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Sep. 5th, 2017 08:44 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
gwydionI actually did get better sleep today.
The first I knew of the fire jumping the Columbia was the sky darkening around 3PM, even though it is too early in fall. By 3:30 it was too dark to read in my room. Squirrel ays the sky was orange and the sun invisible in the first wave of it, but I was under filtration for that. I did have to come out eventually, as I had errands that could not wait. I masked up with one of the last few of the good masks, not only against the smoke but against contagion. (Both exposure from other people and me potentially spreading it.) It was still not good. I was worn out by the time I reached the library.
I was alarmed when I went to pull a twenty out of the bank for tomorrow's toilet paper run to discover more money had gone over the weekend than out to have with just housing pulled. I'm guessing fees caught up with me or something. September is always tight, and this is not a good sign. I went to order flats of Winter supplies, which ended up being 100 and change, instead of the 60-70 I'd hoped. As I'd already done my perishable run, this means I'm pretty much fucked for food this month. I need to pick up apricot straws when I go for the toilet paper whatever happens, and there is just enough left for it, but I'm going to have to stretch what protein I already have to last the month, and I've waved goodbye to my beloved September cider ration. Let us hope forage is good this month.
In any case, once I'm well enough, I'm going to have to do an ebay auction to cover bills. I've already picked most of the sacrifices, this also being property tax month.
* I came home from all this to find a letter from my beloved Uncle, who has been in and out of hospice for a decade. It looks definitive this time, a bullet he absolutely can't dodge and very little time left. He's been divesting for to years in anticipation, and I have been expecting it. it doesn't make it any easier. I need to follow some directions in his letter and figure out what to write him back, assuming he is still alive to read it.
Fuck.
He's almost all I have left and it is much the same for him. He's such a good, gentle, sweet man despite everything he's been through. This may sound like a small thing, but it's not. Hard is so much easier than gentle, especially given all the pressure he was under his whole life not to be and the pain his gentleness brought him. I've been meaning to write him all summer, trying to figure out what to say. I had mostly worked it out last night.... Fuck. i love him so much and family is so complicated.
The first I knew of the fire jumping the Columbia was the sky darkening around 3PM, even though it is too early in fall. By 3:30 it was too dark to read in my room. Squirrel ays the sky was orange and the sun invisible in the first wave of it, but I was under filtration for that. I did have to come out eventually, as I had errands that could not wait. I masked up with one of the last few of the good masks, not only against the smoke but against contagion. (Both exposure from other people and me potentially spreading it.) It was still not good. I was worn out by the time I reached the library.
I was alarmed when I went to pull a twenty out of the bank for tomorrow's toilet paper run to discover more money had gone over the weekend than out to have with just housing pulled. I'm guessing fees caught up with me or something. September is always tight, and this is not a good sign. I went to order flats of Winter supplies, which ended up being 100 and change, instead of the 60-70 I'd hoped. As I'd already done my perishable run, this means I'm pretty much fucked for food this month. I need to pick up apricot straws when I go for the toilet paper whatever happens, and there is just enough left for it, but I'm going to have to stretch what protein I already have to last the month, and I've waved goodbye to my beloved September cider ration. Let us hope forage is good this month.
In any case, once I'm well enough, I'm going to have to do an ebay auction to cover bills. I've already picked most of the sacrifices, this also being property tax month.
* I came home from all this to find a letter from my beloved Uncle, who has been in and out of hospice for a decade. It looks definitive this time, a bullet he absolutely can't dodge and very little time left. He's been divesting for to years in anticipation, and I have been expecting it. it doesn't make it any easier. I need to follow some directions in his letter and figure out what to write him back, assuming he is still alive to read it.
Fuck.
He's almost all I have left and it is much the same for him. He's such a good, gentle, sweet man despite everything he's been through. This may sound like a small thing, but it's not. Hard is so much easier than gentle, especially given all the pressure he was under his whole life not to be and the pain his gentleness brought him. I've been meaning to write him all summer, trying to figure out what to say. I had mostly worked it out last night.... Fuck. i love him so much and family is so complicated.