Yesterday: Syd expecting house-sitters arriving by bus at our usual dog walk time, suggests we go at 1:45 instead of 3:00. No problem. I show up on time. Except that it’s 12:45. And now his dogs are all agitated, so we go an hour early. I wonder what exactly I was thinking. It must take a special set of skills to misread a digital clock: my computer and cell phone.
After the walk, I stop by (an hour early, but fine with them) to collect house keys for friends going away for several days, in case a real estate agent wants to show their house. Out their front door, I am unable to lock the fence gate. I ring the doorbell. Don comes out; also tries it without success. This is weird. Well, let’s check the driveway sliding gate, he says. It doesn’t work either.
At which point he realizes we’re using my keys, not theirs. Well, there’s that little mystery solved.
It’s spring, getting warmer, but nights are cool, so we’re indulging the last of our firewood.
Is it just my imagination, or is the wood stove laughing at me like I’m an idiot?
Love reading your stories.
Kind regards from Northern Canada,
Thanks – how north?