Wet Wet Wet

Some joys are small. Yesterday morning, a first: I came up on a little Salamander or Newt in the courtyard. Dark brown and cute as stink, it was unperturbed by my presence. He stayed around for a while and I kept Sheba indoors so as not to disturb it.

The wet weather kept Dianne and I housebound until her departure just before two pm. I sank into such sadness when she pulled out of the driveway. I’ve loved her company these past three days. I felt very lonely here without her, so I did naught but walk Her Highness, watch TV, eat and go to bed early.

Today, it’s still raining. I went on a wet and windy dog walk, then to the post office and grocery before coming home for another day indoors. Thankfully, tomorrow the good weather is predicted to return for a protracted stay, and I can get back to the outdoors and yard chores. I can hardly wait to get back to scraping and brushing the deck—and tomorrow I won’t have to water any gardens!

These past two days have been insightful: The endless Season of the Rains is coming with its cold, wind, short days and power failures—and yes, and sometimes even snow. And Covid-19 (code for no visitors).

Last year was the longest Winter of my life. It seemed to drag on forever. I’m a little worried about another long one—and one without baking and consuming said baking. I suspect papier-mâché and reading will be my best time-killers.

I watched the Biden video of the little boy who stutters (thanks, Dana). Fellow stutterers can walk directly into my heart and soul and make themselves comfortable.

Thankfully, I’m not feeling Dianne’s absence as acutely today. I think I’ll light the fire, open the windows and dive into a book whilst Sheba recovers from the walk.