During the night I finished the Ruth Galloway mystery; I can't put down a good mystery during the last half of the book, and sometimes will read a book cover to cover in one sitting. I'm starting a book by Haitian-
Soon after I awoke this morning, with two cats sleeping on me, I read the local newspaper to Toad and then continued reading Michael Pollan's book aloud to him, finishing Chapter 3 (of 4). He says that he would like to hear the last chapter, about the potato, as well. Tonight we will, or at least I will, watch a DVD from the library pouch: Manchester By the Sea, which I have seen highly praised on more than one site.
Nothing extra done today, just the usual pet care chores (including cooking for the chickens), keeping us fed, and a bit of housework. I practiced French via 3 Duolingo review lessons, to keep my current streak of consecutive days going. I now have a streak of seventy-eight days!
My daughter Skyped today and I had a sweet visit with her and my grandsons. Grandson C is feeling much better since I last saw him Thursday. My daughter said that yesterday she asked what he wanted when he woke up and he said "Medicine" She gave him Tylenol for his fever and he said" Ah, I feel better now!" He is such a sweet little guy. He was able to sleep last night without waking or having to be held and he is better, thank goodness. But now my daughter is coming down with the misery that he had. I so wish that I could go down and help her with the boys and help take care of her as well. The boys are very active and require a lot of supervision and care. It's nearly all on her shoulders because my son-in-law works many hours a week and has to sleep to be able to work.
Poor Toad says that he feels worse than usual, and his usual is not very good. He tried to lie down a while ago but soon got up, claiming that he felt worse lying down. That is a first. He is worried about himself. He just now went back to lie down again at 5:31pm. He is getting increasing forgetful, unable to find his gloves two days in a row and fretting like a child. I have to find them for him. Same with his lanyard of keys to the mailbox and house. He swears at me when I remind him to put the keys in the same place each time he is finished with them. For a year or so he did take my advice, but for the past several months he has not been able remember to do it and is irritated with me for saying anything. Last week he even forgot that he has keys and when I asked him to bring his keys he looked confused and asked, "Keys?" I told him that he has keys to the mailbox and house and he replied, "I do?" Sigh.
It is sooo cold and windy outside that our woodstove doesn't heat the house as well as it normally does in winter. I stay bundled up and am still chilly much of the time. It's a damp, raw cold, so even though it is 2C (35F) it feels colder. Without the wind it wouldn't be so bad. It is supposed to warm up a little bit and then rain tonight and tomorrow. And then get colder again. Oh, joy.
Toad is up again at 5:47pm, sixteen minutes from when he lay down. He says he tried to rest but feels "agitated or something. I don't know." While he was out of the room I stoked the fire in the woodstove which was nearly out and got it going well. Toad often forgets to close the damper, which lets the heat go up the chimney instead of warming the house. When I checked before stoking the fire the damper was open. Again, if I ask him anything about the stove being damped down he gets angry with me and swears at me, claiming that he does not leave the damper open. He hates for me to mention anything about bringing in firewood and has reluctantly begun bringing in 2 or 3 sticks and claiming it is "enough". Sure it is, for about an hour to an hour and a half. I know that he doesn't feel well but he's so doggone stubborn and hateful whenever I suggest that we pay someone to bring a bunch of wood up to the back porch and cover it. If my lungs were better I would do it, but my asthma is really bad in cold weather and worse if I exert myself in the cold. I just can't do it. Apparently neither of us can, but he manages to get us by so far.
Let no good deed go unpunished. I give our dog the wet cat food can after emptying it onto their saucers in the kitchen, where he cannot go. Today I noticed a hunk of wet food that one of the cats had pushed off a saucer onto the floor; it was starting to dry out, so I chucked it into the emptied can before giving it to Foxy. He wolfed it down. About fifteen minutes later I smelled a horrendous odor emanating silently from his behind as he lay at my feet. Ooof! The gas attacks continued, slowly weakening in intensity, for over half an hour. He's only done that once before, a couple of years ago when I gave him some canned dog food, a well-known brand. That time was even worse because he had more canned food then compared with today, so the attacks were fiercer and lasted for a longer period of time. Silent but deadly, as my son used to say.
I am reading: Bad Feminist: essays, by Roxane Gay
Photo(s)/Capture(s) of the Day:
|C: "Nana, it's a magic wand!", waving it over Mickey Mouse's face.|
Addendum: We both watched Manchester By the Sea this evening, along with the bonus material on the DVD. I made us popcorn to eat during the movie and it was very cozy. It is a very emotional movie--"heavy". I am glad that I watched it. Afterwards I spent quite a bit of time writing up my notes with captures from my Skype visit with my daughter and grandsons today, and then emailed them to myself, to her, and to my son. Now off to read and, hopefully sleep, at 1:53am Atlantic Time.