tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-89689072024-03-14T11:24:33.149-06:00Jessie's Girloh, i wish that i wasUnknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger407125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8968907.post-43156422221395556122011-04-04T19:51:00.003-06:002011-04-04T20:09:07.236-06:00Do not fear the pineapple.Tonight I stood at my kitchen island, barefoot on the cool hardwood floor, cat at my elbow, cutting up a pineapple. This is significant for a couple of reasons: One, I've recently started slowly replacing chocolate and peanut butter with fresh fruit -- not an easy or unremarkable task. In <span style="font-style: italic;">my</span> life, kind of a big deal. And two, because I realized I had never before, in my 15 years as a single woman, cut up a pineapple. "How is this possible?" I wondered, followed immediately by, "...and how the hell do I know what I'm doing?" Because I don't know if you've noticed, but cutting up a pineapple is not intuitive. I realized that while I have not, myself, ever held knife to pineapple, I have watched more than one man do the deed before me, while I have sat, elbows on the counter, wide-eyed and impressed. <span style="font-style: italic;">W.T. ever-loving-F</span>.??<br /><br />Then I started thinking about what else I've never done for myself, that I most certainly could. I've never shoveled snow. I've lived in Colorado for almost five years, through five winters, and I've never scraped a snow shovel on my own driveway. Could I? Well, I'm sure I could! But...why, when I could simply implore a man to do it, or better yet, live somewhere with snow removal included in the rent? I'm sure there are many other such things in life of which I am more than capable, but for one reason or another, I've always depended on others to fulfill. Aaaaaaand that's how a simple post about the pleasure of slicing fruit turns into something too deep to tackle on a Monday night.<br /><br />So for now, I leave you with this thought: <span style="font-style: italic;"> Just what else might you be capable of? </span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8968907.post-11234871719932277312010-12-05T16:10:00.002-07:002010-12-05T16:25:32.709-07:00long time gone.So. I have been gone a while, from this blog. You could even say, from life, overall. I have not been present, really. I have been living inside of myself, floundering around, taking stock, occasionally reaching outward for help, but most of the time not... The past two years of my life have been perhaps the hardest ever. And in a lot of ways, I have faced them alone. Not because I have not been surrounded by the love of my friends, not because I did not have access to help, but because I chose to keep a lot of it buried inside. Not all -- there has been ugliness for all to see, and some to comment on, even gloat over. But for the most part, it has been a personal battle I've been fighting. As much as I do share, I keep more hidden.<br /><br />That said, I would not still be here if not for the support of many, and you know who you are. If this all sounds very cryptic -- sorry, that's the way it is for now. I don't think anyone even reads this blog anymore, and honestly, I'm not altogether sure I will keep it alive. I am not quite sure why I'm here now, except that I'm sitting in the dark, at my little townhome, a cat purring on my feet, watching winter out the window, and feeling contemplative as the holidays encroach. And I don't know about you, but the holidays always make me think back upon the past year. Thank God I am in a very different place than this time last year. A much better place. Alone. But better.<br /><br />This time last year I felt anything but merry. And not that I'm jumping for joy this December, but at least I'm no longer up late googling "how to change your identity and start over" or "how to run away". The chaos is not over yet, but one way or another, I should be able to put it all behind me come Christmas.<br /><br />I say I'm alone this year, but really, I'm not. I may be living alone (and thank God for that), but I am not alone in my heart. It's ironic, really, that last year, I was surrounded by many, in my own house, but had never felt so alone. Ever. This year, it's me and Piper, and we're doing just fine. I do not feel lonely at all. Last year I felt despair. This year I -- almost, at least -- feel hope.<br /><br />It will take a while for my finances to heal, for some damaged relationships to right themselves, but at least my heart is intact, even full. I am grateful for that. And I have those friends and family who have stood with me through all of it. There are also those that haven't, but then again, I hid a lot of what was going on. Even those who know "everything"? Don't. And probably never will.<br /><br />This past year I have been despondent. Humiliated. Horrified. Indignant. Enraged. Morose. But I'm still holding my head up, moving forward.<br /><br />Hooray for that.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8968907.post-4244560802319139142009-06-20T20:30:00.003-06:002009-06-20T20:34:59.671-06:00The Great Turning, by Jennifer Lauck<span style="font-style: italic;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">Note: This was written by Jennifer Lauck, an author who I greatly admire. It spoke to me, so I am sharing it. I am re-posting it from her blog. Maybe it will speak to you, too...</span><br /></span><p><i><br /></i></p><p><i>When your life becomes unbearable to you, it is inevitable you will turn inward. You can medicate or distract yourself, for a while, but eventually these alternatives will become unbearable as well.<br /><br />Then you will turn inward and examine your choices, your experiences, your history and your culture.<br /><br />There is no easy way to do this turning. In fact, it might be the hardest thing you will ever do. This is because your turning will be aggravating those who know you. They will be inconvenienced. They will not understand. They might even accuse you of being crazy, cruel and/or selfish. This is because you are now paying attention to yourself and not them. Yes, that will be upsetting.<br /><br />But none of what they say or even believe matters in the end because, in the end, someone will pay the highest price for your unbearable life, if it goes unexamined, and that person will be you. </i></p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8968907.post-73249527846190324852009-05-27T14:45:00.003-06:002009-05-27T15:05:07.808-06:00honestly.I don't know if i'll post this. But I need to say it. I have SO MUCH I could be saying right now, getting it out of my body and out into the universe, but I am constantly censoring myself. And I'm not sure why; I didn't used to have a problem putting my inner thoughts out into the Internet-sphere! Read the archives if you don't believe me! But now that I think about it, I do know when this self-censoring started. It started when I became a couple. Like, for reals. When I merged my life with R's, I began holding back on this blog. I think I did it naturally at first, out of a misguided sense of respect, maybe? Privacy? But see, <span style="font-style: italic;">blogging</span> and <span style="font-style: italic;">privacy</span> don't exactly go together. And I was honest with him, from the start -- he knew I had a blog, and he thought it was cool. Maybe that was the problem; maybe I didn't want to share my deep inner thoughts with him before he knew me better? I don't even know anymore. I just know that I feel like I'm going to explode these days, and it's not fair to burden <span style="font-weight: bold;">just</span> R with all of this shite all the time. So! Aren't you excited??? Here goes!! (aside: not to knock the cute kitty photo blogs, i know my cats are cute and fascinating and all, but srsly).<br /><br />As I write this, R is at a job interview. A very important one. One that he wants, one that would be very good for us. One that he would actually enjoy. So naturally, he was nervous yesterday after it was set, and very restless last night, and then this morning, instead of looking in his earnest brown eyes and telling him confidently that he ROCKED and that he would be GREAT and NAIL the interview, that they would LOVE him like I do, instead? I suggested he change his tie. erm. Worst Fiancee Ever Award? Right here.<br /><br />The interview is supposed to last until about 4:30. So we're about 2 1/2 hours in at this point. And I haven't heard from him, which is good, right?? RIGHT??? anyway.<br /><br />If you hadn't gathered, things are pretty grim these days, in the area of employment. For both of us. At least he has bites, though. I do have a contract coming, one I flew to TX to train for last week, but it will probably be at least a week before I get the actual work. Even then, it's not full-time or self-supporting, but damn, it's SOMETHING. I so wish I could somehow enjoy my state of unemployment, you know? Why is it that throughout life, you have either money or time, but never both? God, I could be having SUCH a great time if only I had money right now. Do I miss my stressful day job? Hell no! But I sure miss the regular paycheck. And the awesome co-workers. So there's that.<br /><br />Also, I'm not sure when exactly I became such a pessimist, but man. I can't seem to find the bright side of things these days. And I'm still rather pissed about the outcome of American Idol. Adam was robbed. Nothing against Kris, really, he has almost-equal airtime on my ipod these days. I just don't think he should have won. Because AI is important, people.<br /><br />and that is all.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8968907.post-12926904839565333352009-05-17T21:59:00.004-06:002009-05-17T22:20:20.642-06:00Antics in the forbidden zoneThis post is primarily about Bella. Bella, the sweet <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">muffincakes</span> who has turned our semi-harmonious cat-family into a den of chaos and mayhem.<br /><br />For example, Bella likes to hide where she's not supposed to be.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgTtVOct7SVhn60VwaAtqdavELiXMNJQWci-lgvI39hPttU5V7-dcVi1AcXG2wVfUEeimbRwWEqRZvwWw4j2EmNTDT8BdqTeisDzIK80ez-rtxpHS2hgStsoDyAz7gtS4gnaEp/s1600-h/DSC_0005.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 213px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgTtVOct7SVhn60VwaAtqdavELiXMNJQWci-lgvI39hPttU5V7-dcVi1AcXG2wVfUEeimbRwWEqRZvwWw4j2EmNTDT8BdqTeisDzIK80ez-rtxpHS2hgStsoDyAz7gtS4gnaEp/s320/DSC_0005.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5337010208359213746" border="0" /></a>Do you see her? Let me give you a hint: look carefully among the FRESHLY FOLDED SHEETS AND TOWELS:<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhi5eJjXAMzpfDqm1CO5QkQ7BSFhsGw2AT2n39vkNcR-9-KfIZMRNLx4ZvMFtSrU8J3s34yvKEM-2dcwo9K5VxZT2Zw7x3bVWfRbzLJvPoB1HPAoZeisjNWSDOoYwOnvtKSLjRv/s1600-h/DSC_0010.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhi5eJjXAMzpfDqm1CO5QkQ7BSFhsGw2AT2n39vkNcR-9-KfIZMRNLx4ZvMFtSrU8J3s34yvKEM-2dcwo9K5VxZT2Zw7x3bVWfRbzLJvPoB1HPAoZeisjNWSDOoYwOnvtKSLjRv/s320/DSC_0010.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5337010209501771874" border="0" /></a>It's a good thing she's cute.<br /><br />We have also managed to catch another of her favorite activities on film, and our sudden and stern presence (with a camera) did nothing to stem her fierce determination.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnuhF0p7YNFME3QXcg-Hsxr4hGN3zbc7ja-DnC_kuhpfTAmeYyVb2UnIzKs3XkBXoSkimb2n9G93E2dGcKj7gsbvSqfdh4XenrlSC6r6jBZ-MZN-wju7t6x6Ya2VaLAPHZ9QQ8/s1600-h/DSC_0019.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 213px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnuhF0p7YNFME3QXcg-Hsxr4hGN3zbc7ja-DnC_kuhpfTAmeYyVb2UnIzKs3XkBXoSkimb2n9G93E2dGcKj7gsbvSqfdh4XenrlSC6r6jBZ-MZN-wju7t6x6Ya2VaLAPHZ9QQ8/s320/DSC_0019.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5337010215362962690" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3JJvzAP4rXAyNN80phCjU0pujuCv9CUtwQaK-KjGY-RzIIvdAaKSMnXMEiqqjeuNkZ0FgFGxcuDYpgAmmmjsZ63hsgkdZK-USomCgEr96ZneM49GVEIP_fUG2Z2b4S3u5LSkA/s1600-h/DSC_0020.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 213px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3JJvzAP4rXAyNN80phCjU0pujuCv9CUtwQaK-KjGY-RzIIvdAaKSMnXMEiqqjeuNkZ0FgFGxcuDYpgAmmmjsZ63hsgkdZK-USomCgEr96ZneM49GVEIP_fUG2Z2b4S3u5LSkA/s320/DSC_0020.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5337010215126215426" border="0" /></a>While you can see a glimpse of Hank's tail in photo #1, he would like everyone to know he had NOTHING to do with these shenanigans. NOTHING.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgC-KwzXLdVCbUi7rWD8XRxzoOjEJ-K1YzPyIpg0DgM-AYzPHcXTelWQZ97zB7ilnKlfSFwwI4-DNbx3p8QVOV-31XE1RflV0uTLbR8e7Gfj7U3xjxxpyHBjW48buUhBVMR8yb8/s1600-h/DSC_0112.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgC-KwzXLdVCbUi7rWD8XRxzoOjEJ-K1YzPyIpg0DgM-AYzPHcXTelWQZ97zB7ilnKlfSFwwI4-DNbx3p8QVOV-31XE1RflV0uTLbR8e7Gfj7U3xjxxpyHBjW48buUhBVMR8yb8/s320/DSC_0112.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5337011583328322066" border="0" /></a>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8968907.post-22909583489553132972009-05-12T22:38:00.004-06:002009-05-12T22:54:04.629-06:00Wild kingdom, CO-styleThis spring, we made a very wise investment: a $14.99 birdfeeder from Target. This investment has provided many a cheap thrill and much low-cost entertainment via what we have deemed "Kitteh TV", a/k/a the drama that unfolds outside the back door, as viewed from the cat perch.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-WH9wE0xMQ0AdVTnsaBgp4eDH5sMW-QVthB8nzGFG38-kiedgbbc1a4nOCP4a3sythsQSwK2uXTW9q9bHMhluFDsfphevQzhVW7QCZf6vaOWbyUABS3OIiLG57LGRZk-BssiP/s1600-h/DSC_0033.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 213px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-WH9wE0xMQ0AdVTnsaBgp4eDH5sMW-QVthB8nzGFG38-kiedgbbc1a4nOCP4a3sythsQSwK2uXTW9q9bHMhluFDsfphevQzhVW7QCZf6vaOWbyUABS3OIiLG57LGRZk-BssiP/s320/DSC_0033.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5335165597050350002" border="0" /></a>Besides the obvious, birds, we have a baby bunny...<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxymC2lZ-tMJtWDOwxrB9VDb3xwa8Y82dIkGiZ26toOmdZf-hf7ctU8mucLoeVOk61YV5KZGF61V4i5svlOH9P_hIsdcbJwmhgHiimx4RIRLxNjUkbnfnGbjyo5CUr9BX3bnc1/s1600-h/DSC_0092.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxymC2lZ-tMJtWDOwxrB9VDb3xwa8Y82dIkGiZ26toOmdZf-hf7ctU8mucLoeVOk61YV5KZGF61V4i5svlOH9P_hIsdcbJwmhgHiimx4RIRLxNjUkbnfnGbjyo5CUr9BX3bnc1/s320/DSC_0092.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5335165605301070706" border="0" /></a><br />This never fails to bring a smile to Hank's face.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5yoE9DzrW98ye7RAuT1Lky8PdR9CGACoMJ8wyBVcw2jBvXrm0H_2rBtu4zqMNMbdjFaDIxm7jB88883_srObDNYligaYuugYh1BqFJqrBn_FfKLfRuf3vlj8dfBDMh10wqX7k/s1600-h/DSC_0059.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5yoE9DzrW98ye7RAuT1Lky8PdR9CGACoMJ8wyBVcw2jBvXrm0H_2rBtu4zqMNMbdjFaDIxm7jB88883_srObDNYligaYuugYh1BqFJqrBn_FfKLfRuf3vlj8dfBDMh10wqX7k/s320/DSC_0059.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5335165600543409778" border="0" /></a>But then tonight, we got a new visitor...<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7OqsmC6VsZjw6Kk7HwQFsd8CFXq4DPqtxe4NE6hP2e-VdP_JrD7rg9283ARFo1Kwy786fQSpay9ZEvH2d4M8zCVxKtyRPlvpve27oIUwffELqTBGFLdoUs4N0hv2F3rpJZFQJ/s1600-h/DSC_0100.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7OqsmC6VsZjw6Kk7HwQFsd8CFXq4DPqtxe4NE6hP2e-VdP_JrD7rg9283ARFo1Kwy786fQSpay9ZEvH2d4M8zCVxKtyRPlvpve27oIUwffELqTBGFLdoUs4N0hv2F3rpJZFQJ/s320/DSC_0100.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5335165607813944642" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfYgCVmLU37dAZWlxPnE7IR1cL8IPfXVXakSaAK3htM3vwLVXGS7gB7PgH2dnw5hbrTQc20yRkzq-rvryIb5AMGP5VwrTlnSRbyTJdiWwFrcMTdPNzbSwGJzQWOCFX89lMW_D2/s1600-h/DSC_0106.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 213px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfYgCVmLU37dAZWlxPnE7IR1cL8IPfXVXakSaAK3htM3vwLVXGS7gB7PgH2dnw5hbrTQc20yRkzq-rvryIb5AMGP5VwrTlnSRbyTJdiWwFrcMTdPNzbSwGJzQWOCFX89lMW_D2/s320/DSC_0106.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5335165611184320194" border="0" /></a>He thought he was being pretty sneaky...<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzQVHizlxDWk6ktQGEaMBKtPE9v57ZvhCnpvxTYByenN18J6UAX_TA2iSUXv9fDLev48DEEx4K6K4rCAUDM5cAd8kCTgCgcydRUgI1dNVT0LvVkslc81ZTXOS34IhEUc5JyrAG/s1600-h/DSC_0108.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 213px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzQVHizlxDWk6ktQGEaMBKtPE9v57ZvhCnpvxTYByenN18J6UAX_TA2iSUXv9fDLev48DEEx4K6K4rCAUDM5cAd8kCTgCgcydRUgI1dNVT0LvVkslc81ZTXOS34IhEUc5JyrAG/s320/DSC_0108.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5335166421026069282" border="0" /></a>But then he realized he was being watched.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDdba8O-3E7h7Gg_k-__wIeKxmVnGCHpxCHLn2bSTOhxLX7Y49uJJcvBEqce6F3WFNBEy_YSkLvY3B8dbF5LTUk0uTzK2-8EntnWwYj_of3Bdk8XE3FbW_9BbVFnEhcqT8Rh5S/s1600-h/DSC_0111.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 213px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDdba8O-3E7h7Gg_k-__wIeKxmVnGCHpxCHLn2bSTOhxLX7Y49uJJcvBEqce6F3WFNBEy_YSkLvY3B8dbF5LTUk0uTzK2-8EntnWwYj_of3Bdk8XE3FbW_9BbVFnEhcqT8Rh5S/s320/DSC_0111.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5335166425174921410" border="0" /></a><br />We don't want to wait and see who wins this one. We have little kids bordering our yard on all sides, so we might need to nip this one in the bud.<br /><br />Any ideas???Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8968907.post-52621982269137577832009-05-10T17:41:00.002-06:002009-05-10T17:48:36.509-06:00lazy sunday: checkWe did nothing today, really, and I'm just fine with that. Yesterday was busy; we drove to the Springs, visited the step grandkids, then went to the home of K&K for dinner and disco dancing. SRSLY. There were homemade margs (thanks, K1!) and loud rave music (thanks, K2!) and dancing and -- ouch, I can still feel it in odd parts of my anatomy, but it was fuuuuun. We also received a very thorough demo of the Wii Fit (thanks, K2!) and I can't wait to have an income again so I can get me one!<br /><br />So comparatively, today was tame. My body is a little bit sore and my mind is a little bit bored. I have nothing interesting to report. Dinner is in the oven. I clipped coupons. I made juice in my juicer. I brushed 2 of the 3 kittehs. See, those things just aren't that bloggable, so I guess I'll go now. I'm really just trying to stay in the habit of blogging, as i know how easily it can fall by the wayside. Until then...Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8968907.post-37849619820344497452009-05-09T01:30:00.003-06:002009-05-09T01:43:19.721-06:00nightNighttime has become something to dread. This is odd for me, because by nature I am a night owl. But lately, nighttime seems more lonely and tends to stretch endlessly til dawn. R and I are on different internal schedules, due to my unemployed status and his non-unemployed status. So he goes to sleep before me and rises before me. This is all fine, but I find myself now, at 1:30am, curled up in the bed next to my snoring fiance, typing in the soft glow of 48 hours mystery on the tv. There are two cats entwined between us, leaning against me and bathing each other with all the seriousness that kittens can muster. Their measured laps create a sweet rhythm in the dark, and periodically I reach over and pet one of them reassuringly. My hand comes away slick with cat spit.<br /><br />I just caught Hank gazing at me in the dark with his intense yellow eyes, as if to say "thank you, mama, for giving me my very own bella to love." You're welcome, my feline son.<br /><br />+++++++++++++++++<br /><br />Tomorrow morning we will drive to Col. Springs to visit R's youngest grandkids, L (1 1/2) and C (6 months). Neither of them can talk yet, so the issue of what to call me has not presented itself; but I think I want to be "Miss Lisa". Reasonable, no? I am NOT their "Grandmother", and it's not that I hate the ancient connotations that go with that term (although please - I'm not even 40! or related by blood!). It's that I have not earned such a title. No spawn have passed through my body and I have raised nothing but felines of dubious character. I don't think it's fair to hold that title when it's not accurate. What do you think?Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8968907.post-40417046892338431802009-05-05T14:11:00.007-06:002009-05-05T14:29:58.753-06:00eeeek.So. Here we are, eons later.<br /><br />I don't even know where to start, but here goes... since I have had numerous requests to get my blog going again. And since I've become somewhat reclusive during the past few months, maybe this will be a good way to update inquiring minds?<br /><br />I haven't written anything for public consumption in - oh - forever, so I'm a little rusty. I am going to lame-out and go with a bulleted format, just to state a few important items... each one could probably be an entire blog entry itself, but this is why I've put off updating for so long -- it's simply overwhelming. This is about all I can manage for now:<br /><br /><ul><li>Hank is large.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjr0blGFsqmyFkgAd-AWv2jF_nxyV70SCzfOC_sToxe7eUvvFik51gsetoq6maBdH0oe2YNljwemru4Q1w2JL6MbhpNlUWGaFc1HFt9gYPN9rDLCwhWMuP9Xtg5IA6a5T_2ahxa/s1600-h/DSC_0143.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 213px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjr0blGFsqmyFkgAd-AWv2jF_nxyV70SCzfOC_sToxe7eUvvFik51gsetoq6maBdH0oe2YNljwemru4Q1w2JL6MbhpNlUWGaFc1HFt9gYPN9rDLCwhWMuP9Xtg5IA6a5T_2ahxa/s320/DSC_0143.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5332437365648180418" border="0" /></a>Like 13 pounds large, and just now a year old! He is hysterical. We lurve him. also, he has a new girlfriend, since Piper wasn't being very cougar-like...</li><li>Introducing: Bella!<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZBqpu7roB1elCmWcYLRmlBSZ6zMIblostSXvWJGK4Kye2wOEss_9I0ePSkQWyIVKSOUO-Rrsxm8-nzl-Bq8AWEy8dqOq7B0IWgp7URnOmFMG7LVGwHguOBanICiFyEyXQtaQn/s1600-h/DSC_0217.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZBqpu7roB1elCmWcYLRmlBSZ6zMIblostSXvWJGK4Kye2wOEss_9I0ePSkQWyIVKSOUO-Rrsxm8-nzl-Bq8AWEy8dqOq7B0IWgp7URnOmFMG7LVGwHguOBanICiFyEyXQtaQn/s320/DSC_0217.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5332436920166092322" border="0" /></a><br />She is about 6 1/2 months old, and she was an accident. An unplanned addition to the family, if you will. She comes from dubious roots, from a vague Craigslist ad in Col. Springs. R's youngest daughter adopted her in a fit of pet craving, then realized a few hours into it that she is still quite allergic to cats. We inherited Bella the next day. Though reluctant at first, we are now Bella-enthusiasts and can't imagine life with her. Neither can Hank...<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjB0z-RZTfHSGpWpDbGRrbKKjmJujFx5kseUQhbAz8EaGu6gfnmt4CqlaXgmwb_X-HeCchG0iOguoWMGDMKFK5tzkfP7Q0dFeFhaNoyI5blgjwW51zojmo0CeoM-MehUhqyxhUR/s1600-h/DSC_0163.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjB0z-RZTfHSGpWpDbGRrbKKjmJujFx5kseUQhbAz8EaGu6gfnmt4CqlaXgmwb_X-HeCchG0iOguoWMGDMKFK5tzkfP7Q0dFeFhaNoyI5blgjwW51zojmo0CeoM-MehUhqyxhUR/s320/DSC_0163.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5332437141218016050" border="0" /></a><br /></li><li>In January, I once again became a statistic when my company did layoffs. While I am in good company, I am most assuredly looking for a new writing gig, whether that be full time or freelance. I am restless and anxious. But I don't want this post to focus on that right now. So, moving on... (although - if you have any leads, I will be your best friend forever - if i'm not already ;)<br /></li><li>I am getting married this October on a cruise with close friends and family, although I am not actively planning the "wedding" part of it due to a lack of finances and inspiration. The two are intrinsically linked, btw. However, the cruise is still on, one way or another...</li></ul>I know there is a lot more. A LOT more I'm not saying. But this is a good start, no? One big thing I've been contemplating is where to go with blogging in general. Do I want to keep this personal blog, or make a new one with a different focus? Do I want to continue to blog as myself, or go anonymous? I am struggling with the global blogging dilemma of how honest I can be when I'm blasting my thoughts into the ether.<br /><br />Until next time...Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8968907.post-74109002023291133142008-10-17T12:39:00.005-06:002008-10-17T12:51:41.952-06:00It is time. Way past time, actually...I am stunned that I have not posted since August. And I apologize for never posting part 2 of the last post. Pictures tend to speak louder than words, so I am going to introduce you to the newest member of the family via photograph. Meet..........................Hank. :)<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4aaiPc2Rm-wKP1und463llmGYoJ-tVPt6TDFmAMWHQj4Mrj8ocedYEAskQVz2twLfWOhFIktcaqW9HPxoQU2XU5dZs3RuSW1pDUwpahZCCugbVqpDh8Jv8tUHIwB8LPJ6qjQe/s1600-h/DSC01011.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4aaiPc2Rm-wKP1und463llmGYoJ-tVPt6TDFmAMWHQj4Mrj8ocedYEAskQVz2twLfWOhFIktcaqW9HPxoQU2XU5dZs3RuSW1pDUwpahZCCugbVqpDh8Jv8tUHIwB8LPJ6qjQe/s320/DSC01011.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5258196602728254834" border="0" /></a>brand new, baby hank.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmPXXM5tTyOOOSfSoQEvsXbbkKNYy_vru4Gfbo_2_aj2eI7kT3YOeHKHlR1OM_zaCEecBVnooUoFTLMUo8f_jUVgesPfkAefj1vhj2l-KORwv9QmXaviAIrfvQI5LvJE5VI6A8/s1600-h/DSC01017.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmPXXM5tTyOOOSfSoQEvsXbbkKNYy_vru4Gfbo_2_aj2eI7kT3YOeHKHlR1OM_zaCEecBVnooUoFTLMUo8f_jUVgesPfkAefj1vhj2l-KORwv9QmXaviAIrfvQI5LvJE5VI6A8/s320/DSC01017.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5258196279996214946" border="0" /></a>baby hank scaling the birdcage.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5XFfLhL7R0Swi-u8USs2WYuN6juSiT-diw5TM4FJVv37Fp_XokaXJ8HYtwtJpFKcWJleU-acjDhpVrr0kzWGbOD2tcgVOrDWxGT90Qlj-59w7bNRhnyVVs54hgoMK127fdqkk/s1600-h/DSCN2334.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5XFfLhL7R0Swi-u8USs2WYuN6juSiT-diw5TM4FJVv37Fp_XokaXJ8HYtwtJpFKcWJleU-acjDhpVrr0kzWGbOD2tcgVOrDWxGT90Qlj-59w7bNRhnyVVs54hgoMK127fdqkk/s320/DSCN2334.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5258196290049566306" border="0" /></a>mid-size hank helping me work in my home office.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5Y-Cszz54HYrWEeZkg25jm8RjI96-OmLQNYPrPiRyBFmQEGOkF66uHkDheAV97krIMSX0Et3o7JLMuNtb8DLdxfFDQs0NulMVzW7wFZXMfw1DIp_wba0HrEla-nNWoWFurFMU/s1600-h/DSCN2389.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5Y-Cszz54HYrWEeZkg25jm8RjI96-OmLQNYPrPiRyBFmQEGOkF66uHkDheAV97krIMSX0Et3o7JLMuNtb8DLdxfFDQs0NulMVzW7wFZXMfw1DIp_wba0HrEla-nNWoWFurFMU/s320/DSCN2389.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5258196291315106930" border="0" /></a>sleepy hank.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3rYINSsGjXJEbP1Vj8DelDuLE9wNSVFiO3moSDmi3MKn6USqZT2UxxuF1KhHay7AAYyePOXaZYv1I7KVQC5J1AQxhAKAMTSXy8k2BqQsszn1Bm718FvkNQk9oF4D2RNcdBRLD/s1600-h/DSCN2402.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3rYINSsGjXJEbP1Vj8DelDuLE9wNSVFiO3moSDmi3MKn6USqZT2UxxuF1KhHay7AAYyePOXaZYv1I7KVQC5J1AQxhAKAMTSXy8k2BqQsszn1Bm718FvkNQk9oF4D2RNcdBRLD/s320/DSCN2402.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5258196293323680834" border="0" /></a>disgustingly healthy -- er -- large hank.<br /><br />I do believe that Jess would be pleased.......Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8968907.post-17513966708627226592008-08-18T15:14:00.007-06:002008-08-18T16:10:11.005-06:00big paws to fill.So many things to share, so little time. But one has to start somewhere, right? Since the last post was about Jess, this one is about Piper. The Peeps. Peeper Leeper. The Claw.<br /><br /><div><div><div>We were concerned with how she would handle the death of her lifelong companion. The vet warned that she might freak out, go into a depression, perhaps even wander the house keening for Jess. </div><br /><div>um, no.</div><br /><div>In fact, the opposite was true. After a couple of days, when she felt pretty confident that Jess was not anywhere in the house, for reals, we actually caught her doing a one-way waltz through the great room singing "Ding Dong the Witch is Dead" in an opera voice. Well ok, not really. But <em>almost</em>. You could tell she was thinking it. Let's just say that Jess had been a bit cranky towards Peeps for the last -- oh -- year or so of his life.<br /></div><div>In short, Piper has been enjoying the hell out of being The Alpha Cat for once in her life. Seriously, she morphed into a different cat than the one I'd known for the last 6 years or so. She preened. She strutted. She lazily swished up to us for affection. She talked. A lot. She even began channeling Jess for a bit, which really freaked me out. She would jump onto the bed at 6am and meow loudly, waking us up -- reminiscent of the late gray pumpkin. Not. Cool. We nipped that little habit in the bud, oh yes we did. (SRSLY, one of the only things about Jess I <em>don't</em> miss is his penchant for waking me up at the ass-crack of dawn).</div><br /><div>She tried to step into big gray-and-white paws, she really did. But there was just such a ... <em>presence</em> ... missing in the house. Jess was such a big personality, and Piper, as funny as she is, is just not....and I know I'm an asshole for saying it...but she's just not a standalone cat. I don't even think she was comfortable with her new role, once the novelty wore off. It's a big responsibility, entertaining two adults constantly, making yourself available for affection 24x7, responding to humans talking in "cat voice" (you know, like "baby voice." only...for cats). We were wearing her out.</div><br /><div>I hate to do this to you guys, I really do, but a girl's gotta work. Thus, this is ...</div><div> </div><div align="center"><em><strong>to be continued...<br /></strong></em><br /><br /></div><div></div><br /><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><br /><div></div></div></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8968907.post-7024391923634793942008-07-12T21:35:00.004-06:002008-12-08T20:51:38.850-07:00goodbye gray pumpkin.I have a lot to share, for so much has happened in the past two weeks. Joyful things. And I will share these things. But not right now. Right now, the only thing i can focus on is the loss of Jess, my gray pumpkin spice. We had to let him go yesterday -- he was just working too hard to breathe and he wasn't resting and he couldn't get comfortable because his body was so very full of fluid. He was not having a good time anymore. He still sat on my head every night and purred me to sleep, but I could feel his labored breathing, labored purring. It was just time. This doesn't stop me from beating myself up about it, oh no, I've been crying for two days now. I feel guilty. I feel relieved. I feel grief. I feel sorrow. I feel love. I feel responsible. But most of all, I feel the giant hole left in my life, in my home, in my soul, now that he is gone. I miss him so much. There will never be another Jess.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkBzOkQUlwZotPdK0GtZKHO4-TacdUnV5yx5TXqC1cuxoj7QNGCdZ_Y4QkAjzixqrkRGLFbwx8C4fN7riCifkTNNwpPtQoI7e2hV2KCF8DQiFLaXh_1zsR0dUMthxl_rFPZ4jv/s1600-h/Jess.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkBzOkQUlwZotPdK0GtZKHO4-TacdUnV5yx5TXqC1cuxoj7QNGCdZ_Y4QkAjzixqrkRGLFbwx8C4fN7riCifkTNNwpPtQoI7e2hV2KCF8DQiFLaXh_1zsR0dUMthxl_rFPZ4jv/s400/Jess.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5222339002674516994" border="0" /></a>Jess<br />1995 - 2008<br /></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8968907.post-76924404387592381732008-06-27T16:34:00.003-06:002008-06-27T16:41:09.513-06:00You know you've waited too long for a vacation when...<ul><li>you have noticed that you no longer have any short-term memory. You. Retain. Nothing.</li><li>the very thought of leaving the state makes you actually cry.</li><li>you're in a good mood on your last day of work. (like, people comment on the drastic turnaround)</li><li>your cat is like "GET. OUT."</li></ul><p>Yes people, it's about time. I haven't been on a vacation (longer than a weekend and out of state, that is) since OCTOBER. That is too long. I can't believe it's finally here, but our Alaskan Cruise starts tomorrow!! We fly to Seattle at the crack of dawn (SRSLY -- we have to leave the house at 4am.), and the ship sails at 4pm. I'm hoping that somehow, some way, I can get a nap in there somewhere...because anyone who's ever traveled with me knows that if there ain't a nap, there ain't a vacation. </p><p>Heh.</p><p>So anyway. Enough with the cheesy cliches, it just goes to further show how FRIED I am. For the next 8 days, I have a great excuse not to post: I'M AT SEA!!!</p><p>Bon voyage, all!</p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8968907.post-72582721256268326602008-06-10T21:18:00.005-06:002008-12-08T20:51:39.884-07:00you gotta start somewhereWow. So it's been, like, over a month since I've posted. Every single day I think about posting, and every single day it just seems too overwhelming. So much has been going on behind the scenes. I really don't know where to start and I don't want to post a long-ass post with 800 pictures, you know? So. I guess I'll start somewhere and try to catch up little by little.<br /><br />So, the house. It's coming together, although there doesn't seem to be enough time (or money) to do everything we want to do NOW NOW NOW. And yet. R is one of those guys who can't sit still when there are things to do, and now that he has an ongoing project, omg. He's doing. The yard. The landscaping. Painting. Everything. It makes me tired just watching him. (heh. i do stuff too, don't worry...). One of my favorite things that he's done is my home office. It's too excellent for words. Unfortunately, R doesn't want me to post pics of it until it's "finished". Um, I think what he means is "clean". Which... well. So here are a few photos:<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuw5vgurohKKs1zZv8b9v3ru31G6h3_h0ye1-2G8HVmk44Ksv4GaHROBPT987o9JBliP1CM_v6YSHoQK0CZ2iL5L4NCGvbE2xJkBYtMdcNqRO7m0kn_AdQZu1O6u8UyJNGo0e-/s1600-h/DSC01002.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuw5vgurohKKs1zZv8b9v3ru31G6h3_h0ye1-2G8HVmk44Ksv4GaHROBPT987o9JBliP1CM_v6YSHoQK0CZ2iL5L4NCGvbE2xJkBYtMdcNqRO7m0kn_AdQZu1O6u8UyJNGo0e-/s400/DSC01002.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5210463335984157858" border="0" /></a><img src="file:///Users/lisabell/Pictures/iPhoto%20Library/2008/06/11/DSC01002.JPG" alt="" /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqxHUBj1k95ACul2x34vbqRcyYHOFHGCrB-NIXrCtXC5b67QNHxZy6gvp4McAUa7qVX-mVk7LoWD4Ff8vNBSTfAefOkXHdZ0lpyEqOkCd-PcaX-9j0oqcnQOt90inTD8mT3fhO/s1600-h/DSC01003.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqxHUBj1k95ACul2x34vbqRcyYHOFHGCrB-NIXrCtXC5b67QNHxZy6gvp4McAUa7qVX-mVk7LoWD4Ff8vNBSTfAefOkXHdZ0lpyEqOkCd-PcaX-9j0oqcnQOt90inTD8mT3fhO/s400/DSC01003.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5210463345647044194" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHRsfsC19We0DQ_mZxSHy-ccHlo1ZQAN4Ax2BuogthJaSn3dij7iBz-C_J0sndpelXKY-ayh0Wd0VrEByFjQ9TICe5933uRk5nykfYKbEKOAfiTTTpS32zWVVQqxUeCCeWr9uw/s1600-h/DSC01004.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHRsfsC19We0DQ_mZxSHy-ccHlo1ZQAN4Ax2BuogthJaSn3dij7iBz-C_J0sndpelXKY-ayh0Wd0VrEByFjQ9TICe5933uRk5nykfYKbEKOAfiTTTpS32zWVVQqxUeCCeWr9uw/s400/DSC01004.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5210463356326768834" border="0" /></a>So the pics aren't the greatest, but can you see my PURPLE walls?? Love. Now, here are some other house pics, just to give you an idea what I've been up to lately, in my long absence...<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhD-fqQn6uxAM664hx1GjiTJpE0HJ8G-1NKpEMYzgnegb52Eb05t9k8tUwcRH2g8TgnnSwHV8kYRUYYSP4ZR-CJFptSSkQF2shmrLsOZZlPYaBxOqCv5t1h9xBt_OFM2XmlTpM5/s1600-h/DSC00947.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhD-fqQn6uxAM664hx1GjiTJpE0HJ8G-1NKpEMYzgnegb52Eb05t9k8tUwcRH2g8TgnnSwHV8kYRUYYSP4ZR-CJFptSSkQF2shmrLsOZZlPYaBxOqCv5t1h9xBt_OFM2XmlTpM5/s400/DSC00947.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5210464835210517490" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0ygo5-jrwT0boa7FkXyVtue1GyBdejc9NNKHGgxCIDGl1q1l_BFZn2ZKFFEq6NpadwPuhEPEmhC1sbYSogJ3z2Oj_QqMSQCrbL-arxveKVXE78vX0Mx2tnZFUxBJP1NYWdv0d/s1600-h/DSC00949.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0ygo5-jrwT0boa7FkXyVtue1GyBdejc9NNKHGgxCIDGl1q1l_BFZn2ZKFFEq6NpadwPuhEPEmhC1sbYSogJ3z2Oj_QqMSQCrbL-arxveKVXE78vX0Mx2tnZFUxBJP1NYWdv0d/s400/DSC00949.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5210464846369570562" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTABHv7YbHzqfMMYVuXL8LKSOMDEfzJhcBbY4BDFf-o8Kqb0ICu2g6MPShBoqTMjGL5O4UC-W0GKjyt0xPaKqqptP_cSboJujNltXz4ujcfLD7UHafUy6_JXxD0jaM44b3dzp0/s1600-h/DSC00951.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTABHv7YbHzqfMMYVuXL8LKSOMDEfzJhcBbY4BDFf-o8Kqb0ICu2g6MPShBoqTMjGL5O4UC-W0GKjyt0xPaKqqptP_cSboJujNltXz4ujcfLD7UHafUy6_JXxD0jaM44b3dzp0/s400/DSC00951.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5210464851456134658" border="0" /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">And finally...</span></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnLop9BoU1YbnZ1oVE72cH2Ba6SBuYp2Oia_vRf-v__MXOPLsm9aKnzj7IWXQKiiaIzqCF2a9IZDC6AknnXbDHyr95ZDYh_gAsHGrJ1h2MUz8i00UvLuro0TTxANLIwGG9MmaZ/s1600-h/DSC01000.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnLop9BoU1YbnZ1oVE72cH2Ba6SBuYp2Oia_vRf-v__MXOPLsm9aKnzj7IWXQKiiaIzqCF2a9IZDC6AknnXbDHyr95ZDYh_gAsHGrJ1h2MUz8i00UvLuro0TTxANLIwGG9MmaZ/s400/DSC01000.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5210464827609406594" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnGehATPleLrcjRSMMIhKQOl_Q8O52lW1MZ7nOMCb_1bIyqZnTMJPgnXFiiWiNhfGEadz72jpBMz3kaI2CVVLYZY8W8UO25QnruCjMEvMqZMYVEfBSTtYmGF1ZtZ58-xd3C_w5/s1600-h/DSC01001.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnGehATPleLrcjRSMMIhKQOl_Q8O52lW1MZ7nOMCb_1bIyqZnTMJPgnXFiiWiNhfGEadz72jpBMz3kaI2CVVLYZY8W8UO25QnruCjMEvMqZMYVEfBSTtYmGF1ZtZ58-xd3C_w5/s400/DSC01001.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5210464831779030642" border="0" /><span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51);"></span>I think that's all for now. I'm trying to be reinspired, so we'll see how this goes...</a>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8968907.post-23832528896615037502008-04-24T14:07:00.000-06:002008-08-18T16:11:21.717-06:00My little gray Lazarus. (alt. title: And then there were seven.)We moved into the new house last week. The first night we all (cats et al) spent under the new roof was Friday night. Starting a day or so before the move, Jess started going downhill. For anyone who might not know, Jess has been diabetic for the past year and recently developed a form of congestive heart failure – but we’ve been treating him with meds and he’s been happy as a clam, for the most part. Well this time he completely stopped eating. And drinking. For Jess, the no eating thing is significant; that cat eats his weight even on days when he feels like total crap. I knew it was bad.<br /><br />It was really bad. By Saturday he wouldn’t come out from under my old bed, which is now in the guest room. When he did emerge to use the cat box (all was not totally lost), he couldn’t use his back legs very well. He would take three steps and then lie down and rest a few minutes before going another few steps. He had no balance and seemed very tired. My heart was breaking. Saturday night we opened up the front door of the house and encouraged him to come sit outside with us, which he loved to do in my Austin house. He hobbled down the entryway, the first time he’d walked more than three steps in two days, but he kept veering to the right, even bumping into the wall before bouncing back into a straight line. Veeerrrryyyy slowly. His eyes and coat were dull, but once he made it to the porch he seemed happy to be in the fresh air. We sat outside with him and shivered while he crouched in the cold wind and stuck his nose in the air, eyes closed in ecstasy, tail gently swishing. He stayed out about 15 minutes and then wanted to be carried back inside. We complied. I spent the night with him on the couch, while he stayed curled in a nearby chair, and I woke up every time he rustled. I don’t think he was really even sleeping; he was just breathing and being still.<br /><br />Sunday morning he went back under the bed and wouldn’t come out. We coaxed him, and he let us pet him, reaching with our stomachs and faces pressed into the carpet, but he wasn’t budging. We spent the morning trying to locate a vet that could come to the house on a Sunday; we didn’t want to drag him to an ER for his final moments, but we also didn’t think it was humane to wait until Monday. We had no luck, but by then my sister and her family had arrived and we went to lunch nearby. When we got home, Jess was ON the bed instead of under it. Hmm. We moved a shallow water bowl (ok, a cake pan – we’re still unpacking, people) into the room and some dry food, and to our shock, he started drinking. And drinking. And drinking some more. The cat was soaking wet from his chin to his chest, as he was leaning into the bowl – poor pumpkin was so weak he could barely hold his head up to drink. Then he started nibbling on dry food. And nibbling. And nibbling some more. By Sunday night he was moving around a bit more, but still only taking a few steps at a time. Still, he wasn’t under the bed anymore. We gently carried him into the master bedroom and put him on the new bed, hoping he’d make the transition and I wouldn’t have to sleep in the other room with him again. He stayed. In fact, he climbed onto my head for the first time in a week and purred softly all night. I was thrilled, but still so so sad. Then, it was Monday morning. And the cat was fine. By “fine” I mean, eating, drinking, and walking around. Meowing insistently for us to lift him onto the bathroom counter so he could drink from the faucet. Following us around. Getting underfoot. EATING. AND DRINKING. His legs were still a little shaky, but he had perked up considerably. I went to work, and he was even better when I got home.<br /><br />It is now Thursday and it’s like nothing ever happened. His coat and eyes are shiny again. Gray man sat perched on the verge of death, a calendar day away from the end, and now he’s totally back to normal. Only he hasn’t needed insulin in a week. His blood sugar (we tested it throughout the ordeal) is exactly the same as when we were giving him the shots. We haven’t given him his diuretic because he was so dehydrated. And still, he is happy.<br /><br />We are mystified. The vet is mystified. But Jess?<br /><br />Jess is … Jess. And I’m so, so glad.<br /><br />We’re putting grass in the backyard for him ASAP so he can feel the wind in his whiskers for the rest of his remaining seven lives.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8968907.post-15312724596242406442008-04-14T14:24:00.002-06:002008-08-18T16:11:35.597-06:00Controlled chaos.An oxymoron? I don’t think so, not in this case. You see, most people don’t have a Robert to help them pack and move. Most people don’t have the luxury of continuing their daily routine, complete with work-related stress headaches and freaky company meetings, while their significant other is busily packing up their apartment and trying to keep things moving smoothly so they don't have a complete nervous breakdown<br /><br />This morning was the final walk through.<br /><br />This afternoon I expect to receive the final numbers from the mortgage broker, but so far nothing. None of this is real in my mind until I see the numbers in black and white and see that this whole thing is actually feasible. Right now it’s all this abstract idea: somehow, that beautiful, new-smelling, shiny house that I’ve watched go from a blank frame through completion is going to be mine in less than 48 hours. Um. Yeah, right. My stuff is really going to be in it. This time next week, I will be driving to work from a new direction. Everything will be…new.<br /><br />But first, the numbers.<br /><br />In the meantime, Robert has been packing the apartment gradually while I’m at work, when he’s not in class or working. And he’s doing a bang-up job. The entire spare room, including the gigantor closet with boxes from my LAST move almost two years ago. The kitchen. Ahh, the kitchen. How I despise packing (and unpacking) kitchens. I did not know he packed the kitchen until last night, since I didn’t really go in there all weekend except to get ice cream. (what? I’m STRESSED, people). So last night, after an exhausting weekend of tying up loose ends before the move and trying not to spend any real money (except for paying the balance on our June cruise. uh, yeah, that), it was time to eat dinner. We were both spent and not in the mood to even go pick food up anywhere, so Robert heated up some soup we had in the fridge. And all was sweet and well and domestic-like. Until he went to serve it, and realized he had Packed. The. Bowls. All. of. Them. Aha, I said, that’s what you get for packing more than a day ahead of time, Mr. Smarty Pants!<br /><br />We had a good laugh. And then we ate delicious soup out of a giant casserole dish.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8968907.post-63908737997182705152008-03-23T23:58:00.002-06:002008-12-08T20:51:40.485-07:00What's been goin' onJust a quick summary of the past couple of weeks...<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDH24kBXLlBJS8BS_Iuc1zQJX9gbtRlFFcELNy2rw6fyUbBYqC7TUOi8NMEqVMtJa4nzYcj5QvIwuAuT1r3ZGY7tG0leJczkKcdbzWM5fBvkpf43EYDHTI7KcbFLeR3EoKlCrt/s1600-h/DSC00847.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDH24kBXLlBJS8BS_Iuc1zQJX9gbtRlFFcELNy2rw6fyUbBYqC7TUOi8NMEqVMtJa4nzYcj5QvIwuAuT1r3ZGY7tG0leJczkKcdbzWM5fBvkpf43EYDHTI7KcbFLeR3EoKlCrt/s400/DSC00847.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5181184570335569666" border="0" /></a>Babs was kind enough to take a photo of Robert and I in front of the almost-completed house!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitvvhipftxxvRqwnwqu2k5Hyc4TuhO6MwvHBpJVeRC5VJrLfraHQxJrvfzzrhS53t2Gr73mnQO8pUMHVUe0gzxxPzfPGxBMfEZhLh0Cmyw6dXZGWoGjZ37JwXEoqenIm-y91Zl/s1600-h/DSC00843.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitvvhipftxxvRqwnwqu2k5Hyc4TuhO6MwvHBpJVeRC5VJrLfraHQxJrvfzzrhS53t2Gr73mnQO8pUMHVUe0gzxxPzfPGxBMfEZhLh0Cmyw6dXZGWoGjZ37JwXEoqenIm-y91Zl/s400/DSC00843.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5181184574630536978" border="0" /></a>Robert returned the favor by snapping us in front of the fireplace...my first Austin friend to visit my new Colorado house - yay!<br /><br />The cats have some ideas about the impending move, and they're not necessarily good ones...<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3gAoZY5MKQu_2VJljZuC2JpqGRmDf-bx3uccx5pOd3Nlarhfp0rLY4bnL8A7XMzBKjvAUHT2sDdHAH7qgWSqc3NOf0KbQmJ281ymIlHeIZX0-Iuy_HYf28HeEPu7xTc9sn8JI/s1600-h/DSC00853.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3gAoZY5MKQu_2VJljZuC2JpqGRmDf-bx3uccx5pOd3Nlarhfp0rLY4bnL8A7XMzBKjvAUHT2sDdHAH7qgWSqc3NOf0KbQmJ281ymIlHeIZX0-Iuy_HYf28HeEPu7xTc9sn8JI/s400/DSC00853.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5181184566040602354" border="0" /></a>You're kidding, me, right???<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQiWcLeHaXauHKrejR9PjatNvUcSAcfMqlnwFKfrrewnNX9kTVCjbLr9TrPceN43Qc9wRixSK9ghxEz4F-CehtZuiYyk-f9IeI9BSzSZgBLn38nM-2GB6K1vaujyUbK5guNlTq/s1600-h/DSC00838.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQiWcLeHaXauHKrejR9PjatNvUcSAcfMqlnwFKfrrewnNX9kTVCjbLr9TrPceN43Qc9wRixSK9ghxEz4F-CehtZuiYyk-f9IeI9BSzSZgBLn38nM-2GB6K1vaujyUbK5guNlTq/s400/DSC00838.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5181184578925504290" border="0" /></a><br />And that's about all she has to say about that.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8968907.post-2501841573635411052008-03-20T15:44:00.004-06:002008-12-08T20:51:40.599-07:00AI Haiku<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzOXQbrZdti3CG35qBJBWu3e77F-YSu2VRxl1AO25XTBlnWnbKLLUS8pdU-GKepClokXn3Rn1x3OM1wGwdXCtSmsHaxauVXVb4NzfAbP4oI8SZWb0UkMj-06NG40btarvYGP9a/s1600-h/ramiele.jpg"></a><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYGbrNRV_1CJw5p8wj0-fa4zkhY1KdhoFyGfOtDFIa0mv1yyEQrlokoi0mjIuXIHTCb12Xn2M7BpH18yRJ82fxRZJ_Dn4qca2DOcwYctLLWOYlYbQKxIM_-jpoj8UAfzOMNBBX/s1600-h/ramiele.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5179943526650488530" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYGbrNRV_1CJw5p8wj0-fa4zkhY1KdhoFyGfOtDFIa0mv1yyEQrlokoi0mjIuXIHTCb12Xn2M7BpH18yRJ82fxRZJ_Dn4qca2DOcwYctLLWOYlYbQKxIM_-jpoj8UAfzOMNBBX/s400/ramiele.jpg" border="0" /></a> I haven't gotten to this the past few weeks, but I can hold my silence no longer...<br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><div><em>Tiny Ramiele</em></div><em>There is no way you will win<br />Why are you still here??<br /></em><br /><div></div></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8968907.post-32183691808834061602008-03-03T21:31:00.002-07:002008-08-18T16:11:55.582-06:00notes on the current housing marketIn a nutshell, it sucks. But you all knew that. We knew that too. But we got a wicked good deal on a beautiful house in a great neighborhood and we thought we were on our way to the American dream. I mean, we still are, but there has been a rather large, heavy, spike-and-acid-covered wrench thrown into the mix.<br /><br />So it seems that since December, when we wrote the contract on the house, the mortgage lender has changed their terms. They've removed one of the options they offered that made the house such a good deal. This little change in policy will raise the house payment by almost $400/month. Um, DEALBREAKER. I'm told it's just the "uncertain market" and "fluctuating interest rates" and blahblahblah -- but I still feel like they just pulled the rug out from under me.<br /><br />So after the initial freakout this afternoon, Robert and I spent some time online assessing other options. I'm telling you, we freaked the hell out. Wouldn't you?? We decided to make a drive up to Longmont to see a different community by the same builder. The price points there were lower but the houses were comparable if not a little bigger. Imagine our surprise to arrive and find that one of the realtors we've been working with in our neighborhood had JUST been transferred to this new neighborhood! So much for checking it out under the radar! However, it turned out well; she was able to show us some of the homes that will be available in about a month, but she also said she was going to try and "work some magic" and find a way to get us in the other house (OUR house) despite the change in terms. She might have mentioned "seller incentives" she might be able to throw our way... so, yay!<br /><br />My gut feeling is that we'll end up in the house we love, the house we've watched from the ground up. Looking at the other homes in this other neighborhood was weird; some of them are bigger, maybe have a larger closet, a roomier basement...but it's not "MY" house. I didn't hand-pick the carpet, the hardwood, the cabinets and countertops. My house is just perfect. It's exactly my style and I lurve eet.<br /><br />So. Keep your fingers and toes crossed for me, k? Should know something in the next couple of days......Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8968907.post-13952173329119801512008-03-01T23:34:00.003-07:002008-12-08T20:51:40.799-07:00second windWell for the past two days, Jess has perked up considerably. I have no idea why, but I'm stoked about it! He's been chasing after Piper again, purring normally instead of the rattle-purr, and he's just generally been really playful, which is weird for Jess anyway...but it makes me happy to see him happy. Right now he's draped over a pillow next to me on the couch, staring at me while I type this. Maybe his meds finally kicked in? In any event, I'm cautiously optimistic. I really want him to have the chance to frolic in the grass again when we move to the new house...<br /><br />Speaking of the new house, we went out there today and OMG it's basically finished!! On the inside, that is. They even put the carpet in this week! So the only things left on the interior are the blinds, the appliances, and the touch-ups. Outside they still need to paint the rail on the porch and put in the front-yard landscaping. Closing is April 16 -- the countdown is on!! I'm so psyched. Every day I'm in this apartment I hate it more. It's going to be so fun having a house again!<br /><br />Well I just wanted to update; I am trying to get into the habit of writing more often, so what that means for anyone reading is that there are going to be a lot of boring posts where I just say "hey, I'm writing, whhheeeeee!"<br /><br />Hope everyone is having a great weekend. It was in the low 70s today, and by the time we wake up in the morning it will be in the 30s with 3-6 inches of snow. Yeehaw, that's how we roll in Colorado :)<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhitQvCyQPF5OU_W2nqIYKT-i7nENrQpm3TV9CIMD5wAnlP3wdM14DgVGuApzYQhmS1_K1EaTDqFnyxMJTmf6fEuuLEVSCVasH0lIDn3df24DOM18yn9LUmgxI79Cz1hESJTOn6/s1600-h/DSCN1942.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhitQvCyQPF5OU_W2nqIYKT-i7nENrQpm3TV9CIMD5wAnlP3wdM14DgVGuApzYQhmS1_K1EaTDqFnyxMJTmf6fEuuLEVSCVasH0lIDn3df24DOM18yn9LUmgxI79Cz1hESJTOn6/s400/DSCN1942.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5173031331667384658" border="0" /></a>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8968907.post-7083328666923551132008-02-26T01:53:00.002-07:002008-02-26T02:04:29.923-07:00letting go is hard to do.Can you miss someone before they are gone? Is it really possible to “let go” and “prepare yourself” for the fact that your best friend will not be around much longer? I don’t think so. You can’t ever be prepared for something like that. And the situation is made worse by the fact that my friend’s death will ultimately be when I decide. It is my responsibility to take care of him to the best of my ability until it becomes selfish for me to keep him going. The little voice in my head keeps asking, “…but how will I know?”<br /><br />I am, of course, talking about Jess. The furry gray man who has been my constant companion for the past 13 years, never judging me, never betraying me, loving me unconditionally no matter my mood or my weight. Never intimidated by my tears, ever patient with my emotions. Most marriages don’t last this long and aren’t this healthy.<br /><br />He’s had a good life. He’s been adored. Blah blah blah, yes, I know. But why must it end so soon? First the diabetes, and now his little heart is failing. And I feel guilt, deep down, because he had none of these health problems in Texas. They started when we moved to Colorado a year and a half ago. I know that’s not logical, but it’s a fact and it hurts. Some have pointed out that perhaps he was “waiting” for me to find my human soul mate before he could let go. This is an incredibly romantic and sweet notion, but… seriously? He loves Robert too. Why can’t he live to be the ripe old age of 19 or 20, like some of my childhood cats did? Did his intense human-like personality simply wear him out? Did <em>I</em> wear him out? Did I draw on his goodness and strength to the point of draining him?<br /><br />I have lost pets before. I had to let <a href="http://lisabell34.blogspot.com/2005/12/gone-missing.html">Meggie </a>go a couple of years ago, and that was incredibly hard. I still miss her and often turn my head, expecting to see her steady gaze and hear her insistent, chatty meow. But Jess. It’s different. He’s different. It’s not that I love him more, but I love him different. He is more like a little man than a feline. Everyone who meets Jess loves him, cat person or not. He has converted even the most stoic dog lovers (Tam) and the extremely allergic (E.) into Jess-people. When I left him at the vet overnight a couple of weeks ago, when the techs brought him out to me the next day they said sadly, “…but he’s SUCH a good cat…” Yes. Yes he is.<br /><br />I desperately hope, like everyone else with a loved one, that he will simply curl up on my head one night and go to sleep. I want him to drift off peacefully, absurdly content with his nose tangled in my hair and his paw resting on my cheek. But if that doesn’t happen, it is my responsibility to prevent his suffering, and I take that responsibility very seriously.<br /><br />How will I know when it’s time? I think Jess will let me know, in his gentle yet persistent way, as he always has. I pray that he will.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8968907.post-59777511842492097242008-02-21T15:39:00.003-07:002008-12-08T20:51:40.903-07:00AI Haiku<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqNHAukaFB-pCmqFNVWfGNDsvmy_OFuDDDBkR4XkwFXghzKJocy5mUzuq35c1z0L9Qr0LIE7l1DYWfLpW180wbfx1ucAcs6ZiR7sWAkd-kjbMFYP-tR-g0kCfZYeq0vj4BTHDa/s1600-h/luke.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5169567777793847250" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqNHAukaFB-pCmqFNVWfGNDsvmy_OFuDDDBkR4XkwFXghzKJocy5mUzuq35c1z0L9Qr0LIE7l1DYWfLpW180wbfx1ucAcs6ZiR7sWAkd-kjbMFYP-tR-g0kCfZYeq0vj4BTHDa/s400/luke.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div></div><br /><div></div><br /><div>Little Luke Menard</div><br /><div>even with Luke Perry looks</div><br /><div>you are going home.</div><br /><div></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8968907.post-14108758004399928552008-02-04T04:53:00.000-07:002008-02-04T05:05:34.604-07:00hot, sweaty thoughtsI got sick Friday afternoon, just in time for the weekend. I caught some version of what R has had all week. Mine came with coughing, loss of voice, and the always reliable sore throat. Of course it has gotten worse instead of better, and here we are at 5am (I've been up for 2 hours) googling homeopathic sore throat remedies. <br /><br />Well I'm here to tell you to BELIEVE WHAT YOU READ ON THE INTERNET PEOPLE, because I spent about an hour reading a website with testimonial after testimonial swearing by the magical sore-throat-healing powers of cayenne pepper and/or apple cider vinegar. I was vainly looking for a more attractive remedy, say rose petals and honey. But no, cayenne pepper it was. As I quietly rifled through the spice cabinet, it didn't take me long to realize that of COURSE I didn't have cayenne, ACV, garlic, or even tabasco, other popular remedies a la internet. I hate hot shit. I scrambled back to my laptop, all the while trying so hard not to swallow (oh the pain), and desperately searched until I found someone saying that any hot pepper will do, not just cayenne.<br /><br />Back to the kitchen I go. This time I mix up a hot tea concoction with generous amounts of honey and about 1/2 tsp of chile powder. First I gargle it, and when I find it doesn't burn my mouth as I feared, I start swallowing it. And I'm here to tell you that it works -- to some degree. I am not healed, but I can swallow now which is such sweet relief I can't even tell you, and THE COUGHING HAS STOPPED . I'll definitely make it until morning now, until I can go to the doctor (like any responsible adult) and get more serious meds, if necessary.<br /><br />The only drawback I can see at this point is that I'm sweating. Like, my insides are sweating.<br />Go, chile powder.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8968907.post-20086759250001382132008-01-30T22:14:00.001-07:002008-01-30T22:25:03.509-07:00the blahhhhhzzzthis is one of those weeks where i just can't believe it's already wednesday. and the relief i feel over that fact is overwhelming, almost bringing me to tears. i have been buried in work, but i can see the light at the end of the tunnel, finally. i don't have a lot of news, but here are some "highlights" of the past week or so:<br /><ul><li>it snowed just enough tonight to cover the ugly black snow-pile remnants with a cool, white, blanket of snow. awesome.</li><li>robert has been sick for 3 days and won't go to the doctor. i guess he needs to die first. then he'll believe it's serious enough to warrant a doctor's visit. men = grrrrrrrrr.</li><li>jess's blood sugar is still wonky and unpredictable. we upped the insulin dose again, and his blood sugar seems to have climbed. however, he sleeps now, which he had trouble with before. so i guess we're making progress? poor grey pumpkin.</li><li>there were layoffs at my job but i "survived." why do i feel guilty??</li><li>robert and jess are currently snoring in unison.</li></ul><p>um, that's about it. well not really, but that's all i feel like writing right now. just wanted to check in...</p><p>that is all.</p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8968907.post-1074963464916373962008-01-20T00:49:00.001-07:002008-12-08T20:51:41.621-07:00Casa updateSo we went out to check on the house this weekend, and they've made quite a bit of progress -- which is freaking me out, since it's not supposed to be finished until April, and my lease isn't up til end of May. Everytime we go to the build site, I'm all telling the workers to "slow down!" For some reason, I don't think they hear that very often from the homebuyers...<br /><br />So here is my actual house -- painted except for the door, front porch under construction...<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHvJaSQT-B8d5a8tn98cZDNkTfBVx874DMl7QHHq4Ujujnm6WsA96gPPdzfgGp3esyF9nKcSA1bUGv_p783w9p3r2oKChxkCkrEjp126IDO0plA3dcLjfOfCSU5a_hYVBOE_tf/s1600-h/DSCN1868.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHvJaSQT-B8d5a8tn98cZDNkTfBVx874DMl7QHHq4Ujujnm6WsA96gPPdzfgGp3esyF9nKcSA1bUGv_p783w9p3r2oKChxkCkrEjp126IDO0plA3dcLjfOfCSU5a_hYVBOE_tf/s400/DSCN1868.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5157464827795131842" border="0" /></a>Then we went inside, where I almost had a heart attack because... THEY ALREADY PUT THE WOOD FLOORS IN OMG OMG SLOW DOWN !!!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1HMb_MumS42-67a6dMM2mWHpq65rjxQxA486p4N1O2x-HDZEmQqrBdxi9WNcv944ycyT6ZfLNqdiWTrK4CIkGe7rmUDXYNHPDg0rF6h52xFW5vehXr2jZiDIB9ftFmpGujJ9P/s1600-h/DSCN1883.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1HMb_MumS42-67a6dMM2mWHpq65rjxQxA486p4N1O2x-HDZEmQqrBdxi9WNcv944ycyT6ZfLNqdiWTrK4CIkGe7rmUDXYNHPDg0rF6h52xFW5vehXr2jZiDIB9ftFmpGujJ9P/s400/DSCN1883.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5157464832090099154" border="0" /></a>The floors aren't stained yet, but the way things are going, they'll be stained by NEXT WEEKEND OMG OMG SLOW DOWN !!!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjP9m0vSWOVj4vhLLWjA_Rhtd8RO_naJ2Zx1lN_iftzZ4fSnP-uPFYyJnTuN_GyDG1_Hc2-NM5VpRV6n_axeFJ_hQcPlkYjkyH0SHVK2thkAem5IveY-GbuMeBq1FscAHp9e9Vd/s1600-h/DSCN1885.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjP9m0vSWOVj4vhLLWjA_Rhtd8RO_naJ2Zx1lN_iftzZ4fSnP-uPFYyJnTuN_GyDG1_Hc2-NM5VpRV6n_axeFJ_hQcPlkYjkyH0SHVK2thkAem5IveY-GbuMeBq1FscAHp9e9Vd/s400/DSCN1885.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5157464862154870242" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7dSj06kzw-_SxA9GHciD6g6i1xbECvtbpjbfutDTgNRWjmt19yYyWSX7gECPMo6Juq3XwYEHvWSU4ZnDts-j3W9XDzLuo4kVvivfhms7_ByOM_broEZpn4fRK2iGQv7PSYhFu/s1600-h/DSCN1870.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7dSj06kzw-_SxA9GHciD6g6i1xbECvtbpjbfutDTgNRWjmt19yYyWSX7gECPMo6Juq3XwYEHvWSU4ZnDts-j3W9XDzLuo4kVvivfhms7_ByOM_broEZpn4fRK2iGQv7PSYhFu/s400/DSCN1870.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5157464024636247474" border="0" /></a>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com4