Wednesday, January 13th, 2016 -( -9˚C / +16˚F — Après shoveling and snow-blowing a foot of snow from out driveway – it’s dark and windy and cold in Atlantic Canada @ 11:11 pm )-
— I froze my fingers clearing snow from our van this morning. Then the snow came down too heavily and the wind blew a little too insistently, so I figured it would be stupid to argue with Mother Nature and came inside. I puttered around and did a few things, right now I can’t remember what – and then decided that a nap would be the best thing I could do. I dreamed I was a newspaper reporter at some kind of function where somebody claiming to be an F.B.I. agent walked away from any group I approached. And then one guy in an expensive suit, wind blown blond hair and a Hollywood smile and sunglasses took me aside and told me he was giving me his notes and I should run with his story – it would establish my career – I typed up three pages – on wrinkled and half torn paper – and was proof-reading what I’d typed when I woke up. I woke up with a headache.
— So I took an allergy pill and a calcium-magnesium pill, drank some coffee and got dressed in snow-blowing clothes and went out and cleared a lot of our fairly long driveway, thinking it would be a lot easier if the love of my life hadn’t decided to get us a house that did not have a garage. But anyway – on the strange side, the plow that usually gives us a three feet high mountain of snow at the end of our driveway hadn’t plowed all that close to our driveway’s end, he cut the corner several feet out into the road, but he must have gone by fast – he shot some large *chunks of ice several feet into the driveway (*chunks? more like boulders? -some of them a foot long and maybe eight inches high & eight inches deep – irregularly shaped – at least they were not sharp edged – but they did threaten to wreck the snowblower’s blades.) I think it took me an hour to clear most of the driveway and clear a path to the hill beyond our porch where starving deer come every day and night looking for anything they can eat – and then, after I realized I’d done as much as I could, I put the snowblower away and came inside, filled a bucket with oats and carried that back out to the deer hill – tossed a lot of oats to where the deer should be able to get at it with very little trouble.
— And then, I sat down and watched our ‘trouble-is-my-middle-name’ orange cat strut his waddling walk by me – and I sat there, smiled and told him, “Thank you for enriching my life – All pets should be immortal, or live at least as long as we do-” And he glanced over at me with a disbelieving look in his eyes, and I thought he might be telling me, “Get over it – All cats are the chosen ones and if we grace your lives with our presence you should feel honored, and feed us unending supplies of cat treats and pet us whenever we want to be petted and leave us alone whenever we decide that something over there is more interesting than you are-” But then he smiled at me, might even have winked, and ambled on to go find a nice, interesting box to sit in.
— Yay! I actually said something that wasn’t entirely negative – even if it wasn’t an entirely wonderful day. 🙂