Broken Fences

Last night was a total blast. I was roaming through a fabulous landscape—a mixture of Gastown and Disneyland. I went from store to restaurant and every one was extraordinarily decorated and animated. There were Greek sculptures that came maître ds and outlandishly gorgeous hosts with animatronic versions of themselves providing entertainment. And everything was wonderfully colourful.

My nights, with their vivid dreams, are so, so much more exciting than my days. When I wake and realize it’s just another day alone on Gabriola, it’s kind of a downer. But then my pets come to welcome me to the new day and all feels good.

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Yesterday morning’s dog walk was nasty. I discovered upon leaving that it had snowed quite a bit Friday night before turning to rain. The snow was heavy and thick and my hip said no, no, no! It was raining and I was boiling hot in my rain gear; it was altogether miserable. I walked quickly so we’d soon be back in the warmth of home. Winter: Pooey!

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Messiah, on Netflix, held my attention but man-oh-man I’m bored with “tough” men and women. It requires phenomenally good acting to portray convincing toughness. It’s the black woman whose performance I cannot believe; it’s likely not her fault. Her character has no depth. Still, I liked the series (even though it’s produced by ultra Christians Roma Downey and Mark Burnett).

Give me more Sanditon! It’s my kind of movie, rich with sets and costumes and such delicious characters. I await my Sunday evenings with impatience now that it’s on PBS’ Masterpiece Theatre. Yum!

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Today is rather warm and dripping wet as the last of the snow evaporates and rain showers fall periodically. No surprise there.

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My new fence around my vegetable garden has been badly damaged. I think I may need help to repair it. It was nasty, this morning, trudging outside into my neighbour’s yard in order to pull the offending three branches—huge branches—off the fence. My pea trellis is badly damaged, too. Sigh. But that’s life in the forest. 

I see so much yard work to do once Spring arrives. I’m up for it, but I’m not looking forward to like challenge of fence repair. I’m not sure I have the required muscles. Just removing the branches tuckered me out, as did the cursing at the branches.