was its usual wonder, I came home and laid around reading New Yorkers. I just could not muster any energy to do anything—and it felt fine.
The best part of the experience was Sheba’s constant loving presence. She thinks she’s a lap dog—all 65 pounds of her—I have to share my bed, chairs and sofa. She is gorgeous with her new haircut; her big dark eyes, vortexes of devotion.
I was reading a review of a movie in the New Yorker when I came across this sentence: “Problems arise when she starts having psychogenic non-epileptic seizures and he….” It gave me that wonderful “I am not alone” feeling to read it.
Today will start, as usual, with an hour of garden watering and there is no precipitation in sight. It’s still around 30° in the afternoons and endlessly sunny. Then I will tire Her Highness with a nice morning walk and after that today’s task is to make serious progress on the cat palace.
This week is quiet so I’ve to finish all my raffle chores. Next week I go see Dr. S. in Vancouver, then Tim comes to visit, then billets arrive to stay here at night and on Friday I go to Nanaimo to see my eye surgeon. Also, Darrell said he’d be back to build me another arbor for my grapes and finish the porch. Yikes!
I’m looking forward to seeing Dr. S. Over the past 2.5 years, she’s often given me homework but last time I saw her I gave her an assignment: Why I am going to continue to see her? What outcome is she expecting from continued therapy?