We are officially in lockdown again, 384 days after the first one. Oh, it’s not called that, this time they are calling it the emergency brake… it boils down to more or less the same thing. Except that dog groomers are still open so Adia will get her nails done - hurrah! I suppose it’s basically the same for us except that we won’t have any laneway visits for a month and Carm will miss out on golf which is a big bleep drag.
No luck getting a vaccine appointment yet…
After a week of no zoom calls I was desperate for company last night - luckily Olaf & Stephanie were able to step up to the task. As usual we had a little party with lots of laughs :-)
So… (and I hate to start a sentence with a conjunction but this time it seems right) Spike was feeling pretty good after his haircut and was running around a lot. He was even getting on the futon again. And then… yesterday afternoon he jumped off the bed onto the hardwood floor (there are carpets on both sides of the bed for him to jump onto, but no) and hurt himself. He’s not quite 3-legged lame but close, especially after he’s been lying down. It’s so hard to watch his decline.
We went for a short drive yesterday, stopping first at High Ties, the neighborhood pot shop so that I could get something different to try. This one is called 2:1 something or other with CBD being 2x more than THC. I thought it might be good for stress and wondered if it would be good for menopause symptoms like the trainwreck, only less wrecky if you know what I mean. It’s nice, but won’t replace the trainwreck.
This time of year I always know when it’s the weekend as golf is on TV. It used to be that a good nap could be taken during the event, but alas, the crowd now cheers and yells so it’s no longer quiet with hushed voices.
I wasn’t in a super great mood today - not a bad mood, just not amazing - so a little bit of Muskrat Love was on order:
Muskrat, muskrat candlelight
Doin' the town and doin' it right
In the evenin', it's pretty pleasin'
Cause really, isn’t it a prescription for joy? Especially if you cue up some Eagles to follow.
I was thinking (during golf) about how I would describe myself. The first thing that came to mind is that I am a rule follower and yet I consider myself to be somewhat unconventional: I had pink hair decades before that was a thing; I wore cowboy boots or converse high tops with dresses; I had white sneakers that were covered in rhinestones before Paul Simon wrote his song about the girl with diamonds on the soles of her shoes; I designed an open concept house even though people told me it was a huge mistake; every wall in the house was painted pink because I loved it; I had a pet rabbit and would walk it on a leash; I had a motorcycle before girls did that; I bred parrots and brought the babies to work with me; oh, there’s lots of other things, but these roiled off the top of my head.
I’ve never been the cool one! But maybe not being cool IS cool!
“And the Spring arose on the garden fair,
Like the Spirit of Love felt everywhere;
And each flower and herb on Earth's dark breast
Rose from the dreams of its wintry rest.”
~Percy Bysshe Shelley
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