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ReindeerMoss of Sleet
Feb. 8th, 2023 08:18 pmThe dementor siege continues. I had to bite the bullet and RSVP in the negative to an evite to a cocktail party for my brother, Mr. Science, who is turning 70 next week. My sister in law invited us, but I'm pretty sure it was a rhetorical invitation, not expecting an affirmative answer, given that it allowed me less than a week to arrange a 7 hour drive and a hotel stay of a couple of nights. I regret not being a younger and more exuberant person who, with glad cries of "Road trip!" would set out to celebrate. But I'm not that person. I hope Mr. Science will not be too disappointed. However, this was one more thing that caused me to ruminate gloomily about being old etc. etc.
Then there was the weekly visit to Madame, not calculated to induce cheery feelings. I was a little late in arriving, because the roofing guys came to fix the vent that had been letting rain in. Their truck was parking me in, and I waited a few extra minutes for them to leave, rather than hauling them down off the roof to move the truck. I went to the bookstore and got sandwiches and coffee, then to her house. She was gratifyingly glad to see me, and we had a congenial talk once she found the batteries for her one remaining hearing aid. She was scheduled for a tour of an elder care facility where she might go for a few weeks of respite care. I waited for her tour guide to come and pick her up. Her driveway is still an ice-covered death trap, but I negotiated it without incident, and informed the tour guide of how to get Madame into the car with the least amount of danger.
Once home, I did nothing much. Ate a bowl of cereal I did not need. Read an essay about Kubla Khan. Tried to write down some notes. I've learned, over the years, some tricks I should use to sandbag those dementors, but the more they get under my skin, the less motivated I am to get out my bag of tricks. It's a paradox. These fragments I have shored against my ruins, tra la la. It is the birthday of the Redhead, so there's a cheerful thing that all can celebrate!
Then there was the weekly visit to Madame, not calculated to induce cheery feelings. I was a little late in arriving, because the roofing guys came to fix the vent that had been letting rain in. Their truck was parking me in, and I waited a few extra minutes for them to leave, rather than hauling them down off the roof to move the truck. I went to the bookstore and got sandwiches and coffee, then to her house. She was gratifyingly glad to see me, and we had a congenial talk once she found the batteries for her one remaining hearing aid. She was scheduled for a tour of an elder care facility where she might go for a few weeks of respite care. I waited for her tour guide to come and pick her up. Her driveway is still an ice-covered death trap, but I negotiated it without incident, and informed the tour guide of how to get Madame into the car with the least amount of danger.
Once home, I did nothing much. Ate a bowl of cereal I did not need. Read an essay about Kubla Khan. Tried to write down some notes. I've learned, over the years, some tricks I should use to sandbag those dementors, but the more they get under my skin, the less motivated I am to get out my bag of tricks. It's a paradox. These fragments I have shored against my ruins, tra la la. It is the birthday of the Redhead, so there's a cheerful thing that all can celebrate!
