I fancy myself a city girl but now that I have moved to the country I'm not sure that I am. Who doesn't have the fantasy of living outside the city with a sprawling house, white picket fence, (or in my case every picket is a different colour of pastel), maybe a perpetual infant baby goat, an herb garden with the smell of lavender and the sound of songbirds, geese and loons in the air?
When my life was in limbo, Brother Tom in Belleville said I could stay in his house since he had just moved out. I would squat there until I bought a house in the Quinte area to start up again as Spoiled Rotten B&B. As well, my wonderful friend Deb invited me, without hesitation (first warning sign lol) to live with her while I was in transit between houses and rentals- that's 2 1/2 months living with another human being (for the first time in 10 years) and her 800 pets, with me not particularly liking animals. This is the saga of what transpired at my "3 year" stay at my saviour's place in Bourget, a sleepy hamlet of now 12 people.
|Hanging the mask out to dry- 2020!|
Living in the country was an adjustment to this citified senior. I love to hang my clothes on the line but before you can get them dry, we have to put them in a machine that is fed by a well
This dog is another situation. I think his name is Cujo although they may have called him Raven. He's old, he looks sad but it doesn't stop him from wanting to pick up this broken volleyball in his wet mouth covered in slime, both the ball and dog, and then wants me to take it from him to throw it in a loco game of fetch. When I go to take it from him to throw it, he won't let go and he won't listen to my command "down" or "drop it" or "let go damnit, come on you big jerk" and that really pisses me off because he listens to the 12 year old . Most of the time though he just stares at me with big sad eyes begging me to pay attention. That will be etched in my memory for life. One time I took a picture of the white cat in repose and realized the dog was in the photo, outside staring in, all hurt because I was petting the cat. Ok that will be etched in my mind forever too.
The hot summer days were especially difficult for me, before I started painting everything. Deb had done some very drastic renovations to her house this year but she never ceased to amaze me how she would drywall, paint, use the leaf blower, hammer drill, winterize, re-mount all the freshly cut trim, use the riding lawn mower, load the house with firewood and use the wood cutter. She was unstoppable. It had been a strange year for both of us.
water from the tap and drink it. I guess I'm a city girl at heart. I am just not one of those country people who look out over the fields and sigh happily but I am eternally grateful for one of them.