Election Diary: On We Go.
Okay. So, I was wrong. We’re going to have Trump as our leader for as long as he lives. Nothing he did that offended any of my sensibilities mattered even one tiny bit. That’s sobering.
I’m at my desk at the little house watching the rain climb into the valley from the south. It’s coming in a veil, a grey mist moving slowly, more slowly than the headlights of the cars on the road below in the distance. We’ll still move here for some weeks but I’m not worried about an angry reaction to the Presidential election anymore. Democrats don’t fight back.
We’ve moved some furniture around. My husband is complaining about the smell of the basil in the sun room. I moved the pot indoors from the porch at the loft. For some reason, that basil plant gives off an odor similar to cat pee whenever she’s unhappy. She’s unhappy indoors. She’s never experienced winter so she doesn’t understand what would happen if we let her have her way.
Tomorrow, I will transplant the lavender. Bring the hibiscus inside, finish two soups from the stock I made today and basically, just carry on. If we’re really motivated and things get very hairy, we might buy a condo in Canada but we’ll wait and see how things shake out. That kind of major shift in how we live our lives will be difficult to accept.
