Catching Up

To my friends in the Writing Community...

Finally, the weather seems to be gradually changing for the better, at least where I live.

I haven't done much writing the last few days, but I have been reading... a lot. I stayed under the covers as much as I could -- just so I wouldn't freeze to death -- and read as many books as time allowed, the way I usually do, simultaneously. These were books by Kristin Hannah, Madeleine L'Engle, Fredrik Backman, Philippa Perry, and Nina Romano.

My dogs were in bed with me. They suffered much more than I did. They'd never experienced such weather -- even I had never been this cold in my life. After ten years of being good dogs and not peeing in the house, they are still confused that I now beg them to go on the pads I laid out for them inside, and they only go when they can't hold it in anymore. Each time, the two boys seem apologetic, but not the girl, who insists on standing out as the bitch she is.

We survived this one, and things will go back to normal, whatever "normal" means, soon.

So... I have book reviews to write. Until then, let me say these authors are all worth checking out if you haven't done so already.

All the best,

N

My First Night

I thought it would be a good idea to go camping in the new cabin for the weekend. It would allow me to get some work done and the dogs would gradually get used to the idea of living there.

There is no plumbing in the cabin yet, and there are only a few electrical outlets available. Of course I brought the heater with me as well as both my sleeping bag and the dogs'. Since the floor is concrete and the weather outside very cold, I put a large piece of plywood on the floor where we were going to sleep. The dogs got comfortable in their sleeping bag and I took my jacket off and lay down to read in mine.

Even though I was wearing my warm pajamas, I felt so cold all my muscles felt tense and I couldn't focus on my book. I got up and put my jacket back on and went to “bed” again. I was still cold. I started to wonder why I was cold in my sleeping bag. I thought, maybe this bag isn't as effective as my old one. 

My old sleeping bag was very warm and comfortable, and I had given it to my furry friend Kia who came over to stay with me from time to time. Kia loved sleeping in it. I would place it in the corner of the room, right by my bed, and we used to face each other and stare until we fell asleep. 

In the morning, as soon as she woke up, she would stretch and then jump on my bed. I would say “What just happened?” and she would jump right back down and stretch some more looking at me with her beautiful eyes and jump up again. I would speak the same words again and she would go back down. We would dance around the boundaries of her coming on my bed a few times before I'd get up. I miss that little girl.

Kia's been gone for ten years now, and I think about her all the time. Her death broke my heart. I had nightmares for months and the first thing I did every morning was look at that red and gray sleeping bag in the corner of my bedroom, hoping to see her beautiful eyes staring at me, hoping her death had just been a bad dream. After torturing myself for months, I washed that sleeping bag and donated it to a dog shelter. That was around the time I started tutoring Liza and noticed her Chihuahua was pregnant. A month later, I was driving home with two little Terrier Chihuahuas, one boy and one girl.

The sound of a plane flying over my head brought me back to the freezing cabin, and I realized I needed to go to the bathroom even though I hadn't had any beverage in the last four hours. As I was contemplating my options – cheat by using the bathroom in my old cabin or pee in the woods – I remembered the time I used to visit my grandparents when I was a kid.

They had four bathrooms in their huge L-shaped house, two at each end of the L, and I was afraid to go by myself, especially at night. When I needed to go to the bathroom in the middle of the night, I would sit there and stare at my grandmother, sound asleep, hoping something or someone other than me would wake her so that she would go with me. I didn't have the heart to wake her up. Somehow, she would always open her kind eyes and immediately get up, scolding me for holding it and suffering instead of waking her up.

I smiled at the memory of my time with my grandparents. They loved me so much, and I always felt so spoiled when I was with them. My grandmother always prepared all my favorite dishes when I went to visit. I also felt safe to be myself and do what I liked when I was there. It was the only time I wasn't afraid of doing something that would trigger my dad's anger. He had a temper and would yell at me, but he didn't dare say anything to me in front of them, especially in front of my grandfather. 

The day my grandfather died, nineteen years ago, I lost my rock. He and I had a special connection. We didn't exchange many words. It was as if we read each other's minds. I miss him and my grandmother, who passed nine years later.

Bathroom, my bladder reminded me. It's freezing outside, but no cheating. The woods it is. There's a first time for everything. My first night at my new cabin is the first time I peed in the woods. Maybe this is the beginning of a different way of living in the woods? Maybe not.