May 5th, 2018

talking mice?

I see the light come shining

from my brother's front window, some fifteen hours after it disappeared in a windstorm, and I have been released. (American father asks me, Does Toronto get tornadoes? No, but there's always a fist time. Some 30 years ago we had a winter storm that was much worse than this- the wind bent stop signs in half.)

Of course, next door threw in the towel and took off to the cottage before power came back, so I get to go turn their lights off and mop up the leak under the fridge from, I assume, an ice maker gone wrong.

Thursday night I was congratulating myself on the house retaining coolth even as humidexes went into the high 20s. More specifically, I was able to sleep in a simple shirt, wrappped in flannel, with bare feet and be perfectly comfortable. This kind of balance is rare. Last night, of course, it was all 'oh there's no heat oh I can't warm my beanbags oh what shall I do here in the dark??' What I did was wrap me in flannel and feathers and wool and fall asleep at 7:30, waking only eight hours later to take a mistimed penicillin pill before going back for another four hours. Is this my sinuses doing their last blast routine, or the perennial muscle relaxants, or depression? Deponent knoweth not, but is still tired and achey. Shall call it allergies in the new blooming world and leave it at that.