Things aren’t always what they seem.

Less than one week to go to write posts from my drafting table in this spacious living room.

By spacious, I mean:

The first photo was taken in panoramic mode, making it look deceptively roomy. I’ve done some of my finest ruminating in that armchair, next to the “wood stove” (it’s gas) that I was never allowed to turn on. I may have developed back problems from hours of trying–unsuccessfully–to get comfortable in this armchair.

Sincerely, I am ready to blow this popsicle stand. The level of batshittery the landlady has thrust upon me as I’m about to depart has been comical. According to her, by asking whether the wifi password had changed, I am responsible for sending her husband’s health downhill. All because he got on the phone with the internet service provider.

I told the landlady that it was unfair to pin this on me. I get that she is stressed out and projecting. I don’t take it personally; however, the hostility is a smidge much.

Thanks for the solid blog material, though.

On Monday, Yann helped me drop a carload of stuff at my new place. Before departing, I briefly considered cleaning up my hair with a side braid to look more presentable for the new roommate. Then, I remembered that this guy was about to see me with my hair in a goofy topknot all the time. He’s about to see puffy slippers on my feet year-round, even when it’s hot. Sometimes, he’ll get to see my fleece blanket wrap skirt. Why, I lounge around at home dressed as if I belong in a cult!

(I still have my stripe path scarf.)

On that subject, I’ve started reading The Road to Jonestown: Jim Jones and Peoples Temple. It’s a real page-turner! Except, I use an e-reader because I’m a modern lady.

Actually, it’s a third-generation Kindle from 2010, so, not too modern.

The book is written in such detail that I’m now wondering whether the author, Jeff Guinn, had stalked Jim Jones from birth. For sure, he must have stalked a lot of former The Peoples Temple members to get that level of information. 

I’m only one-fifths the way through the book, but, so far, two things stick out. First, Jim Jones briefly had a side hustle importing spider monkeys from India. Secondly, Vancouver was considered a settlement option for The Peoples Temple! Surprisingly, perceived liberal civic attitudes were the leading reason, not its splendor.

Along with cults, I find exotic pet ownership strange. How are house cats not interesting enough? People were so sick of house cats in the 50s that they freely purchased monkeys from men selling them door-to-door? Ah, the 50s: glad I wasn’t there.