heading into the weekend

A somewhat discombobulating week is coming to an end, although of course things might improve over the weekend. 

Early on Thursday morning I was waiting for my coffee to come up in the small stovetop espresso pot but it didn’t. I waited some more, fed the dogs, then put milk in the microwave. Still I was waiting. I felt troubled because the coffee didn’t come up. But then, as I was looking glumly at the moka pot in the gloomy dawn light, I noticed that I was staring at it sitting on the counter, not on the gas. The gas was on, burning a gentle blue. This sums up my week. 

The past few nights were windy, very windy. Nothing really breaks the wind in my street. I wake up often when it is windy, the noise is quite something. Then, maybe Tuesday night, about 3 am, I woke up to the sound of a chainsaw. I naturally assumed that I had gone mad because who would be doing chainsaw work in the middle of the night? I decided not to mention it because I didn’t want anyone think I was madder still than they think I am. I needn’t have worried because both Richard and James mentioned the chainsawing sounds. It remains a mystery. 

My Raynaud’s fingers are a real bother. I keep my core warm, wear gloves even for the shortest outside adventure and generally keep well. It is not even winter yet. I must have spent hours I will never get back researching rechargeable heated mittens or gloves. What they all have in common is a big price tag. Thing is, with mittens or gloves, I lose all dexterity, which I need when walking the dogs. Removing a glove, pull a dog poo bag of the roll, open it and pick a poo is enough to trigger an attack, but more often than not, half my fingers are already numb before then. So really I can’t win. Without gloves I have no dexterity because my fingers are dead, and with gloves, my movement is restricted. It is going to be a long, long winter. Expect me to complain about dead fingers with regularity. 

I started listening to a new book by Roisin Dunnet, A Line You Have Traced, and when I am not otherwise busy, I am idly browsing for tea towels. I have this ambition that one day, I will have a complete set of tea towels, all the same, all clean and all beautiful, adorning my kitchen. You have to have dreams worth living for. 

I got my annual influenza and Covid shot this week. I felt a bit achey but it was not too troublesome. I also took Iris for their meningitis B jag, which is offered to young adults in Scotland, after an outbreak down south earlier this year. This is in addition to the regular meningitis vaccine that teens get at the age of about 13. 

Frankie likes the windy weather. He chases leaves as if they were alive. Maybe he thinks they are alive, who knows. He runs at the speed of light to catch one, then immediately changes direction to chase after another one. This goes for as long as I let him, he never tires. He is now mostly just excited about seeing other dogs, and no longer doing his rabid dog impression, or only rarely, when another dog appears out of nowhere. I’ll be working on the pulling next. Sometimes on days when I don’t trust him to come back when called, I use the extendable lead to give him space to run. He nearly dislocated my shoulder the other day, I kid you not. Frankie weighs about six kilograms but the force when he doesn’t slow down and gets pulled into the lead is quite something. This only happens when I am distracted, but unfortunately I get distracted by all sorts, an bird call I don’t recognise, a shiny conker, anything really.

I have exactly two new photos on my camera since my last post, so this is all you get. And with this, I am heading into my weekend. Thanks for visiting 😊