Pardon Me

I'm not writing about much today. I've had two days of savage pain which neither the CBD oil nor the Tylenol extra strength alleviate.

I'm getting used to days like these. I know they pass. And who knows why they pass? Some wooey magic? The body going phooey, let's give her a break?

I felt miserable.

And I considered the hidden life of Facecloth (my personal petname for you know what). I posted jokes and comments and updated some of my web pages and thought: No one could ever tell from these posts that I was distracting myself from my rebelling body. And posted a picture of the sun washing the dark windows of houses as it slid below the horizon sitting by the lake with its dog park and missed my Ansa. I can make more room on the pity-pot if you wish.

And apologies for the swimming in the sea of me post.

But there you have it.

The US is what it is, a cesspool of fascism and racism and all the other isms of nearly 50% of its population. A terrifying thought. And their Mussolini at the top of the heap screaming and yelling like a toddler, condemning his own country's voting security with every blast and no one from his party marching out there and seizing him by the neck and throwing him into one of his own cages. Why are they complicit in his treason?

Be that as it may on this rambling Saturday, where the pain is not showing its face so much.

I hung this picture which I got on the Great Northern Peninsula. I absolutely love it.

And optimistically picked up my Book Club's selections from the library where I was greeted by name by the librarian.

I'm telling you, we need to cling to the small things like never before.

Blog Jam

Lovely days out here on the Edge of the Atlantic. Big moons, big suns. Green grass. Denim water.

What's there to whine about?

There's always something. My legs are still causing me difficulty even with the switch in meds. I'm not up to much, about 2k, and the pain is something I have to meditate through. I keep at it - Elder dog and I, she's very slow which suits me.

I talked to Ansa's groomer a few days ago. She's going to take her in as a solo with no other dogs to make the occasion as free from stress as possible. Sixteen years old (over 100 in human terms) is pretty ancient and deserving of slow pampering. I was reluctant to add the burden of clipping and shampooing to her, BUT she needs it.

I've been editing up a storm on this anthology we're producing at the end of Workshop 1. Some really good writing.

PGs are trickling in. I get a lot of last minute PGs which I decline as it is too stressful given an hour or so's notice. But I'm looking forward to a visual artist from Quebec coming on Monday and Larry The Gambler is still here and we had a lovely chat tonight.

I feel I could bore for Canada right now. I could go off on a political rant but I don't have the energy. I want to curl around the end of my current book "Girl on a Train" - anyone else read it?

And oh, I did my volunteer stint at the library today and while there I designed and made this dishcloth. Can you tell what it's meant to be?

30 Days - Day 5

Some days I feel like a kid. An excited little kid. I started a town library. Yes, I did!

And today we were shelving books and chatting and laughing and expanding on ideas - let's have a children's section - we have many children shipping in for the summer. And we have a formidable movie section now. And along with that we are putting the town on line and digitizing the records. And we plan some readings by authors, and oh lord! maybe a book-club, too.

So I want to clap my hands and jump gleefully around and repeat "And next...?"

And a friend dropped off some moose for me. A nice roast. I so love moose.

And I socialized myself tonight and went and played community cards and we all talked gardening and how lovely April is, the light is extraordinary on the bay, and we all wanted to kick winter far out and down the road and some of us bragged we ran around - for five minutes like - in a tee shirt on the beach this afternoon. We didn't compare goose-bumps. But oh, this honeyed air pouring into the old lungs. A right tonic so it is.

Tonight it rains and that's wonderful and freshening. And not white and freezing.

And the calendar is getting really full with workshops and revitalization of theatre projects and the odd few tax returns I prepare, mainly pro-bono.

I'm really truly finally crawling out from under the bus.

British Ingenuity at its Finest

Nothing stops these people from the small village of Westbury-sub-Mendip in Somerset in the U.K. from having their very own library!

Yes, it's in an old phone booth. Who'd have thunk it!

I absolutely adore it!

Cartoon of the WeekWeak

I'm sure there will be a very special place for "My Pet Goat".