Tuesday, December 11, 2018

Full Steam Ahead

This is where my poster's at now. I am paying the marketing
and venue costs of our event to maximize the arts council's
net profit on the event.

Monday broke beautifully. I floated through the forest with Sheba, buoyed by the sense of lightness I feel over Ethel’s healthy and vibrant presence. The horror is over; the medications are done. And I’ve antibiotics for Sheba’s eye; soon she, too, will be recovered.
The arts council just printed a new brochure and sent it to everyone on the island, asking for financial help. We heard, yesterday, that the word “community” was spelt wrong in big letters on the cover. Still, we got an anonymous donation of five grand!
The council approved my self-portrait proposal so we’re doing it April 13th. Now we have to pull it off. We’re after a net of $4,000. To help out, I ordered and paid for the paper we need for the portraits and the embossing stamp. And guess what: I misspelled the word “community” on the text for the stamp. (The company said they would correct it, thank God.)
And one of the Council board members (whom I like) wrote to ask to come back to see my ladies again with a friend. 
It’s the most extraordinary thing: walking Sheba, even in the rain, is no longer the chore it has long felt like. After the horror of Ethel’s illness and a true deep worry I’d lose her, after all the anxiety, anger and fear of that emergency, it’s a joy to walk Sheba.
Every day follows the same path: In the darkness of early morning, I feed the pets, write and read and then Sheba and I go for a walk when it’s full daylight. Then, while she sleeps, I go into the village to shop for food and do any errands I have to do, and then I come home to an afternoon of leisure. 
After that, it’s another walk before dinner and the evening’s entertainment —and that’s usually television and going to bed early.

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