My niece was here, trimmed up the dog’s ears, snuggled up with Duckie (who originally was her dog), and shared a pot of tea with me. And I completely forgot to take a picture of her. Pardon me while I kick myself.
Shortly after she left, I went out for a walk. I hadn’t gone far when a powerful wind came up and an ominous cloud darkened the sky directly overhead. I called the dogs, slightly ahead on the gravel road, and reversed direction just as drops of water began to sprinkle down. Duckie dashed back to the yard, and Sadie too, but even as the downpour became heavy I lagged behind (walking, not running, because running gets you more soaked than walking — this has been studied) and she waited at the end of the driveway for me. As I rounded the corner a frightful wind hit hard and I pulled the hood of my bunnyhug across my face so as to keep breathing. Sadie had reached the lawn by then but didn’t vamoose to her shelter; instead she crouched, watching to be sure I’d made it to safety, too, before retreating to a dry location herself.
It was a relief to step into the calm of the porch. My jeans and socks were already wet. For the rest of the day I watched the sky to see when it might be safe to venture a mile or more down the road. By the time it was clear enough, it was nearly 8 o’clock and I decided pyjamas were a better option. I climbed into bed and read a chapter or two from each of the three books on my nightstand: Indigenous Writes, A Guide to First Nations, Métis & Inuit Issues in Canada; VIJ, A Chef’s One-Way Ticket to Canada with Indian Spices in His Suitcase; and Look Me In the Eye, My Life with Asperger’s.
Then the lamp went off and I touched the screen on my iPhone to listen to CBC Radio. Anna Maria Tremonti’s morning show, “The Current,” was offered on the CBC app. It was an interview with a clinician studying women’s sexuality. According to her research, the majority of women are not satisfied (don’t have an orgasm) when they have sex with their male partners. Whereas women having sex with female partners are satisfied pretty much every time. (Sorry fellas, and your gal pals; they didn’t discuss a solution to this condition, except to state that for women, penises-in-vaginas isn’t the be-all and end-all.)
I often listen to the radio into the wee hours, as there is some pretty interesting stuff sometimes. The night before there’d been an interview with a guy who was looking at the results of Google searches worldwide. Among the resulting eye-openers was that men withhold sex from their female spouses far more often than women withhold sex from their male partners. A surprise, as it seems to be a running gag that married men want sex far more frequently than their wives.
Half the time I’m dozing, off and on, and miss parts of what is said. But there is some fascinating stuff there, and in the morning I only wish I could remember it all.
The rain can stop any time now. My flowers are drooping.