This is the life!
What a sweet deal! This couple that I know pays me to dogsit when they go on vacations (usually backpacking expeditions). Their house is interesting in that it is a connected duplex; at one time it was a regular house, but the previous owner wanted his kid to live here when she got married, so they added another bedroom and kitchen. So the house is like mirror image of itself, but decorated differently. They left a shitload of fruit that'll go bad by the time they get back, so, whoa-is-me, I'll have to eat the blueberries, zucchini, and peaches! How will I go on? Yesterday, I got out of bed at noon, went to the pool (indoor), read, fell asleep on the floaty thingie, woke up moved to the hammok, fell asleep some more, read, walked the dogs for about an hour, swam again, talked to Tracy, and then read myself to sleep. Today, I swam, hammoked, hung out with the puppies and then got to spend some time with my big sister. She's the one who introduced me to these people, so I'm sure they'd be fine with her coming over. Before that, I think I said about 20 words all day, all versions of, "hey doggie" or "hiya dog." I have gorged myself on fruit and yogurt. When you think about it, I'm a hero, really.
about money. The wife works at cal poly pomona, and the husband is some big wig at the gene autry museum of western history. Basically, they are hippies with money that haven't gone all conservative. It's heartening, but at the same time, I feel like these people are useless... which is bullshit. Being a teacher is a contribution. Being a preserver, presenter of culture is useful. it means something. But here I am, a liberal little snot, enjoying the fruits of whatever materialistic tendencies they've got, and questioning their right to those materialistic impulses. I love that poolhouse. I seriously do. It brings me real joy. it has plants and a washer and dryer and weight rack and a couch and a bike repair area. if it had a toilet i'd never emerge again. Yet there is the social justice impulse, and the annoying little ascetic bitch in my ear: "This is decadence. This is wasteful. Those should be drought-resistant plants everywhere. Too many electronics. Too much cable. Too much" But it's their frigging money. And they live nice lives. I could deal with this, even if I like to think I'd be more politically active, or whatever. getting old, getting stuff = selling out? I have very, very little regret about wanting the stuff. But that doesn't mean that I should have everything my heart thinks it desires when others have nothing.
But sleep, sleep I shall have.