It’s sunny but it’s 4° outside. Summer seems so long ago. I’m relieved and surprised that time is passing so comfortably indoors.
Summer was four months of solid sunshine and I was constantly outdoors.
I dreaded the coming of this weather. I feared that without projects to do and without Darrell here, I might go nuts—more nuts—particularly as I seem disinclined to work in my studio. I seem to prefer a slow easy lifestyle. Each day is a couple of dog walks, a few errands, reading and occasional TV show.
I don’t think I could have sustained this much solitude when I lived in Vancouver. Perhaps it’s the abundance of space. Maybe it’s because the gardens, buildings and pets give me so much to do. My pets are terribly engaging. Or it could be due to the change in my mental health. I don’t know and it doesn’t matter. I’m just very happy leading the slow life here.
Last night was the third episode of season two of the Great Canadian Baking Show. I’ve known Andrei, the Star Baker of the first episode, for many years but had no idea he baked—and baked so superbly. It’s really fun watching, knowing a contestant.
I don’t know if he was joking or telling the truth: I’d asked him what made him turn his back on the church.
“I didn’t quit it, I turned it to my advantage.”
“How’d you do that?”
“When I was a kid, my mother heard me praying for a bike and she explained to me that God didn’t work that way, so I stole a bike and asked for forgiveness.”
I was looking forward to my meeting today with the Arts Council E.D., but not any more. I thought the meeting was about creating and implementing a long-term development (fundraising) strategy. But it’s not. It’s about fundraising for two upcoming events. They keep asking to get me involved in event -specific fundraising and I don’t like doing that kind of work unless it’s part of a master plan.
Fred is a talker. He’s been that way since I got him. He’s prone to bursting into a series of loud meows and I think things got started when I started answering him. Soon, he’d meow just once and that would be it unless I responded. If I answered him, he’s meow again and loudly and he’d respond to me every time I spoke.
Fred’s meows sound like this: HEY YOU. BOY!
Now I’m also hearing single demure little meows that sound like this: Hello? Excuse me?
Ethel’s meows are almost mere vapor. But she, too, has learned how to get my attention. I get up and go to her with every sigh. She was silent for her first year. They all have me trained.