Saturday, February 27, 2016

wuthering round

The boxy bulk of RVs wound their way around the building. Keep right I said, in an effort to keep us from becoming lost in the off-gassing fiberglass and fabric. Some RVs marched in straight lines, while others circled around like chuckwagons pulled up for the night. Mighty hunks of fiberglass and aluminum lured us up their rickety steps to gasp at the interiors. Yes, it was the annual RV show, and we were there on Friday to waste some time, not to shop. It's a good thing we weren't shopping, as I didn't see anything I even remotely liked. Our villetta will serve us well for another year.

One change I did like is that many of the RVs have done away with carpet, and now have wood grain lino throughout, except for the bedroom. Carpet in the living space was always a problem when we camped at sandy or dirty sites. The manufacturers have finally realized that the campers are for CAMPING! Kitchens remained small, except for the larger campers that had room for islands - they had plenty of work space. Dark interiors still prevailed. I saw one class C that had a beautiful light wood for their cabinets (much like the coffee table in my parent's family room).

Thursday night we had Dave, Carm's old work friend, over for supper again. It is hard to see friends go through difficult times so we try to help out where we can. Dave is still grieving the loss of his wife a few years ago. Hold your loved ones close everybody - it can be pretty rough if you lose them...

Remember the other day when I said I had the very beginnings of hypomania? Well, a hot bath with some herbal tea, quiet music, extra meds, and close attention to my thoughts put me on the right road again, although I still find I have to be vigilant. Every day I learn more about what I have to do to keep myself well - the tiniest change bears attention.

I've given the dogs big hunks of bone the last few nights. They get locked in their crates to keep the bloody things contained. Spike pokes it a few times then sits looking at the crate door talking and whining and carrying on as if he were in dire straits, punctuated by long mournful silences. Eventually I gave in and let him out, scooping up the bone and putting it away. Then he walked around from Bella's crate to Kabira's talking and whimpering. What a pain in the @$$ he is! I know that if I were to let him have the bone outside his crate he would probably take it up onto the loveseat... or worst of all, hide it behind the bed pillows in the spare bedroom. He actually did that once with a pig's ear and it is only because he was suspicious that someone would find it and kept looking to make sure it is safe, that I found it.

The wind is blowing a gale today, wuthering round the house and through the trees, whipping their limbs into a frenzy of activity. I can see snow gales dancing across the fields in white pirouettes, surely collapsing on the roads in treacherous drifts.

"Listen to th' wind wutherin' round the house," she said. "You could bare stand up on the moor if you was out on it tonight."
Mary did not know what "wutherin'" meant until she listened, and then she understood. It must mean that hollow shuddering sort of roar which rushed round and round the house, as if the giant no one could see were buffeting it and beating at the walls and windows to try to break in. But one knew he could not get in, and somehow it made one feel very safe and warm inside a room with a red coal fire.”
~Frances Hodgson Burnett, The Secret Garden