Tuesday, September 4, 2018

Sheba's Birthday

Monday was my day of essential total rest. It was a gloriously sunny day with lots of wind and much  cooler temperatures. It was 17° at Drumbeg in the morning; it felt good to come home to a warm house. Suddenly, I’m turning on the heat—at least to warm it up for a while. 
I noticed the tide was out while we were at Drumbeg, so I went to Brickyard Beach and harvested some Sea Asparagus for Dianne and for me, too. I love it in salads. I dropped it off at SeaAir for her and we came home to water the lawn.
Deborah, my neighbour, continues to find fault with me. Every time we talk, she subtly lets me know I’ve transgressed some rule or convention. Today she advised me that I am watering my lawn with well water and thereby possible affecting the water resource of my neighbours. Then, when I told her that Sheba and I go to Drumbeg in the mornings, she advised me not to go there with Sheba off-leash.
Sometimes when I wake up, it’s daunting to realize I have to face another day of endless duties. My plants and the lawn are demanding children. It’s barely rained in months and I’m supremely tired of watering my gardens—and now the lawn every two hours!
I finished my entire back catalogue of New Yorkers;  reading between sessions of watering today. I undertook the laying of the lawn because I thought that rain was coming this week but the weather outlook has changed and now the rain is not due until next week. Please God: Rain!
My soul mate, my constant companion, Sheba, is one year old today but we are not celebrating. Instead, we will celebrate the anniversary of her arrival here in October. How we will celebrate is still undetermined; I think the celebration will largely involve food.
I weighed her when Todd and Jessica were here to read the scale while I held her in my arms. She weighs fifty-eight pounds.

I have to water extensively for four more days, then the rains come—and thank God. It hasn’t really rained here for months and I’m really sick of watering.
Two lovely men I met—our dogs were attracted to one another—have invited Jay and me to the Farm to Table  feast on Sunday. It’s one of the days we’re predicted to have rain. However: It will be an adventure. And it’s so Gabriola—we are to bring our own utensils.
I’m expecting Darrell this morning. I hope I’m right to expect him and that progress continues on the vegetable garden.

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