Yes, I know. I keep writing posts that no one reads and I keep changing the design, as it is now called, of my blog. Not only that, I also changed the fonts and the color to my liking. I'm a fickle woman and I'm going to try out everything I like until I can settle on something. When that will be I don't know, it may take me a while. I'm like a gold digger and I keep seeing bigger nuggets. I can't put down my gear until I've got every one of them.
I did a bunch of chores and Tyke helped me by going around the apartment with me and watching me closely in whatever I did. I don't know what he thinks when he's watching, but apparently it's all very interesting to him. He helped me make the bed by lying down on top of it. Now I have a bumpy duvet. He helped with the laundry by sticking his head into the machine. That helps when you try to get the stuff out. Nevertheless, I got some things done, just in time before my sister called me to ask if I wanted to go with her to take the dogs for a walk. It was funny, because I was about to call her and ask her the same thing. Telepathy.
The sun was shining and I wore my sunglasses, but I also wore my jacket and I was much too warm. Had I known how hot it was going to be in the sun, I would have left it at home. We walked a long way and part of the way we walked along the flags that were set out for a catholic procession. Sometimes we heard the marching band play in the distance, but we managed to evade them completely. There were people standing on the sidewalks along the way, getting ready to greet whatever holiness was about to come by. I don't know enough about it to tell you. I'm sure somebody will inform me. Maybe they carried a relic. It's a theory. The colors of the flags were yellow and white, if that has any meaning.
We passed a big stone block in the grassy verge and I said to my sister, "Look, there is the grave of a Roman soldier." She said, "Really?" I said, "No, I'm lying." She believes everything I tell her, because I say it so sincerely. I used to tell her terrible stories when we were kids and I didn't know better. Luckily, I improved as I got older. That doesn't mean that my stories got better.
Tyke had the runs right on some one's driveway. The people weren't home, but their neighbor was and my sister asked him for a bucket of water to wash it away. That's how my sister is. She's not the least bit embarrassed to approach someone with a request like that. I hadn't even thought of it. My sister is an extrovert, while I, in my Dutch incarnation, am an introvert. Anyway, the bucket of water worked and we could leave with a clear conscious.
My sister wanted to know how I was doing. I said, "I'm better now, but I was a bit depressed all week." She was surprised and said, "I hadn't noticed. Why didn't you tell me?" I said, "As long as I have some kind of control over it, I don't want you to know. I'll let you know if I really can't handle it." My sister counts on me to be there for her every day and I sure as heck am not going to let her know when I'm mildly depressed, because then she'll feel that she can't lean on me and I don't want that to happen. I am her big sister and I do want to keep functioning in that role. I do feel a sense of responsibility towards her, especially since we don't have parents anymore.
It's alternately sunny and cloudy and noisy little kids are playing in the street. Kids always shriek a lot, I guess it is necessary. That's the drawback of good temperatures. Kids are out and every time one screams, I think something has happened. It's very unsettling. Parents must have nerves of steel, but then I forget that I used to be a parent of little kids too. I survived it, although I think that all mothers have a simmering nervous breakdown that's not recognized.
At least my life is filled with reasonable people and sensible adults. I do count my blessings. And cute animals, let's not forget them.