Hello? Hello? Hello? Is there anybody in there?

 I love Pink Floyd. Just as well I can still listen to pretty much any of their music. I need to. Nothing else. This heading was words from Comfortably Numb from The Wall. I think my wall had become more a prison for me as the weather had gotten colder… and wet.

A few days ago it was very, very wet. Days later it was very, very cold. It’s not even real winter and I hate the weather and what it does to me. What is that? Well sit back, readers, and I can tell you just a little bit about it.

This place has very nice people with whom I can socialize most nights, and they all appreciate my dog, Jordie. About every second or third day I’d put Jordie in my car and take her for a walk around local beaches or parks. Very short walks, but she enjoys the ride. When we got back home we’d have our evening meal, and the others would pat Jordie and I’d tuck her in and head off to my cabin.

Two weeks since I came back from my visit in Brissie the weather got bad. We had some rain at first, but it didn’t take over – the temperature did. Non-rain was good, even though the temperature was down. I knew that Jordie would snuggle into the old purple sleeping bag I used as her night blanket. She also had on her day coat – she’s got two decent ones, one velcros up and the other is a pullover. I didn’t have to worry about her, I just slept.

But rain was not good. If you hadn’t experienced rain like we had, then feel sorry for me! It was heavier than I remembered from Brisbane – except 5 years ago when we’d had the storm floods. Maybe my memory is fraught, because I don’t really remember any history since my stroke unless it has really had a result in my head. I could only remember one time of rain in Scarborough, and I could watch it from inside my house back there.

During some of the day up at Cootharaba it was very cloudy, and dribbled occasionally. I could use my umbrella and my gumboots, but much of the time I could stay inside my own cabin. I’d been across for our meal, but after tucking Jordie into her blanket, when I went back to my cabin it started raining. And rained. And kept raining all night. Which kept me awake. I worried about Jordie. I worried if she was cold. I worried if she would come over to my cabin and try to come inside. I got out of bed more than once to check if she was at my door… no, she wasn’t.

If I shined a light on her I could see the tip of her head hiding behind the end of the table and under her blanket. Then I started to worry in case I’d woken her up!

The next day it rained all day. Almost literally. Thankfully Jordie could dash outside during a very short break to go to her toilet, and would come back in so I could rewrap her under the table. I disappeared back into my own cabin and spent most of that day reading, unable to get on internet, and feeling very, very cold. By the end of the day, when it had finally slowed down, Mike said our measure was on 96%. After the full day it had been emptied, and still collected another 13% the second day. Maybe we should have flooded! That we didn’t, I am very grateful to the sand under us which we should thank.

 

It took me two days after the rain finished to dry Jordie’s jersey, the pull-on one, which I’d washed before the rain started. This morning I changed her, and she’s, right now, cuddling up on my recliner chair. Tonight she’ll go back to the commune dining area, have her meal, and later will curl up while I put the purple blanket over her. I am so happy that she has latched on to her own place to sleep, where she doesn’t think I’ve dumped her, and where, every morning, she’ll be under the blanket, staying warm until I get there.

Is there anybody in there? Yes, it’s definitely Jordie. Love you so much, Jordie. Without her, believe me – I couldn’t have coped with the rain.