Sunday, my day, was lovely and gentle. I did not feel pressure to do anything in the yard except water everything. Sheba would not walk, so we spent a good part of the day indoors where it was cool and where there was food. It was too hot to do anything outside except the watering. The highlight of my day was laundering my bedding and hanging up my duvet cover, all my pillow slips and my sheets in the line to dry. Getting into bed last night was thrilling because my bedding had that wonderful fresh-off-the-line smell, plus I had the fragrance of the forest wafting into my bedroom through the night. All my screened doors and windows are open all day and night and the cool gentle breeze on my face feels like a caress.
I had two Zoom calls yesterday. One was with my BC stuttering group (an hour and a half), and the other was with long-time theatre friends (60 minutes). Both were wonderful. Video chatting has become a very satisfying part of my life.
Dave and his family have gone on a five-day holiday, so there is silent and still on that side of my house. Colleen, on the other side, lives outside on her deck much of her day, and she talks a lot on her phone. It’s not obnoxious, but it makes me aware of her. I had no neighbours when I first moved here, and I miss the silence and sense of isolation. However, I get along comfortably with Colleen; I have bonded with Dave and Ursula.
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Originally, I had the same dream as most girls of my age: spouse, children, house, yard, car, eternal smiles. (Boys had goals of sports achievements, wealth and power.) Being a gay boy changed my path. I discovered that I was ‘sexually broken’ during puberty and it made me want to live semi-invisibly when I first heard the term faggot. I lived with fear. I had no siblings and no friends in high school because I had after-school duties me looking after Connie or doing her errands, and it was the same through university. I entered the workforce and my adult life a naïve social virgin.
Later in life, I discovered that there were gay guys living together and so that became my revised dream. However, I soured on Michael, my first boyfriend, after only a short time, and Steve soured on us after 14 years together. I’m in the house of my dreams, and I have a much bigger yard than I ever envisioned for myself, but my partner barks and licks her ass in public. For kids, I have Fred and Ethel, who take after their father when it comes to personal hygiene.
In so many obituaries of people I read: (s)he was “surrounded by those (s)he loved.” I don’t expect that. I have a que sera, sera attitude to all that befalls me. Solitary is a theme of my life story, but it has never been the plan.
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Di arrives this morning to stay until late Wednesday. I’m really looking forward to her company and having someone to ‘play’ with for a couple of days. And today, I call the pacemaker clinic to see if I can wait until July 29th or if I should/can come in sooner.
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