I woke up early today. Tired, of course, but I decided to get up anyway. Got to see Seth-kun online, if only for a brief moment. It was still kind of dark outside at that point, I think.
So I took a shower, because I really needed to. I'd already taken two sleaze days in a row, which makes me smelly. I suppose I could put a positive spin on it by calling them "green days" or "eco days" or whatever - after all, not showering, and re-using yesterday's clothes means less hot water spent and slightly more time between each time I run the laundry. But I like calling them "sleaze days". It's also because I get dry skin after showering, and it's worse during the winter than the rest of the year. I don't do sleaze days during summer because there's no need to.
I feel so much more refreshed and able to do stuff when I've showered. And I'd never not shower on a day I'm going out.
Anyway, before I knew it, it was past noon. Time to go check the mail. Part of my amazon order had arrived, but not the part with my mp3 player in it. I expect I'll get that tomorrow. Onwards to my grandparents, delivering their mail, taking out the compost, hanging up more bird feed, serving them tea, and volunteering to fetch more firewood - they were nearly out, and since it's milder now, the ground is more icy, so I wouldn't want my grandfather to go out for firewood. Oh, and I also got to show off some of my knitting - the finished Slither socks, the scarf I started yesterday, and the green felted bag, which is right now undergoing its third machine felting cycle, as I'm not completely satisfied with it yet.
It bothers me a fair deal that my grandmother always says she wants to pay me back for stuff - even insignificant stuff like me hanging out bird food outside her kitchen window. I don't want to get paid for being nice, or for being the ideal granddaughter. At least not in money. I have no trouble at all accepting a free meal, and a sincere "thank you" means a lot more to me than money. She's not that much better off than me, I think. She always uses "I can afford it" as an argument, but "so can I" is usually my reply.
I think she's trying to not rely on me so much. She doesn't call me to request my services unless she's going somewhere and needs me to look after my grandfather while she's gone. My doctor has explained to me that "that generation has a very high threshold for asking for help," and I can understand that - I'm the same way. Still, I keep telling her she can call me for minor things too. Or just if she wants some company. Because I'm reclusive by nature, I can sometimes go a whole week without visiting.
When I got back up after my trip down to the farm, I found Odessa up in the oak tree in front of my house. Chasing birds, I think. She came down to greet me and came back inside with me. Now she's lounging on top of her cardboard box in the living room, sprawled across an old piece of hideous knitting from way back. Outside, it's snowing, and starting to get dark again. I have tea and a chocolate orange. Life is good.