SLOW DAYS

It was a dark and gloomy day. It is.

Spring has sprung a leak. Still winter here, except that instead of snow,
we have rain and gale force winds and, and, and...we were doing so well.
Long walks. Shaking off the winter blahs. Getting summerized.

Oh, we were doing well.

Which means:

Wait. We will do well again.

In the meanwhile, working inside. Shaking out the dust bunnies.
The usual.

When I have nothing much to want to say.
Well...this is what happens.

Nothing.

THINK POSITIVE

A good friend sent this to me.

BLUES AND BLAHS!

I am praying hard that we have a decent Summer because this
past Winter has been the worst I've been through in years.
Any more Winters like that and I may not be long for this
world.

It didn't help at all that I had an accident that cracked
open my head, giving me a shiner to beat all shiners. I passed
out cold and on the way down hit my head against the edge of
the small desk in the hallway and shattered my eyeglasses as
they flew off my face, suffered a concussion that took me a
week to figure out what in hang happened. If it weren't for
Laddie, my dog, I may well have been lying there on the floor
for a lot longer, but he was all over me like a bad rash. He
saved my sorry asp and woke me up and helped me to stand up
so I could go see in the mirror what was hurting so badly.
From the top of my forehead all the way down to my cheek bone,
it was not a pretty sight.

Worse was that I do not have a second pair of prescription
glasses and had not exactly budgeted for a new pair which ended
up costing me five hundred and twenty-five dollars cold hard cash,
which took an entire month and then some before I could get new
ones.

For a month I kept seeing everything in threes, feeling totally
helpless and swooning without any memory at all as to why I
fainted dead away. I'm not the fainting kind. When I was finally
able to safely make my way to the local Clinic, without losing
my balance in the process, as I negotiated piles upon piles of
snowbanks like some kind of mountain goat, the doctor was
properly concerned but could do nothing about concussions other
than to tell me to put ice packs on my face. For this they get
paid?

I figured that as long as I was not pooning, I hadn't had a
stroke, so as much as my brain was rattled, I was at least in
one piece.

I finally figured out all by myself why I passed out but not
what I could do about it. I spent most of the winter passing
out several times and hurting myself. Not fun.

What caused it? Heat! Yes, heat! The inside temperature, which
is entirely out of my control, rises to 85-90 degrees Farenheit.
I can't take the heat in the Summer, let alone that kind of
temperature in the middle of Winter. It's dangerous! My homeostasis
can no longer make quick adjustments when the temperature rises
and falls from 70F to 85F within hours. It fluctuates that badly.

I'm either freezing or boiling, or both at the same time. It's crazy,
I know, but I don't control the furnace and there are no thermostats
in here. To complicate things, I broke out into a severe allergic
reaction to the heat that has left me with sores all over my body.
Itches like crazy and, even with a prescription from the doctor, the
sores have still not healed. Even the dog pants and drinks so much
water that he has to go pee every half hour. It's ridiculous.

Not looking foward to Summer at all. Just praying that it will be
a kind one.

Time to move. Easier said than done. And that's the short of it.

It never does quite end there, does it? Here we are again back in election
mode. An election nobody wanted, with an end result that I have a sneaky
hunch is going to look something like a hung jury. Another minority Parliament
with the Conservatives back right where they started. Stupid is as stupid does
and Stupid is going to do it again.

I think I'll vote for my dog. At least he makes all kinds of good sense,
isn't a spendthrift, and knows how to make a point without argument.
Not only that but he never breaks a promise because he doesn't promise
anything that he can't possibly keep. He doesn't lie, cheat, or steal.
He works hard at his job, is hugely popular with adults and children,
loves everybody and everything and trees!

Pox on all their houses!

That reminds me of Canadian author, the late Timothy Findley's book
Not Wanted On The Voyage which is the re-telling of the Noah's
Ark story, a poignant, humourous, sometimes heartbreaking tale that
is one of the best summer reads ever. If you love animals, or even
if you don't, it is a page turner that will leave you wishing there
had been a follow-up.

Findley was a master storyteller the likes of which do not come
around but in a decade.

That is my recommendation to take on vacation with you this summer.
If, after you've read it, you don't like it, I'll be glad to refund
your money to you. It won't be necessary, but I'll take my chances.