What a funny week

I finally took some time off - and I mean really took time.  Using the first of my accrued vacation days for the year, and had every intention to drive to mom's for a visit, but due to restrictions being lifted, and the influx of selfish drivers on the highway, coupled with a weekend holiday...it made sense to remain home instead.  Sad but true.

The first day of my self-inflicted furlough boasted a scheduled doctor visit (which was harder than hen's teeth to get).  I found one of my freckles had gone rogue around two - maybe three - months ago, becoming red and itchy, tender and flaking.  But what really concerned me was the way it mounded where it used to be flat.  It took a failed attempt at a virtual call with a doctor, and for her to realize I was saying I have a reason to be seen and not just virtually heard, that culminated in an actual face-to-face meeting...thankfully.

I worked Monday through Thursday afternoon, then gleefully ran out the building for a long, five-day weekend.  Yes, that's right.  I had scheduled the equivalent to a work week of days off, and whether I lazed them away, or crammed every nook and cranny full of needful activities had yet to be seen.

Here we are now exactly halfway through my break, and I can honestly say it's looking like a solid mix of good intentions has become 70% 'laze' and 30% 'gave it a good shot at accomplishment.'  [insert laughter here]  Do I have high hopes of bettering the outcome on the 'getting-something-done' side?  Mmmmm...I dunno.

Anyhow, back to the doctor visit.
After looking at the bugger on my forearm, the doctor shared my concern and decided it was best not to leave it in place.  He quickly set up to perform a "punch biopsy," and we got down to business.  The photo shows one day after the event.  I was told to change the bandage, perhaps clean it up a bit; no scrubbing, but a sudsy rinse, air dry and application of antibiotic ointment before covering again.

Mission accomplished.

In between the biopsy and this morning I bought a new riding lawnmower and cut 5/6ths of the front jungle, washed one load of laundry, cleaned a small section of the garage, searched the internet for stuff, paid bills, chatted with both of my sons (and my mom), and baked a bit.  I still need to get to the grocery store for cat food, milk, more flour, fruit and salad items, orange juice, and one or two other items.  Let's see how well I do today.

The end of this coming week will find me at the doc's office to have the sutures removed and (hopefully) learn the down-low on the creature he carved out of my arm.  This particular morning began dark and wet, but the sun is currently shining and I see no reason not to try and free up more space on the garage floor - do you?  But first I believe I will look at the weather forecast to see if it's changed for the better or stayed the same.

What are you up to today?

Endings and beginnings - and all of the stuff that happens in between

Simply Simon

It's been two weeks of Simon already - two weeks today.  Odin adores him, and is having infinite fun in the romping and chasing category, although deep in the recesses of his brain I am certain there are remnant thoughts of Booker;  traces of affection and respect, and an unidentifiable longing for his big brother...gone but never forgotten.

It took two months for Simon to come into our lives.  No, there wasn't a lot of searching that happened, but Karl couldn't let himself open up completely to making a choice and bringing home a companion for Odin.  I understood that, and I empathized, but I also saw a need to move forward during our collective period of grief.

Besides all of that, Odin was extremely miserable - lonely and alone, and mourning the loss of his buddy.  He still jumped at the odd noise around the house, and called incessantly for our large orange sweetie, and truth be told it was getting  harder to deal with on a daily basis.

I was determined to fill the void left by Booker's departure, but also felt pangs of guilt in ways I am sure many pet owners will understand.  What felt like disloyalty to Book was understandable, but not insurmountable.  Karl and I could have gone on a while without inviting a new cat into our lives, but Odin was inconsolable.  That became the impetus on my part - it made Karl miserable in other ways, but it gave me a reason to keep my heart open to the perfect opportunity.

My mind was set on an older female (for reasons I won't bore you with here and now), but Simon was the one who presented himself a couple of Saturdays ago, and the rest is history.  As you can see from the photo, he is a scrawny kitten of approximately 18 weeks of age - so that makes him about 4 months old.  He's tiny, and as it turned out (despite vet papers provided by the rescue agency), he had fleas; we found this out the hard way.  Both boys are wearing flea collars now (yes, Odin ended up with them, too).  But this wasn't the worst of it, either.

Last Saturday became a very expensive run to the vet clinic which the rescue bunch had taken Simon's litter to.  Ended up with two vaccinations and an oral treatment, plus the rather expensive flea collars.  And I won't even make you guess that one of the treatments was for tapeworm.  Yup, tapeworm!  So, here we are, $155 poorer, but Simon is that much better for it.  Hopefully his robust appetite will help to put some meat on his little bones over the next few months.  Right now he's curious, playful, loving, and excellent company for Odin.

The splendid Booker - rest in peace

Farewell, Booker...you are much loved and will be forever missed.

For those of you paying attention

In January we had a drop-in guest during that
horrible cold wave (Polar Vortex #1 of 2019).

Do you remember the story?

Do you remember what we named her?

Can you even recall what type of
critter she is?

Well, Click is doing fine, thank you.
Our 'keeper' tells me she healthy
and content, and is on track for a
successful release this spring.

This is happiness.
[sigh]
<3 p="">

Catnapping our way to the end of the year

As I stretch out and relax a little, background noise droning quietly and the sound of the twins softly breathing around me, I can't help but finally enjoy the day.  The wind pummeling the windows sounds unforgiving, so I give thanks for this little house and the heat and the lights; not to mention the food in the kitchen, and the clothes, soft bed, running water, washer and dryer...

Thank you, God, for the blessings you've provided, and for the future you have in store for me.  Thank You also for the furry blessings in our lives.

The twins' rhythmic breathing has given way to little grunts and snoring - always a smile-maker.  Their catnaps have been contagious over the past several days, and since I have been home on vacation days (LOVING not being 'you know where'), I have been 'purr-suaded' on more than one occasion to let the drowsiness carry me away.  This decadent lifestyle will be missed when the holidays are over and my vacation time runs out.

Until then, please pardon me while put my head down & close my eyes for just a moment. > ^ _ _ ^ <

A Good Year

Perhaps I should have called it, "A Momentous Year."  Or even, "A Year of Grand Change."  Oh, there are too many other titles to bestow on this year - always speaking in the familial - but it definitely was a year of accomplishment and change, tumult (the good sort) and beginnings/endings.

At this time of year it is common to concentrate on being thankful, on joyous celebrations of coming together, burying the hatchet, seeing the good in everyone (even if there is none in some folks to see).  It is the time folks reflect on the year as it races towards another finish line, and think themselves better off, or better people, or whatever form of improved they care to blind themselves with.

However, under the heading of "my sons," it truly was a year to be thankful for.

Karl graduated from junior college with 2 Associate's, and

Brian married his lovely friend and partner, Angela.
Even I was able to come by a full time job this year ('bout darn time!).

No, I won't spend paragraphs going on and on about any of this.  Suffice to say, thank you, God, for all of your love and goodness.

But I will ask: why does it seem as though the majority of us only wait until this time of the year to be thankful for the many blessings which come our way over the course of 365 days?  Shouldn't we be more diligent in our thanks, prayers, and praise when the blessings occur?  Think about it... then respond appropriately.

With love and gratitude -

25

Yesterday....my baby turned twenty-five.  25!   How does that happen?

Believe me when I say that I have been watching this one every step - every eyelash flutter - of the way, and I still have a hard time believing it.

When Brian turned twenty-five I felt it.  For some reason it seemed 'right', and it was believable - and perhaps I was more in tune and accepting of the march of time.  But Karl hitting this milestone seems incorrect somehow.  Maybe it's the Asperger's that has me incredulous.  It's deceiving.

At any rate, it has happened - happy 25th birthday my little bug!  I have loved every minute of it.

P.S.

By the way -

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, Malibu Barbie!

It's my little brother's birthday, again

You know that old expression, kid: "You're not getting older, you're getting better"?  Well, do ya?

One of us is getting older, Andy [finger's pointing at you - little booger in the middle], and one of us is getting better.

How's 50 feeling today?

Signs

Do you believe in 'signs'?

I don't mean "stop," "yield," "school zone," and so on.  I mean the sort of sign that fate - or the universe - hands you from time to time.

The sort of OBVIOUS smack upside the head with a two-by-four (proverbially or otherwise) that makes your inner squirrel sit up and say "huh?"

Ah-haaaa -- I sense some of you nodding with understanding. 

The lightbulb finally went on, did it? ;)

Well, all the powers that be took the time to get together in order to whallop me across the face with the biggest, stinkiest, wet fish ever to get this point across.

"What point?" you ask.

POINT: I am not to be doing script supervision any more - ESPECIALLY in the state of Michigan - and here's how I know:



Oh yes............crystal clear!

I mean, when your Rockports BOTH blow out...in EXACTLY the SAME place...on the SAME EVENING, while scaling the same rocky, re-bar-treacherous, asbestos-covered, cold rooftop of a derelict and arson-riddled building in Detroit, that's when you know the universe (and God - and His friend, Fate) want you to stop doing something.

Your wish is my command. [bowing]

October observations (of the feline sort)

Cleo - the epitome of a housebound tabby

Hobbes - the meticulously over-groomed foghorn

Flop - our opulent 'fraidy-cat'

Mmmmm...nummers!

Made salmon, eggplant parmesan (in a crockpot, no less - after pan-frying the eggplant), and crudites with homemade tzadziki!

I feel good and the boys are happy, so something must have turned out right. ;)

Days like this

I really should get rolling into more productive activities, but I just can't seem to shake this blase' feeling.

There's no reason for me to be bored, I have plenty to do, so that can't be 'it'.

Perhaps it's simply the heat - the oppressive, morbidly hot, highly unwelcome, sticky, relentless, disgusting, uncommon, inexhaustible heat.

Late last night it was still 83* - well after lights out - when it dawned on me that there was another smaller oscillating fan in storage. I quickly hustled to the garage and snagged it from the shelf; dusted it off and handed it to Karl to use in his room.

Despite two windows (and an under-sized ceiling fan), the air was as still as a corpse in his room - and that bothered me in that way in which only a mom can be bothered, you know?

Well, I think he finally managed to get comfortable at some point and drift off...with no help from that scrounged oscillating fan! That's right - it didn't work! After all of the finagling and cleaning and maneuvering, the darned thing was useless! We ended up moving the floor fan into his room and aiming it at the bed for the night. That did the trick.

And the broken oscillating junior you ask.......

Big news! Karl turns 23!!

My little sapling now has twenty-three rings.

Happy birthday, K-dub! Glad you're here on the planet with me.

^x.x^

'Nuff said.

Another one bites the dust - HEY!

Another one bites the dust - hey, HEY!

If you're keeping score, this makes three. And I saw another one come out of the hole in the stoop...so we're not through, yet.

What a relief!

Thank God!

Since my present line of unemployment was growing pretty boring.

Phwew! That's a load off.

Next interview I go to I'll just make myself at home, and when they ask why I am so confident I'll just smile and tell them: "My fortune cookie said so!"

Happy birthday.........to ME!

That's right, HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO ME!Take that, universe - I've still got it and I ROCK!

I REALLY don't want to study any more

I'd rather be outdoors in the garden (wet and dirty), or holding a sound stick - 18 floors up in a derelict, powerless Detroit building - than studying any more.

Really....I would!

Happy birthday, once again!

To my 'little' brother.

Psst...they say it's your birthday. Pass it on.

What happens

If Betty Crocker and Robert Heinlein had a love child, this is what it would look like.

When there's not enough time in your day (or flat space in your cooking area), you get creative. I think this is how Legos were born.

My kitchen counter is a monument to Heinlein futuristic high rise living. Eat your heart out - literally.