it is truly becoming most winter like in this little north east corner of the continent. The trees are almost bare now; what leaves were left fluttering last week have now succumbed to strong northern winds. What was once a landscape on fire with bright reds, yellows, and oranges, combined with more subtle earth tones in brown and tan, is now a veritable carpet crunching underneath one's feet. Yet, the fire remains.

Getting up early to warm up the car and scrape off the windows is becoming ritual once again. Clad in my pajama pants and sweat shirt, having just waken, I brave the frosty air in which I can watch my breath leaving my rapidly chilling body to perform such mundane duties before running a hot bath to warm me once more. Reekie accompanies me on the day's first venture outdoors in order to do his business and sniff out the shadow scents of whatever critters scampered through the yard overnight. Although his thick tan and black coat allows him to prevail over much worse climate conditions, he races through his own routine as though the cold is just as miserable to him as to me. He lives life in the fast lane. I would rather still be in bed.

It has been a tremendously busy week, such that rare is the time I can enjoy these last few pre-freezing days ambling through Mother's forests, taking in the last of her Autumn splendor. I find myself tending to clients from early morning until late evening, only to have to retire so that repeating the process is not like a living death. The Goddess is working the evening shift this week, and the times that I have stayed up to chat have left me zombie like the next morning. I try to schedule at least an hour or two break during the day so that I can more than mumble to her, and also to remind the hounds that I am still a resident, and not someone that they have to bark a warning over.

In our travels this week, we did get the pups to the vet for their shots, and Willow to be examined for her bleeding. She stayed overnight to confirm through tests the vet's suspicion that she had a nasty bladder infection. She'll be okay, but I berate myself for what pain she must have been in for who knows how long. Given the fact that she is half wild, and so very not social, it is difficult to tell when she is not herself. She's bitchy when she is well, she's bitchy when she is ill. At least now, she is on the mend, and she can bitch strong and sure.

I blessedly had today off, save the pre-sunrise country drive to take the overnight client to school. Traffic was much slower this morning due to a thick, low hanging fog which limited visibility to the end of one's nose. While it rendered getting back into the city arduous and tiring, the rural drive was magnificently mystical. As the sun rose above an overcast sky, the fog became a deep blue mist, making ominous the hazy hillsides, fields, and woodlands. Tim Burton could not have captured a more haunting scene.

I used this day to catch up on some much needed rest, pining away the morning and early afternoon hours in a semi-sleep state on the couch, at much the same pace as the fog receding outside. After driving Herself to work, I returned to coerce myself into some much needed housework. With a sparkling kitchen and floors I could now eat from, I write in wait of picking The Goddess up from work at midnight. While the drive will be void of mist to mystify me, while I may be blind to the brilliant foliage covered earth, I take comfort in the knowledge that once home, I may rest once more.

 

Be Well