Everybody here is so pro postal workers and anti-government. It distresses me. I grew up very pro-union, but I am fed up with this strike. Yesterday was the 18th day and I want the government to force a settlement. It is harder on rural communities to exist without the post than it is for urban people. I rely on mail delivery for the many things we cannot get on our island.
In just 10 more days, I see my pulmonologist, Dr. Dorschieid. It took begging in a letter to the head of clinical services to become reinstated as his patient. I had been dropped due to a fuck-up at St. Paul’s, and initially was offered an appointment in May/June of next year. Meanwhile, as each day went by, I could not walk without great difficulty breathing. I’m no longer expecting a fix, but I’m hoping that a review of my current medications may lead to something that improves my lot.
My morning was lovely and it was reasonably long. It was sunny and bright yesterday, and there were a bazillion birdies feeding at my feeders as Her Highness and I went out to the car to go to Ricki Ave. trail. They cheer me up my wee avian amigos. Sheba and I went into the village to shop for food and long johns after our walk, and then we came home, and I got busy cleaning and tidying the house before settling on the chaise to read after lunch.
Our afternoon walk was super, too. I ran into Rhonda who leads the fitness classes I went to before I had to quit. She is a wonderful person. It was great to see her. It was only 6° but I was feeling a monster love for trail walking. I felt wonderful, and I haven’t felt that way for quite a while. These endless days of solitude soothe my soul.
This morning has dawned blue with fog. The dense fog obliterates the tree tops and it looks cold out there. Humid Winter air makes me want to stick close to the fire, but tonight I dine with Nancy, Steve and Kris at Woodfire restaurant. Woo hoo.
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