Creature Comforts

Before I put on the new slippers, I soaked my feet in salt water, and trimmed my toenails, rubbed on udder balm, and dried before a good fire. This is a luxury. Sheepskin lined moccasins are a treat I never expected. It's one of those situations where the worst thing (cold feet) becomes one of the best things. If your feet are warm, life is easier. A simple equation. I had a piece of toast, with peanut butter and seedless blackberry jam. And promptly threw up for six hours, everything down to clear liquid; felt fine, just couldn't hold anything. Finally held down water at 4 in the afternoon. Power goes out, I never checked the phone, during a thundering cloud burst, inches of rain in a two hour period. I was exhausted, from vomiting, so I took a nap. Woke when the lights came on. Rain turning to snow tomorrow and much colder. Turn off the lights and go to sleep, slept for ten hours. Couple of inches of new snow. My gut feels better, but I'm still a bit sore. I make a bland potato soup with chicken broth, to see if I can hold something down. Starts snowing again. Some herbal tea with honey, a few spoonfuls of soup, a couple of saltines, to be repeated. Settle in at my desk chair with a pile of London Reviews. The gamut of very good writing. I went outside, to sweep snow off the back porch and steps, then kept sweeping a path to the woodshed, until one of those little line-squalls moved in, and I retreated to the house; dusted off the snow inside, because the house needs the moisture, another mug of tea, a little more soup. I need to clean up the kitchen, re-season a couple of skillets, dump ashes, turn the compost and recycle kitchen waste, which should take most of tomorrow. I had gotten pork loin chops, so I need to marinade them, and I have a steak. I hadn't counted on being ill. The snow is such a blanket, and the falling snow, it's incredibly quiet. I bring a final harvested five-gallon bucket of rain water inside, it's mostly slush and quite cold, but I have the heat now to bring it above freezing. When you bring a large lump of cold inside, an armload of wood, a bucket of frozen water, it has an aura of coldness about it, takes a while for it to reach equilibrium. I want to be empathetic and sympathetic, but I was writing and Rodney called, his brother had died, he'd been in Tennessee for a few weeks, and wanted to come over and talk. The last thing I need is to hear a sad story. I told him this was not a good time, that I was in the middle of something, which I had been, what I'm doing matters most to me. I'd already settled in, it was eight at night, and though I know he needed to talk to someone, I didn't want to be that person. Selfish of me, and I feel a little bad about it, but it wasn't a good time. I'm usually a good listener, it's all grist for the mill, but some times you just don't want to be interrupted.