Lunch Dates, Weird Dreams, Eclipse, and Other Small Stuff

 I had a couple of dates that I didn't post about last week because I was focused on my anniversary.  I can go months without a lunch date - and I had two just two days apart.  Jeff was in town for work, and I got him for a few hours on Friday - we had lunch and then explored an oddities shop and alternate bookstore (and Spirit Halloween).
Then last Sunday I had lunch with my friend John.  He's mostly an online friend, but we do get together once or twice a year.  We "met" when he posted in the Tallahassee FaceBook group asking if anyone liked Halloween.  Mostly we chat online, but sometimes he asks if we can get together, which - to be honest - I usually dodge.  John is very obviously autistic, and - to sum things up - we've basically been having the same conversation for two years, which can get a little tedious.    I just feel sorry for him.  It's hard for him to make friends, and all he really wants is to get married and have a family, but he's in his mid-40s now and so far has never even been on a second date.  He's just very lonely.  So every now and then I suck it up (and I hate that this is really my attitude) and spend a few hours with him, then feel guilty about said attitude because he's the epitome of sweetness and just so happy to have company.  He also broke my heart once when he said he was glad that we were friends because he felt that he didn't have to mask in front of me, and could just relax.   Anyway, we had lunch and watched the second Wicked movie, which I thought was better than the first.

The night of the 27th was the partial (but close to total) lunar eclipse.  I hadn't planned on staying up for it (the totality was going to be at 12:30) but I was having problems sleeping, realized that it was after midnight, and went outside.  I wasn't sure where the moon was, and it's a bit hard to spot when it mostly isn't there.  I kept wandering farther from the house to get away from the tree cover, when it occurred to me that I also wasn't seeing any stars.  It was completely overcast and foggy.  Oops.  Back to bed.

At the museum I was cleaning the cage of Baxter, a broadwing hawk.  He was hit by a car and only has one working wing.  He loves getting misted, and will try to spread his wings but only can lift one, so he tends to lose his balance.  It's cute, but I realized that I can also learn from him.  He's damaged, and will never fly again - but that doesn't stop him from spreading his wing and enjoying something.

I treated myself to yet another journal.  I love these book with the wrap-and-tie covers.

I keep getting journals- and then not writing in them.  I love the idea of something like Bilbo Baggins's Red Book.  I would like to write my pithy thoughts in a fine Spencerian hand, illustrated with sketches.  But my pithy thoughts aren't much deeper than "See Spot Run," my handwriting is barely legible even to myself, and I say that I can't even draw a crooked line that looks like one.  So this time I'm going to just keep a daily diary - jot down the events and thoughts of the day.  So many times I sit down to write this blog, and have no recollection of what I did two days ago.  We'll see how long this lasts.

I had a rough start to the day.  Last night while I was reading in bed, I had a wee dram (meaning one measured ounce) of rum, which is not uncommon for me.  But I don't know if it was that - or if something I ate yesterday (which was nothing out of the ordinary)- but I woke up at 5 a.m. to answer the call of nature and was dizzy enough that I could barely walk.  I went back to sleep, and woke up at 8 feeling like I had a helluva hangover, along with (to put it discretely) intestinal distress.
In those three hours, I was having dreams which would have made Kafka proud (at one point I was getting in an elevator with a bunch of shirtless pudgy guys wearing shorts and beanies, all of whom had had their arms amputated.  Yeah, weird.
But the last one before I woke up was of Bob.  Somehow I had been transported back to early 2019.  I still had all of my memories from since then.  Of course, I loved being with him again, especially being able to snuggle (how I miss snuggling).  But I realized that I couldn't tell him what was going to happen, or that I had been living over six years without him.

So I woke up this morning sick and depressed.  I stayed on the couch until noon, and then I felt better and my spirits lifted, and it's actually been a pretty good afternoon.  I'm working on the start of the head for a wendigo puppet, and I also have a warp of handspun alpaca ready to go on the loom, but I've been too muzzy headed for those, so I've done stuff like dusting and mopping and scrubbing out the chicken nest box and folding laundry.   I also started to deal with the roof.  It *really* needs to be cleaned off -that flat section is likely covered with leaves and branches.  I've been pretty good about keeping it swept off for the last six years, but there's also that part of me that says going up a ladder onto the roof when I'm here by myself is possibly a stupid thing to do (friends and family have been asking me not to).  For a few nights I've woken up in a panic because I know that it needs to be cleaned off)
Get a grip.  Why am I so shy about sending a text?  There's the really nice guy who cleaned my gutters and roof a few months ago.  He's got a couple of little girls and they got a house they're trying to fix up, so at least at the time he was trying to get some side hustles.  So I kicked myself into sending the text asking if he still does odd jobs, and yes he does, so we'll get that set up.  No need to panic.

Robert and Amanda will be relieved (so will Jeff and Gill).  It just saddens me a little to not think that I'm somehow invincible.  Robert is thinking about applying for a job in Huntsville - about 6 hours from me.  When they were discussing the pros and cons of moving, one of Amanda's concerns was "what will we do about Aunt Ann?"  Which is sweet, but also means that I'm someone to be concerned about.  Apparently they think that I'm not getting any younger.  Sigh.   I told him once again that I loved them, and appreciated them more than I can say - but I'm not their responsibility.

But all in all, it's been a good day.  I've dealt with some things that I've let slide, done a little spinning, and have even been playing online Scrabble with Gill for a couple of weeks, and just recently with a random person who matched up and challenged me.