roads to nowhere

In the book I'm reading (with the apt title "When Will There Be Good News," by Kate Atkins -- it's the third novel in the Jackson Brodie series), the protagonist finds himself on a road weaving through the desolate Scottish landscape, without any idea if he's on the right path and indeed, with a half thought that this road is off the grid, off the charts, and leading to nowhere. I paused and thought about this: isn't that a spot-on description of where I am with my sick friend? There is no clear vision of what's beyond the bend, and maybe there's nothing beyond the bend, and maybe the weather will overtake us (in the book, Jackson feels the threat of a snow storm in the air) and we wont get a chance to take the next bend, or maybe we'll be stuck on this road until we get so tired that we have to pull over (pull over where? these Scottish roads are so narrow!) and give ourselves a rest.

 

*     *     * 

A cloudy and cool morning. It portends nothing. No real rainfall, no cheerful setting for breakfast on the porch. Still, I'm not giving up. I am known for not giving up on things that matter to me. (I give up quickly enough on things that don't - like a boring book, or an excessively sweet desert.) So, breakfast outside.

Now, how to give you an idea about this day... I'm stumped! When that happens, I follow my camera and chronology here on Ocean.  

So, to start with: I began by doing something weird. Not objectively weird, but for me -- weird:  I spent a good half hour grooming Millie (not weird) and then putting ribbons to her hair (weird). I am not the type to favor fru fru stuff for my pup, but I'd seen a cute photo of a doodle with bows and I thought it might be a fun fit for Millie. 

It wasn't. She is so shaggy that the ribbons got lost in her hair and anyway, what would you say is a good color for her, because deep pink just seems so wrong?

Next, I had lunch with the boys (Sandpiper and Sparrow) and their grandfather who is visiting. Now how on earth did that come to pass? Well, everyone was super busy, and Snowdrop was off with a friend and her other grandmother (the kids each have three grandmas), leaving the boys and their grandfather (once my husband) in need of a ride for a lunch and possibly other activities. So I kept them company for the afternoon.

(Sparrow really wanted a croissant!)

(oh, you two!!)

(ice cream for dessert)

 

 

 

 (the library's next; books were ignored!)

 

 

Next -- Millie had been in her crate for four hours so I take her out to her yard for a romp now. She would have liked to have played with passing dogs (note her wistful gaze out)...

... but none here are in the category of "good playmates" so she is stuck with me.

 

*     *     * 

So.... that's it? What's so strange about this day? Sounds pretty normal and almost uneventful. Well yes, but every hour of the day had elements of my sick friend in it. A phone call. A text. Many texts. Decisions. Responding to decisions. Every single hour. Even when I was putting ribbons in Millie's fur (such a mismatch for her!), I had to pause because texts were pouring in and schedules had to be coordinated and changes in plans processed. 

But at the end of the day, I'm feeling a sense of accomplishment, however trivial it may be, so maybe it isn't a road to nowhere, despite the existential musings of Jackson Brodie. And is there really ever such a thing as a road to nowhere? They all have something at the end of them, even if it's a fence with a closed gate. It's still something, somewhere. 

with so much love...