Solitude

Near Wautoma

Saturday, May 14

Mom didn’t seem keen to have me come up to the cottage all on my own

This may be because she hates saying here alone.  It gives her the willies.  This doesn’t bother me at all, since I spent all those years in our old cabin, which was a lot more isolated than this.  In the right frame of mind, I could happily spend a week or two here on my own. "Spooky" woods at night don’t bother me.      

Or she may have been concerned about the cold.  Today’s high was 46 degrees. 

 This was a bit dampening, but I got busy as soon as she left and found all the useful bedding, including this Hudson’s Bay blanket.

I brought in firewood.  And then I drove into Wautoma for stuff like soup!  To keep me warm.  I didn’t take the canoe out today.  The wind over the lake was cutting little whitecaps and it didn’t look like much fun.  We’ll see what tomorrow brings.  The cold doesn’t bother me. 

Today, I raked last year’s oak leaves from the yard onto a big piece of burlap and hauled it into the woods to dump it.  I got about half done with that. Blistered my hands, but that doesn’t bother me, either.  Watched egret, heron and a big wild turkey while I was raking. 

There were only a few pesky critters.  Ticks are an issue here.  I had kind of forgotten.  I was reminded when I felt something tickling my thigh in a bug-like way and just sort of squashed it absently against my leg with my hand, thinking that would kill whatever it was, y’know?  But it wouldn’t die and kept on tickling until I finally pulled down my pants and found the tick busily burrowing under my skin.  I’ll have to do a tick-check before I go to bed tonight.  A few mice as well.  I watched one bound across the floor just now. Charles has these little plug-ins that make a soft buzzing, supposedly driving mice nuts and keeping them out of your home. It will hurt his feelings if I tell him that they don’t work.  Besides it is just one mouse.  Mice and ticks are no bother. 

I am rocking in my grandmother’s rocking chair, toasting my shins in the heat from the fire.  I am drinking tea mixed with cognac, from a tin cowboy mug.  The kids have just called me to say goodnight.  I asked to speak to Simon, to see how things were going in my absence.  He would only stay on for about 20 seconds before he passed the phone off to Sara.  I should go to bed myself, but that means undressing in the cold, and I’m stalling, putting off the inevitable.  However, sleep is part of my therapy, so I’ll just strip off here by the fire and then nose dive into my nest.

All in all, the only thing bothering me right now is my frame of mind.