The full version of this blog and audio version is only on our Patreon page. $5 a month is all we ask for your support of this blog made possible since 2011. We volunteer our time and energy and all resources. Help us by joining Patreon at www.patreon.com/2travelingdogsrescue
This is Fruitycake.
Baby, you can drive my car. Except you cannot, because it is not my car, and apparently today we have to give it back. I do not understand rental cars. You give someone money, they give you a car, you fill the car with dog hair and the lingering aroma of pizza, and then just when you have become emotionally attached to having four wheels, they want it back. Seems suspicious. But I will admit something. Having a car these last few days has been NICE. We went to that Lake Como place. We visited a rescue. We met dogs who deserve to be seen as individuals and not numbers. We drove through places I had never sniffed before. We stopped when we wanted to stop. We carried things without wondering how many trains, buses, hills and bad decisions were involved. I could get used to this lifestyle.
But today, the carriage turns back into a pumpkin. Or in our case, we go back to being the Flintstones.
YABBA DABBA DO NOT MAKE ME WALK UP ANOTHER HILL.
Before Boy Person returns the car, however, he has missions. Important missions. Possibly civilization-saving missions. First, he has to get fuel for our generator because this Portofino place has apparently misplaced the sun. It has been cloudy and rainy, and solar panels have one very unreasonable requirement: SUN. You would think someone would have mentioned this when we decided to live in an abandoned house in a valley surrounded by mountains and trees. So Boy Person is going to fill up our fuel supplies so that we can have electricity when the sky decides to be gray for twelve consecutive centuries.
Then he has to get groceries because once that rental car leaves, so does our grocery store on wheels. We cannot go again until Monday. I have submitted my grocery request in writing, verbally and telepathically.
FISH.
That is the entire list.
Fish.
Girl Person may believe that vegetables and bread and coffee and other so-called necessities belong on this list, but I have reviewed the household budget and concluded that 97 percent should be allocated to fish. The remaining three percent can be pizza. This is what happens when the most qualified person in the family is finally put in charge of procurement.
Girl Person is not going on today’s expedition. She overdid it during our rescue visit because she was happy. Really happy. And sometimes when you have waited a long time to feel like yourself again, you forget that your body did not get the same memo. She wanted to see everything, talk to everyone, meet the dogs, tell their stories, film, take pictures and remember why we started doing all of this fifteen years ago. Now her body has filed an official complaint, and she is sick in bed. So today it is ALL Boy Person.
This concerns me.
Boy Person is capable of many things. He can carry heavy objects. He can operate a generator. He can drive a rental car through Italy without Girl Person screaming every single minute. Maybe every other minute. But grocery shopping unsupervised? We are entering dangerous territory. I asked for fish. I may receive seventeen yogurts, a bag of crackers and something neither of us can identify but that Boy Person bought because there was a picture of a chicken on it.
Still, I am grateful.
Because that little rental car reminded us what life could feel like again. Easier. Not easy. Just easier. A car meant we could get to a rescue and meet dogs who needed their stories told. It meant Girl Person did not have to carry everything. It meant groceries did not require an expedition. It meant we could take me places where my nose had never been. It meant freedom.
And now we go back to the Flintstones.
Honestly, even the Flintstones’ car would be an improvement. At least Fred had transportation. Sure, he had to power it with his feet, but have you SEEN the hills around here? Fred Flintstone would have calves the size of watermelons after one week at this rustico.
But maybe we are almost finished with this chapter.
We are hoping—really hoping—that this weekend could bring the right person who sees this place and loves what it can become. Someone who sees the trees and the waterfall and the old mills and the history instead of seeing three people standing in the woods yelling, “WHERE IS THE SUN?” Maybe this is the weekend something changes. Maybe we can sell this place, move forward, continue our rescue work and eventually have transportation that does not have to be returned by a certain hour with a full tank of gas.
And maybe this is also a good day to remember that crying is not weakness. Sometimes the body knows it needs to release what the heart and mind have been carrying for too long. Girl Person has been holding so much—hope, exhaustion, memories, responsibility, love and fear. Maybe the tears are part of letting some of those painful things move through her instead of forcing them to stay trapped inside.
So today’s affirmation from Fruitycake is:
September 10 | Crying Can Be A Release, So Let Those Terrible Things Go
TODAY’S AFFIRMATION
Please follow along in your September workbook and take this affirmation with you today. If you need to cry, cry. If you need to rest, rest. If you need to let something go, let it go gently. You do not have to explain every tear or apologize for needing a moment to feel what you feel.
Crying can be a release, and I will let painful things move through me. My tears do not make me weak or dramatic.
I will allow my body to release what words cannot hold. When the tears slow, I will treat myself gently.
Until then, we keep doing what we have always done.
We improvise.
We laugh.
We tell stories.
We help dogs.
We eat fish.
And we keep believing that the next chapter can be different, even when the current chapter involves Boy Person driving away with our only vehicle while Girl Person is in bed and I stand at the window wondering whether he understood that FISH WAS NOT A SUGGESTION.
There is one final mystery I may never solve.
The next people who rent our car.
Will they smell the pizza?
Will they get inside, adjust the mirrors, buckle their seatbelts and suddenly say, “Why does this Fiat smell like mozzarella?”
They will never know.
But I will.
Fruitycake
P.S. Persons, we could really use some help today. Support has been very low this week, and before the rental car goes back, Boy Person needs to get our groceries and generator fuel to carry us through until we can go again Monday. If you can help with today’s necessities, thank you. Every bit makes this Flintstones life a little easier.
HELP WITH NECESSITIES, GROCERIES & FUEL:
www.tinyurl.com/2tdnecessities
JOIN US ON PATREON — $5 A MONTH:
www.patreon.com/2travelingdogsrescue
VENMO:
travelingdogs2
ZELLE:
And if Boy Person comes home without fish, please send thoughts and prayers.
Mostly for Boy Person.
