Today was Steve's birthday, so I was busy getting a present and putting together a nice dinner for this evening. It was good because it got me out of the house, and I'm starting to get a little agoraphobic, choosing to sit around the house rather than go out and enjoy myself.
One other recent development, which happened a couple weeks ago but got upstaged by my late writings on "Arsenic & Old Lace" and my trip to Wisconsin, was the passing of Steve's cat Buddy (snoozing here with Christmas Elf and Xmas Bear last holiday season).
He was an orange tabby and was about 14. He had been throwing up a lot in the past few years, but we found that giving him a quarter of a Pepcid daily helped that greatly. Still, it was pretty rough on the ivory-colored berber carpeting, which itself is rather old.In the last few months he had stopped eating (very unusual for him) and even drinking water. Buddy was looking really bad in the last week or two, just skin and bones and weighing only about four pounds, so Steve decided to have him put to sleep. It was kind of rough and we miss him still.
This leaves us with one cat, Marcel, a very singular cat who will have bursts of affection and then simply go off on his own for hours and hours. Since Buddy has gone, Marcel has taken to being afraid of the television, skirting around it in panic. It's very weird.
One of the things we can have in the house, now that Buddy is gone, is plants. Buddy would eat any kind of plant: real, silk, plastic, and then get sick in the biggest way. So Steve's birthday gift was a plant in a very nice pot. (I also brought back some Fiestaware for him from Red Wing).
So I'm doing fine. I'm concentrating this week on getting out more. I'm contemplating a trip to Hollywood, or maybe Chinatown or Olvera Street; whatever strikes my fancy and is close to a MetroRail station. (Oh, yeah; Universal City Walk!).
Drop me an e-mail if you want. I could use the diversion.
And lord knows I have the time to answer.
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