Birch point blues

Gilly reports a small increment of improvement in his vision today. Shhh. We’re almost afraid to say it out loud.

It’s getting increasingly more difficult for me to patiently remain in Montreal due to hot and humid conditions. Last night was a humdinger. I better remember to have Yaron install the final air conditioner in our bedroom. Gilly only arrives for his final few hours of sleep (somewhere between 3 and 4 a.m.), so I could squeeze in a few comfortable hours of air conditioned comfort beforehand.

Gilly refuses to budge; he’s just not ready to travel. I have no choice but to delay that first dive into refreshing waters of Grand Lac Long. Life could be worse; I am fortunate to have had about 45 years of mountain enjoyment, while some have never had the pleasure. Every time we travel up north, no matter the season, I am in awe of the scenery; I silently send a word of thanks to my dad for discovering Birch Point and building such a welcoming family home. Words cannot describe what that place does to my soul. I constantly marvel at how lucky I am to have access to such beauty. Patience, Cindy, it will come to be.

Gilly managed to mow the front lawn today with only one small mishap; the metal piece under the machine kissed one of our decorative bricks. Luckily, Duds happened by at just the right moment, and managed to repair it in no time. Having so many people around us who care provides us with a feeling of security.