I write this blog to try to get a grip on my life. Sometimes I feel that my life is a bridge of sand, that crumbles away behind me as I walk. Hence - notes.
If you ask what I've done so far in August, I'd say the usual: not much. But somehow - things have happened.
I mentioned in an earlier post that changing the water filter on my fridge has now given me a plethora of ice cubes. Who would get wistful over ice cubes? Me.
Bob and I had different approaches to ice. I would put a few cubes in a glass; he would cram the glass as full as possible (and then we would keep the pitcher of tea on the table because there wasn't any room in his glass for it. The only time this caused a problem was when he was being nice on the days I was going into the museum. While I was getting dressed, he would fill my water bottle for me. Except that he would fill it with ice, and then add the trickle of water that it would hold. The problem is - the water bottle is well insulated, so the ice wouldn't melt. So I'd be out working on the farm, and want to grab some water. Only to get a little mouthful. Then I'd have to take the lid off and fish out an ice cube to suck on.
So - August so far. I've read a couple of books (You Suck at Cooking, because I saw it at the library and who could resist that title? And The Paper Menagerie, a collection of short stories that completely blew me away).
I got my gutters cleaned - that was a serendipitous bit of luck. There was a fundraiser fish fry, and they were also selling raffle tickets for handyman work by a licensed contractor. Darned if I didn't win. But "find someone to clean the gutters" was on the eternal things-to-do list, so now that's been done (and I paid him the usual amount that I would pay for the gutters, because I'm not having anyone work in this heat for $5).
August 3 was the 53th anniversary of getting engaged. Again, my feelings are best described as "wistful".
Speaking of wistful - Van and Frida were finally big enough to release. It's always hard; I've taken care of them for three months, and then I just have to let them go. Frida came back the next morning for breakfast and then left again. The last I saw of Van was his little butt heading into the woods. Here they are having their last dinner at home (with avocado, their favorite)
I now have another possum on the back deck. Last month one of the keepers was getting ready to do laundry (the washing machine is outside) and when she lifted the lid there was an opossum in there! We have no idea now he got in - but he was dehydrated and very thin. I of course offered to foster him, but Suzie decided to keep him for an education animals. That didn't pan out. Some possums (like my Van and Frida) can be very nice. This one - Maytag (because I couldn't resist) - even after a month of being handled was rather nasty and bitey. So I brought him home - I'll get him get used to being here for a week and let him go.
It's the time of year (between terms) at the museum where I work extra shifts. I don't mind, except that it really throws off my internal calendar and I have no idea what day it is.
On the fourth, I had my monthly tuneup with the chiropractor, and also my monthly visit with Gill who fed me angel cake (not angel food cake - this is a British thing) and tea and we had a nice long chat (something that I really crave and enjoy)
We've gotten a reprieve in the weather. It's raining almost every day, so soggy and humid, but it's been about 10 degrees cooler (meaning hitting 85). I was able to get out with the brush cutter and clean a large chunk of overgrowth, and today I cut apart a tree that had fallen across the path that I use to take the car down to the barn when I need to. It's amazing how much my mood has improved with even a small reprieve from the extreme heat.
Last night I did Something Different. I knew that there was a contra dancing group in town, with everyone welcome. It does look like it might be fun, but I never got over my inertia enough to go. But Jen (the woman dealing with the cancer and breakup) goes to it, and invited me. I have mixed feelings. There was very good live music (Appalachian style) and the dancing was fun. But I think I've been a hermit too long - there were 50-60 people there, and that was too many for me. But the thing that was really strange was the physical contact. In contra dancing you're frequently changing partners, and there is closeness when you swing. Five years ago, after losing Bob and dealing with Covid isolation at the same time, I was going almost crazy needing some sort of physical contact (I've written about hugging a deer at the Musuem). But after five years of limited physical contact, it was rather uncomfortable touching maybe 20 other people. I came home, jumped in the shower, and scrubbed off.
And then there was the coming home part. What I love most in my life - my land and cats - is also the most restrictive. There was that 40 minute drive home in the dark. So there and back - 80 minutes of driving for an hour of dancing. Not to mention that it was a museum day for me, so I was already rather tired.
But it was different, and fun, so I'll have to see how I feel about doing it again (it's every other week). Oh, and there was one really nice moment. While taking a break I was chatting with a woman - the type who asks a dozen questions about yourself. So I had mention working in the historic fashion area, and also (of course) about my work at the museum. And she was enthusiastic about both, and then mentioned a time that she went to an exhibit of wedding gowns at the museum. Well - that was my exhibit! (OK it was a team effort, but I was a big part of it). So that was fun to have it remembered, and she was excited that I had worked on it.
And that's 9 days of August.
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