Thursday, July 30, 2015
Allow me to introduce to you my favorite Welshman, Scott. Isn't he adorable? Steph and Emma brought him along to my birthday bash a couple of weeks ago. I always appreciate having a kissable man around for, well, de rigueur birthday kissing purposes.
Because Scott's eyes were closed due to the blinding photo flash in the previous picture, I thought you might like to see his sparkly brown eyes. I know I enjoy seeing them and didn't want to seem selfish. Happy birthday to me! FYC* was off to a most fabulous start.
* Fiscal Year Carla
After a most enjoyable walking tour of downtown Columbus and the state capitol, nourishment was required. We sat at the bar at Dirty Frank's Hot Dog Palace and drank RC Cola with our hot dogs. I had Lara's Pittsburgh Princess, split and grilled and topped with slaw and french fries and a side of onion rings. I haven't eaten a hot dog in ages so this was a perfectly tasty way to end that fast. We were observed from atop the bar by a most interesting collection of a different sort of dog. Please, no jokes about sausage or cannibalism.
This is me with my handsome, somewhat goofy, and host extraordinaire, cousin Cory. We have been gleefully quaffing margaritas from tiny Mason jars. Jargaritas, if you will. I shall be forever grateful to him for introducing me to Miss Brenda. And please ignore my wayward bangs, it rained and there simply were not enough anti-frizz products in my hair.
Wednesday, July 29, 2015
Another thing Steinie loved was shoes. Lounging on them, sniffing them, cuddling up with them. When he was tiny he could climb inside the younger son's sneaker, turn completely around, and end up with his head sticking out. A common cat trick, but still. I know I have pics of Steinie loving up shoes but can't for the life of me find one to post. So here he is enjoying towels. I loved this cat so damn much.
Tuesday, July 21, 2015
So I bought carpet today. For my living room. In a lovely beige plush shag. Because it seems the kitty cat smell, which ironically before cleaning was barely noticeable, was brought into full bloom by the heat/water/detergent processes. Bleah. I also have a new listing agent. The sign is gone from my yard. My expectation is that this will go much, much better the second time around. I am going on vacation. No, I am not made of money. Maybe I'll find a magical tree on my road trip. When I get home, there shall be new carpet. It coordinates beautifully with the Mocha Suede wall color. Which makes my home almost international in flavor. It's so neutral now it could be Switzerland.
Monday, July 20, 2015
I know, the time on the clock that indicates my birthday happens twice a day, every day. The reason that these are special is that the pictures were taken on my actual birthday eleven days ago. This is the lower right corner of my Chromebook.
Of course I wouldn't lie to you! My phone indicates the date as well.
I suppose I should have cropped out the sloppy food splotches on the stove before I took the pic. Or grabbed the dishrag and cleaned them up. But there wasn't time! And it proves that I cook.
And here we have the microwave at 7:09, on 7-09. Aren't you glad you stopped by today?
Sunday, July 19, 2015
As of yesterday, this single-click test says I have less than two weeks remaining to be single. I think I was compelled to click because I was drawn in by the pink alarm clock. In twelve days I will be on vacation. I've never had a romance while traveling so the idea is intriguing. If we're being practical, I am road-tripping in an easterly direction while planning a westerly relocation of residence. Then there's the unavoidable fact that the only men I currently know in Columbus, Ohio are either gay, related to me, or both. My life is so interesting.
Thursday, July 16, 2015
I am so fortunate. Regarding the emotional rollercoaster of life I've been riding the last few weeks, I have today found my way off of this most troublesome ride. The fortunate part isn't the mere disembarking, which in itself is such a relief, but the help and guidance from some pretty amazing women that I call friends. Two days ago it was Karen, last night it was Steph, and this morning Jill. In the last week or so it was dear sisters Martine and Pam, and then Lisa. Also the loves from my AndiGirlz. Your patient ears and wisdom and support while I blubber and tear up are appreciated beyond any demonstration of thanks I can offer. And even though they they bear a Y chromosome, Cory belongs in this group as does Tom who sometimes comments here. Also my beamish boy Reid who has been dubiously blessed with a mom who is a self-described crier. He manages my teary asides so very well. Thanks to all of you. I am heartened, shored up, and wobbly but upright.
Wednesday, July 15, 2015
Three traits about Einstein that I neglected to mention earlier...forehead-bumper, counter-climber, corner-sitter. I just thought you'd like to know. Last evening Steinie was laid to rest under a maple tree in a far corner of Karen's huge yard. Grass will grow over the spot by summer's end. If the disturbed ground can heal, so shall I.
Tuesday, July 14, 2015
So sad to report that Steinie has passed. At just before three this morning he quietly and peacefully breathed his last after being cradled in my arms since midnight. I knew his time was near when he allowed me to complete the Sunday crossword without sprawling across the newspaper to demand attention from me. My tape-licking, tuna-loving, glasses-destroying tux who adored flowers and pined for my hoya plant whose favorite toy was a bottle cap is gone. I loved him so much. If the saying is true that dogs have masters, cats have staff, I am honored to have served him for nearly nine years.
Sunday, July 12, 2015
Last night I was out with Andrea and Jill to celebrate their shared birthday. What a lovely way to wind up my birthday week! Interestingly enough, when we moved out to the patio after dinner, the bartender confessed that he also has a July birthday and rolled up his sleeve to show off his symbolic crab tattoo. Andrea squealed and revealed her very similar tattoo. I described my tattoo of a blue crescent moon with the crab symbol nestled in its inside curve. But didn't show it due to the fact that said tat is located on my tummy and I was wearing a dress. I may burp loud and swear like a sailor, but I'm a lady, dammit! Even I have boundaries. I wouldn't be surprised if Jill is meeting with an artist at this very second to design her crab tattoo. This is a way cool club to be a member of and I'm certain she wants in.
Thursday, July 9, 2015
Wednesday, July 8, 2015
Seriously, I'm making up little cards with this on it. I'll hand them to people when out in public or at social gatherings. This approach may be effective, could also fall flat on its face. I think it's better than blurting out some random thing that clears the room, leaving the two or three people I'd enjoy chatting with.
Monday, July 6, 2015
I much prefer Linda Holmes' take on Inside Out than Alva Noe's. Maybe this illustrates the innate differences between the sexes. Maybe Mr. Noe overthinks everything and doesn't know how to have fun. Or is incapable of suspending his sense of disbelief long enough to be entertained. I'm thinking his joy is bound and gagged somewhere in the recesses of his long-term memory and has been replaced by analytical control freak. Rendering him unable to enjoy anything. All I know is, my son who attended the film with me told me they totally nailed what goes on inside the adolescent male brain when Riley speaks to the boy who dropped his water bottle. I can't wait for the sequel when the puberty button is deployed.
Sunday, July 5, 2015
I have just returned home after a much enjoyable movie experience. Inside Out is just terrific. But I must warn you. You actually cross the catbrane! So now I know that it is possible to survive the trip there and back. That is all. Except, all five emotions, joy, sadness, fear, disgust, and (mild) anger were thoroughly explored in the food incident following the movie. And all I have to say about that is, I do enjoy finding bacon in my food. But when it is something that sort of remotely resembles bacon after spitting out a gristly, rawish, unchewable thing onto the side of your plate, that is very bad. Disgust was at the helm, and an hour later, may still be. A palate-cleansing beer seems to be in order. I won't be visiting that fruit-insect named restaurant any time again soon. Do go see Inside Out, though. It's great.
Saturday, July 4, 2015
This has been a week that in no uncertain terms has slapped me up and reminded me that I'm alive. Unflinchingly and unapologetically. No matter how much time you have to prepare for the death of someone you love it stings when the sad news finally arrives. Add the failing health of a pet into the mix. The ongoing background stresses of selling the house and resolving the lawsuit. Then last night that started out as an adventure but deteriorated into an ordeal. I'm functioning on maybe four hours of sleep and that does not help my sluggish sadness. Still, I'm ready to launch into my birthday week with renewed spirits. Like newspapermen in long ago days would say, let's put this issue to bed. Along with this last week. And soon, me.
Thursday, July 2, 2015
I have pondered about the possibility/probability of early oral antibiotic use and if it might have something to do with the subsequent development of celiac disease. Well, looky here! At least one study shows it just might be so. Further studies may confirm this preliminary finding. I guess we'll see. I always find it interesting when I'm thinking about something that others also are considering. Like this guy. It occurred to me based on a sample much too small to be statistically valid. Two children. My children. The elder of whom was plagued with inner ear infections for a year or so when he was a toddler. He downed a lot of that bubble gum flavored amoxicillin for that period of time. And it may be strictly a case of correlation, but he was diagnosed with celiac disease several months ago. As for the younger son, he was not prescribed a course of antibiotics until he was five and a half years old, the only time he has taken them. He does not have celiac disease. Certainly the digestive system is more mature at that age than at just a few months old, and perhaps better able to recover from the broad spectrum onslaught of the valuable gut flora that we all host. When I was preschool age and suffering from tonsillitis, I vividly recall the car ride home from the clinic perched crankily on the unassailed butt cheek that had not been poked with a large gauge needle to deliver a shot of penicillin. Not that I would wish more needle pokes on any child, but the much more pleasant oral version may cause more pain down the line.
Wednesday, July 1, 2015
There he is, my pretty boy. I don't remember when I started calling him that but the why should be apparent. A week ago I thoroughly traumatized him with a trip to the vet to address his weight loss issue. He was diagnosed with a likely kidney infection. Then I further traumatized him with administering antibiotics in pill form to treat the infection. He was not happy about this. We switched to liquid amoxicillin a couple of days later. Steinie had figured out how to cough up the pill it took two adults to poke down his throat. The liquid was easier to get into him and seemed to be helping. But just as antibiotics can have an adverse effect on the human gut, so do they affect the feline gut. He has the runs and wasn't interested in eating his treats and has been having trouble keeping down what little food he does eat. This morning I decided the trauma of medication would stop. Einstein is still very loving and cuddly and gets around like a cat half his age. But it's clear that he is on a downward trend. I'm choosing to love him and comfort him as best I can and if he seems to be suffering at all to make one final trip to see the vet. I know that there are so many huge problems in the world and this is tiny by comparison. But the loss of a beloved pet tugs at your heart like nothing else. Pardon me while I nestle in with my pretty boy and decline to answer the door.