This afternoon, or perhaps tomorrow morning depending, I head off to the long-awaited iconography workshop. I’ll be staying at a monastery for nearly a week. Though I will take the laptop, I have no idea whether there’s wifi in the vicinity. Under the circumstances this is a question I’d feel really off-point asking.
So if I don’t blog until next weekend, don’t worry. I haven’t been kidnapped by agents of the Deep State or taken up into an alien spacecraft and subjected to anal probes (but I repeat myself). I’m just studying icons and enjoying away-time, courtesy of the retreat center and you (you know who you are) who got me there.
I do hope to have one more post today before I go. We’ll see.
This is already a very special Sunday. Ava went to Furrydoc’s Doggie Hotel yesterday and it’s just me and the cat. While the cat can be a pretty big PITA, she merely thinks she’s a dog, entitled to all the privileges, begging, and clinginess of caninity. On some level she still realizes she’s a typical feline whose ultimate purpose in life is to trip me and kill me so she can get her morning food 10 steps before I reach her bowl. When she begs for snacks I can ignore her, knowing she’ll haughtily turn her nose up at them if I comply. When she demands petting, I can ignore her, knowing she might take a bite out of me if I don’t perform precisely to her unstated requirements.
Ava is a Dog in Spades. As I’ve mention before, she’s the most intense, needy, and intrusive dog I’ve ever had. Love her dearly, but when she’s around it’s simply impossible not to be aware of her at every moment. Do housework? She follows my every move, a desperate look in her eye. Get slightly peeved and mutter a bad word (not even directed at her)? Judging by her response, you’d think I was Yahweh one of his “kill ’em all including their babies, livestock, and pets” moods. Walk vaguely in the direction of the back door? OH BOY OH BOY OH BOY, IT MUST BE WALKIES! (she exclaims as she flies repeatedly into the air). God forbid she should actually spot me packing for a week away. Her terror of abandonment becomes positively Victorian in its melodrama.
Yeah. Love her. But a day sans Ava is a day of oh so much peace. Yesterday it was a day of household work performed at leisure without my emotional four-legged shadow. Today … I sit. I read. I have to remind myself that I don’t have to be out the door at 8:30 a.m., leash in hand, dog bouncing like a jack-in-the-box.
Glorious. But it takes some getting used to. Usually, just about the time I’ve finally achieved satori (i.e. the point of not thinking every five minutes “what will Ava do?”) … Ava comes back from Furrydoc’s.
Still, I’ll take what I can get. And what I get right now is a morning of quiet reading with a big stack of library books.
The neighbors and The Wandering Monk will be keeping an eye on my corner of the real world in my absence. I was thinking about inviting either Silver or He Who Fakes It Well to blog in my stead (and hey, you two, you ARE invited if you’re so inclined!), but both are in busy stressful times now, so I won’t ask. If they blog, it’ll be a bonus blessing. If not … I’ll be back.