The wind kept me up last night. Ever since Hurricane Juan, the wind has made me skittish. Ever time we get a big storm I get taken back to that sleepless night when Andrew was up every 2 minutes looking at the tree in front of our house. The wind shook our 80-year-old "solid as a brick shit-house" home so hard during the hurricane that our bed shook like a giant hand was shaking us. Last night, I'm sure we were close to that kind of wind. I could feel my bed shaking, not as bad as Juan's handshake, but enough that I was imagining our shingles flying off the roof.
I think I've taken on the characteristics of my beloved schnauzer, Bentley (Bentley is now in doggy heaven). The wind makes me growl and pace and I can't seem to settle down.
Speaking of WIND - let's move on to another pronounciation of the word...
On my b-day weekend I bought a ball winder at Gaspereau Valley Fibres and ordered a wooden swift. The shop called late last week. Seems my swift came in.
(Ok, Ok, I know I promised to talk about the painter, but I'll do it later.)