Solar panels in the snow

We're meant to be having them fitted today, but, in a fit of ironic humour, the weather has blessed us with a carpet of don't-climb-the-scaffolding. This morning I am also meant to attending my first session of physio. The place is right on the other side of town.

Yesterday did not go well. I had a colossal row with mum. It is actually my fault, because I told her about our plans for South America, and I know it was stupid. Why do I do this? Part of it is excitement. I forget how she gets. Part of it comes down to finding things to talk about. I try to converse with her every day, but there's not much she finds interesting now; politics is out cos she thinks strange governmental powers are always listening, she's not into public life, and even my photos of flowers and clothes don't get much from her other than, 'that's nice' or 'I wouldn't wear that.' What she likes is disease, and the occasional utterly fake video evidencing aliens on the surface of Mars. I never know what to say about the latter, and the former is what caused the row, as she breathlessly informed me that 4 new diseases have been found in South America, and we mustn't go. I just wasn't wearing the right armour. I told her we were not going to avoid anywhere, reminded her that if we had listened to her, I would have missed Botswana, one of the most beautiful experiences of my life. As it is, I try not to be frustrated at the opportunities I missed in young adulthood because of her, but I can't let it happen again. And I was very straightforward; we will take all the precautions we can, but we are going to go places, South America, Asia, America, and of course back to Africa! She was yelling at me and I was yelling at her, and I actually swore. We agreed to leave off.

Annoyed with myself and annoyed with her. But also annoyed with my brother. After all, every day the burden of finding something to talk about, something that won't set her off, falls to me. It's hard to find something to stimulate a person with such limited interests and determined obsessions. My brother doesn't answer her calls, and when he does, tries as hard as he can to just not tell her anything. She complains about his recalcitrance. I get that he's looking after his own mental health in not pandering to her issues, but he doesn't realise that she needs conversation, information that isn't in service to her terrors, fun stuff, and I run out of fun stuff when tired. She holds herself back from the rest of the family. Her sister tries to keep an eye on her, but she's very determined. When real diseases arise, of course, she'll do nothing apart from maybe watch some youtube video about drinking pints of coriander juice to get rid of the heavy metals in one's body.

I read this back and recognise my own exhaustion. Entertaining her every day, finding something within the narrow band of experience that won't trigger her is difficult and tiring, especially when I am looking for new stories of my own. We're having the solar panels put in today, I could talk to her about that, except that when I mentioned it to her before, she freaked out about possible radiation sickness.

Still, I found Evander. There are several of him, but the story I like most is this one from Wiki: a culture hero from Arcadia, Greece, who was said to have brought the Greek pantheon, laws, and alphabet to Italy, where he founded the city of Pallantium on the future site of Palatine Hill, Rome, sixty years before the Trojan War. He instituted the festival of the Lupercalia. Evander was deified after his death and an altar was constructed to him on the Aventine Hill.
In addition, Strabo mentions a story that Rome was an Arcadian colony founded by Evander.

I like it because it instantly connects Evander with Rome, which explains why in my dream the protragonist was so confident about the settlement. And it's easy to see the dream sequence of Evander being chased out by the wolves as a metaphor for his story of originating Rome being replaced by the legend of Romulus and Remus. It fits nicely that he instituted the Roman festival of Lupercalia. I don't think I ever knew that. But it's in my head now.

Meanwhile, the solar panel fixers have arrived. I am trying to like them, despite the fact that for all my admonitions, they will insist on leaving the front door open, a perfect recipe for losing the cats. So I've put two cats in rooms away from them, while Mismatch is hiding behind the bath. As long as she stays there, she's fine, but it does mean no heating in case she burns herself on the pipes again. And all because these men just do not hear when I say 'please do not leave gates and doors open.' I swear to god it's almost wilful.

Still, they're quite jolly in themselves. I needed to talk to R for a couple of minutes and couldn't find him.
'Five minutes you've been in the house,' I told them, 'and my husband's disappeared.'
'Oh no, ma'am.' The head man winked at me, 'for that service, we charge extra.'