It started raining in the night, sometime after midnight and before six. Pretty steadily, pretty hard -- big fat drops of very wet wetness. Makes me cherish my steaming hot cup of tea with quiet gleefulness and try to let the rain work its old-time magic on me. I remembered when I woke that my car's windows were open and went outside in my nightshirt to close them -- six am on a holiday weekend morning, who was going to be up? And no one was -- and got my feet good and chilled. They are still cold and feel damp, even though I went back to bed for another hour or so, and then sat at the computer for a few. It's eleven now, and I'm wondering what this day is going to hold for me? I've got housework to do, of course, and laundry... but I already swept the dining room, so that looks better to me... I guess we will just have to wait and see.
I called Mom and Dad this morning, to see if they were home, thinking of going down to visit them -- but no response. Don't really want to drive to the coast on a holiday, or be in Cannon Beach on a holiday, either. And, I went over to Mickey's last night and hung out with her and Bryson, which is always enjoyable. This time was good, too, cuz we were at Gabriel Park, watching Bryson play on the playground equipment and talking. And then coming home and listening to Mickey reading Treasure Island aloud, and eating watermelon. A very nice evening was had by all.
I got an e-mail from Ruthie last night, which was very cheering -- amazing, isn't it, what a sucker I am for affection from my family? But yes, it cheered me no end just to see her name on the message, and reading the loving words was the icing on the cake. She thinks I should allow Joe to get his apartment and move on out of my life, just for the sake of sparing myself the worry and distress. (Which I am eager and anxious to do, if for nothing else, then because I am developing an ulcer. Serious pain whenever I eat anything other than yogurt.) But see, I also know that Joe will still be calling me probably every other day, wanting money or food or laundry or some such thing. Which I will, of course, be happy to provide, as long as I can -- as long as I am only responsible for my own bills. This morning I went downstairs, for some reason, and found three lights left on -- none of them visible from the stairway, of course, and turned them off with a sinking feeling -- the exchequer is getting extremely thin. So the thought of my own tiny apartment with only the lights on that I have turned on, and nothing ever left on overnight or while I am at work, sounds very seductive -- calls to me across the tossing seas!