waiting for the storm
After that last extremely perky post, life settled down into its regular rhythm, which includes accomplishing not very much in a day. I’m still reading to the boys in the evening, still loving The Eyes and the Impossible, full of unforgettable animal characters with lovely names: besides Johannes our hero, the wild and wise dog, we meet Bertrand the feisty seagull, Sonja the squirrel, Yolanda the pelican, Meredith the bison, Angus the raccoon with his useful opposable thumbs. Although there’s some squirming on the other end of the phone, it feels like we’re all immersed.
Yesterday, my friend Christopher Moore interviewed me for the CNFC newsletter. We discussed how Midlife Solo came about and how to put together an essay compilation, useful information, we hope, for our fellow writers of nonfiction. Then I made a delicious red lentil soup and Toronto Lynn came for dinner by the fire. She said that at my book launch, someone asked her name and when told, exclaimed, “Are you France Lynn or Toronto Lynn?” Readers know me too well.
Olga, my downstairs tenant, is visiting Calgary, and wrote that it’s -35, feeling like -47 with the wind chill. Polar vortex! Here not too cold, but we’re waiting for a big snowstorm tonight; I spent the morning rushing about getting in essential supplies: 4 loaves of bread and 2 bags of coffee from St. John’s Bakery, then kitty litter and birdseed. Prepared shovels and salt, and pruned off the hydrangea’s heavy heads so the snow doesn’t break the stems. We’re ready.
Yesterday’s excitement was finally booking my trip to Europe, entirely with points. Landing in Paris early Monday April 1, flying out from London Friday April 19. In between, visits with friends in those cities and also in Amsterdam and Liverpool. I hope. God willing. Inshallah. France Lynn has found us a nice affordable apartment in the 12th, a northern part of Paris I’ve never visited. So, a new adventure.
And now, as the sky darkens threateningly, time for a nap. I’ll cuddle in beside my cat. Tomorrow, with 5 to 10 centimetres of snow predicted, some serious hunkering.
Below, the usual brilliance from Canadian artist Barry Blitt. I’d laugh if it weren’t so seriously unfunny.
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