This is going to be a rather quiet and somewhat sad weekend for us. Come Monday morning, we’ll be taking Celia in to the vet’s to be euthanized. She’s been so sick these past few months and her treatments don’t last as long and are becoming more difficult to give her. So it was decided yesterday afternoon that the kindest thing we could do would be to let her just fall asleep and never wake up again. We’ll cry (I already have — several times) and we’ll say our goodbyes and be there as she goes.
The vet had listed a few options of treatment, all costly, of course, but none of the courses of treatment were guaranteed to help her at all, or to help her long term, or to even heal her. If we were rich, sure we might consider some of the options, but eventually we would have to make the tough decision and do what was, ultimately, the best thing for HER.
I think she knows what’s up. She’s come out of deep hiding and is in visible seclusion instead. She’s no longer flinching when I approach her because she, again, seems to know we’re not going to bother her with meds any further. All I want for her is to come out, spend time where’s she’s most comfortable, and be her lovely self as we prepare ourselves emotionally.
Celia is our gorgeous, furry princess. After she got over her initial shyness and distrust, she became very loving and exceedingly insistent we pet her. It was funny. Whatever it took to get us to bend to her will, well, she was willing to do it. And so were we. On the rare days when she was in play mode, Celia was hysterical. She’d chase and leap and skitter across the floor, she’d meow and make a big deal out of it. And then, five minutes later, she’d be done. Most fun was watching her play with Fletch. They were funny as hell together! Fletch loved it and he was always sad when she’d end the game sooner than he wanted.
There will never be another cat as beautiful as Celia. There will never be another cat as unique as she is. We’re going to miss our Baby Girl.
Hot and muggy trending high in this part of the coutry. We are not fans. Not in the least.
As far as my meds go, I’m settling in with the higher dose of Oxycontin and having no real problems with the Baclofen. Well, I’m a bit sleepy on all of this, but that’s to be expected. I have noticed, however, that I tend to kind of fall out in the middle of typing or watching television. If l begin to drift off here, you’ll likely see random letters appear in no particular order. kkkkdddddddoooosssssssds]sssssssss yeah, kind of like that. I don’t even know it’s happening until I snap to and feel the heaviness ooi in my fingers and have to fight to get them to let upllllllllllllllllkkkkkkkkkkkklllll laasddddddddddddddddd
It’s kind of an odd sensation: that total disconnect with all the rest of the world at the drop of a hat. It’s very disconcerting, to say the least. I sort of nod off during conversations, watching TV, trying to type or play a game. Sometimes I’m just llllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllll do that. I do a lot of backtracking with the TV. And convos. If you saw how many times I’ve had to backspace this post alone, you’d be amazed.
Well, I’m going to lie down and hope I get some sleep. The sleep I’ve had since starting the Baclofen is working out well. I still wake up with numbness and tingling extremities and pain, but the sleep has been significantly more restful than I’ve had in ages. I”ll take it!
Oh, one more thing (I’ve turned into Columbo all of a sudden): My mom just turned 80 this weekend. Have a slug of some beverage of your choosing in her honor, please. We’re going to keep celebrating each and every event with my parents now that they’re both octogenarians.
Okay, now I’m really going to lie down, listen to the rain, and fall asleep.
Celia’s doing so much better these days, but her recovery has led to another, unanticipated problem: she’s begging for food ALL. THE. TIME. Walking into the kitchen to get some water? She’s there, begging, “feeeed me! Feeeeeeeed me!” Walking by the kitchen? “Feeeeeed me! FEEEEEED MEEEE!” Five minutes after she’s finished eating? “Feeeeeeed me, Seymour! FEED! ME! NOW!” It’s become almost comical. Except it gets very loud at times. On the other hand, it’s a greater alternative to her not eating and slowly dying. So, all things considered, it’s a good thing.
My mom’s doing very since her T.I.A.s. She left the rehab center just a few days after she got there and has since been told she’s fine and needs no further follow-up as far as occupational or physical therapy. YAY! It’s so nice to get good news for a change, you know?
Sadly, my dad is having a rough go of it lately. He just lost a close friend to that fucking bastard cancer. He was younger than my dad and that has made it even worse. This comes on the heels of him losing another friend quite recently. It’s been a lot for Dad to deal with. I understand how tough it is for him to see his circle of friends grow smaller. Suddenly, the people who know and understand you are no longer there. Where does that leave you? I hate to think of him being so lonely. I hate to think of anyone being that lonely.
Mojo and her husband are doing well up in Alaska. They went to interview cats over the weekend as their darling little trouble maker needs a friend. No word yet on the outcome.
Spent Father’s Day with King Arthur’s family down in San Clemente. It was so much cooler down there than it has been up where we live. Reminded me of when I used to live there back in the day and reminded me of why I love the beach so much. KA’s family is a truly lovely clan. I really enjoy spending time with them.
I hope all of you had a wonderful Father’s Day and head into yet another work week with a light heart and kindness for those around you.
It’s been a fairly shitty couple of weeks around here.
We said goodbye to my darling Mojo and have been dealing with her absence, fretting about the drive. She arrived in Alaska safely and we all breathed a sigh of relief.
I ended up in the emergency department twice in one day for my back. Spent much of the next six days fighting back tears because I hurt so damn bad 24/7.I’m only now getting to a semi-comfortable place.
Then I get word that a friend’s cancer has spread and gone from survivable to inoperable and terminal. That was after finding out two other friends are battling cancer, too. It’s heavy on the heart, y’know?
Celia had to be rushed to the vet on Thursday as she had stopped eating, drinking, using the litterbox, and went into hiding. Her ears had bubbled up, as had part of her nose and a paw. Luckily, we found a new vet who said it was likely a food allergy, treated her with steroids and antibiotics (secondary infection from open wounds), and sent her home with us. Once home, we closed off the rest of the house so we could get to her and, lo and behold! She ate. And she started acting like our little princess again.
Of course, all that was manageable…and then I get The Call. My sister called to say my mom was in the hospital after having what they thought was a stroke. Now they say it was likely a T.I.A. or two. Her left arm, hand, leg, and foot are weak and she’s complaining that there’s some weakness on the right as well. At this point, I simply lifted my eyes to the heavens and begged for all her pain and infirmaty to become mine. I don’t care that she’s 80! My mom deserves better.
And now here I sit…praying like there’s no tomorrow.
If there’s another shoe or two? No, thanks. I have plenty. Besides, my feet have been swelling.
This year Orthodox Pascha is celebrated one week after the celebration of the Western Easter. The Orthodox date for Easter is based on a decree of the Council of Nicaea, Asia Minor, held in 325 A.D. According to this decree, Easter must be celebrated on the Sunday following the first full moon of the vernal equinox but always after the Hebrew Passover to maintain the Biblical sequence of events of the Crucifixion and the Resurrection. The Orthodox Christian churches have adhered strictly to this formula.
“Christos anesti ek nekron
thanato thanaton patisas
kai tois en tois mnimisi
King Arthur’s daughter-in-law lost her father last week and so we attended the funeral. While at the church for the service, KA’s granddaughter was brought in by the lovely Lady M and Lord R. I first saw her from behind and her beautiful back of the head and her curls made my non-existent ovaries ache in the most awful way. Then another toddler arrived. He had gorgeous little curls at the nape of his neck, too. If I still had a womb it would have wept.
There’s something absolutely delicious about baby hair. The locks that gently twist around and fall softly upon their wee bodies are most delightful. Perfect sweetness. Just as unblemished as the new skin of child. It’s innocence in follicular form. Everything precious and hopeful is wrapped up in each tendril.
I know there are many who feel funerals are not the place for children — especially the very young. But I disagree. The solemnity of the day was eased away by the presence of babies and all the joy they bring with them. They’re a reminder of what life is all about, why we do what we do, and why we care. The laughter and gentleness of children are what fill our lives with joy and they are the perfect antidote to sadness. I’m glad they were there. And I’m glad they brought along their curls.
I’ve been battling a sinus thing most of the week. We had some glorious rain and chilly weather for a couple weeks and then got slammed with Santa Anas that dried out everything and everyone. In the past, I’ve had sinus problems go into my lungs rather quickly. Now? Well, it seems as though it goes straight to my vocal cords and leaves me without a voice. On top of my almost constant sensation of throat thickness (because my neck is jacked up) this makes it difficult for me to swallow. It’s a very odd feeling.
Obviously, I also have sinus pain and pressure. I’ve been vigilant with regards to take my Benadryl and doing my saline washes. It’s pretty much all I can do to keep the symptoms in check. It doesn’t always work, but I keep at it in hopes that it’ll keep things from getting worse. I also drink plenty of fluids, including decaf tea. Have to try everything. Thankfully, I’m not at the Rudolph stage and I aim to avoid that as much as I can.
Sadly, I’m not the only sick one in the house. Fletch has been vomiting all day. He’s lethargic and warmer than normal. He won’t even attempt to drink. I’ve managed to get a few drops of water in him via a 5ml oral syringe. 20 minutes later it all came up. This time, instead of vomiting all over the floor (carpet, tile, it’s all game), he managed to get it into his food bowl. Poor guy! We’re doing all we can to make him comfortable, but if he’s not better in the morning he’s going to see the vet. I wish I could just hand him some Gatorade and chicken noodle soup, some crackers, and Tylenol and let him sleep it off like you would a person. That doesn’t work for kitties, though.
Maybe this week we’ll all get better. I’m putting that at the top of the TO DO list.
Miss Celia is doing much better these days. She still has a problem with her mouth and you can tell it bothers her when she yawns. Otherwise, she’s been doing really well. She’s eating. A lot. And is very vocal when she thinks there might be some food available. Especially chicken. She’s grooming herself more frequently. Her coat looks AMAZING and you can tell she’s putting on some weight because she’s looking more like a red panda than a scrawny cat. She’s playing more. She’s more affectionate. But…
She’s a fart monster.
Whenever she lets one go, she kind of jumps and looks at the spot where she was sitting as if to say, “what the hell was that?” As if she couldn’t have possibly caused that noise. Or the smell. Sometimes it makes her run away. It’s really funny. Except that it stinks. And she has a habit of sitting with her butt angled toward someone’s face. Or she is always swishing her tail toward us. It’s gross, but super funny.
We’re going to take her back in for a recheck to let the vet see how well she’s doing. We’ll also be declining more antibiotics. They wanted her on antibiotics again at the last visit and we declined. Poor thing needed a break from the torture of us shoving the meds down her throat. She HATES that. I mean, she REALLY REALLY HATES IT! Since we stopped the antibiotics she’s been happy and doing everything a cat should do.
We’re coming up on a year of having cats. They’ve changed our lives in wonderful ways. It’s taken them almost this whole year to really settle in and act like they feel they belong here. We didn’t expect them to adjust overnight after living in a shelter their entire lives, but we certainly didn’t think it would take as long as it did. With patience and lots of love, it happened naturally and has been a delight to watch them thrive. I told King Arthur the other day how happy I am that we adopted these two weirdos (including Little Miss Fart Monster) and how much it means to me that we have these furry little friends in our lives. The house feels so much more like a home with them here.
King Arthur’s daughter is pregnant again. I mentioned on Facebook that I’d dreamed she was giving a bath to a baby boy, and then told her about the next day when we got together for dinner. She mentioned she’d just started to bathe Baby Emma in the tub after she started making such a mess in the kitchen sink so I attributed the dream to that. But then she called the next weekend to tell me she realized she hadn’t had a period since Thanksgiving and took a pregnancy test and…TA DA! Preggers. Lady M and Lord R are fantastic parents to Emma; Emma’s a wonderful child and I’m sure their next baby is going to be just as lovely as the first. If they end up with a boy, though, I’m going to have to start paying more attention to my dreams and charging people for my services.
We have a new hummingbird nest on a support leg of the carport next door. It’s closer to the front of the house than the last one and I can see it a little better from the window next to my chair. Mama hummingbird is almost always on her nest. I’m pretty sure she’s the same bird we had last year. She flits off to eat and returns quickly. I’ve taken a few photos of her, but only when she’s not looking because I want her comfy in her nest. I can’t wait to see the babies, though! They are always so adorable.
Just finished a book for my book club. It was wonderful. Tell The Wolves I’m Home is about a young teen girl in 1987 who loses her uncle to AIDS. After his death, the girl must deal with her grief, the discovery of his boyfriend, growing up, and learning what it means to love those around her even though they may have hurt others deeply. I can’t explain it more than that at the moment. I’m still digesting it and collecting my thoughts and feelings. All I can say is check it out for yourself. It’s a good read. Some in the book club weren’t nearly as happy with it, finding some of the characters and behaviors unimaginable. But as someone who grew up in the 80s, it all rang true for me. So, here I am, recommending it to you.
One of the gifts I gave KA for Christmas was 2Cellos music. We’ve been listening to a lot of it lately. The video below is for one of my favorite songs on their In2ition album. Enjoy.
Okay, maybe we weren’t really washed away by all the rain, but it has been very rainy and it’s been lovely. California needs the rain and I happen to like it immensely.
I’ve been doing my best to try to get over the holidays and focus on getting something, anything done. A photo project? I’ve been working on gathering supplies for that, but whilst doing so I lost my studio space as the spare bedroom has become filled with stuff. Stuff that can’t fit anywhere else in the house. Stuff that just doesn’t need to be there…or here…or really anywhere. In other words, if we can’t actually use it and it has no real value, do we really need to keep it? It’s for King Arthur to decide. In the meantime, I don’t know where I can set up a studio. That means no photo project. Vicious cycle, really.
We spent the evening at KA’s daughter’s. Had pizza and salad for dinner. Played with Baby Toddler Emma. She’s such a delight! Silly, smart, sweet.
Been gradually adding photos to 500px.com as I’ve decided Flickr is a junk heap. Half the time the site won’t display photos (you get an error message) and when it does manage to work I find myself less than pleased with the quality of work on there. As well, they did away with subscriptions and, to me, that says they don’t much care anymore about the quality or type of work that’s uploaded to the site. It’s just a repository for anything and everything from everybody. 500px is proving to be a much nicer environment for what I’d like to do with my photography. The feedback I’ve received in the past couple months has been encouraging. Not only that, but people actually take the time to seek out other artists and discover new work. That alone is enough for me to want to upload my own images there.
Oh, something else I did this weekend: I finally watched some of the Veterans Day documentaries I’d recorded. The Last Patrol was my favorite. I wept at times, cheered at other times, and spent even more time contemplating the world and the men featured in the doco. If you haven’t seen it (or a trailer), I won’t spoil it for you by interjecting my thoughts other than to encourage you to see it by whatever means available to you. Here’s an article on Guillermo Cervera to [hopefully] pique your interest.
Time for me to go try to trim more of Celia’s matted fur. I’m tellin’ you, this cat is full of dreadlocks! I spent an hour carefully cutting away bits and pieces of matted fluff. It was a bit harrowing, but we survived and there’s still more to do. It calls me.
From our home to yours, from our family to yours, may this time of celebration be full of love, joy, and giving with an open heart. May all you give and receive be cherished always.
For King Arthur and I, we’ve spent the past week quietly picking up small gifts for family, lounging around in anticipation of the drive we’ll have later. Monday, Mojo came up to spend some time with me. She brought a project along: baking little Christmas tree cakes and then decorating them. It was heaps of fun and it was delightful to spend time with my girl. Sadly, we did not get together with KA’s grandkids for cooking baking this year. They were such amazing help last year; I could have used their help again this time around. Never fear, we’ll find time in the future to do some baking. I adore them and sharing a family tradition with them is good times for all. Even without them, I managed to make four batches of fudge, two batches of sugar cookies, and two batches of gingerbread cookies.
Also, since Fletch and Celia never spent a Christmas outside of a shelter until now, we’ve been introducing them to the joys of tissue paper pouncing and shredding. Fletch has taken to it like a champ! Celia’s eyeballed it, yet remained wary. She’s back on antibiotics at the moment and is none too pleased with me for giving her the meds. Such is life with cats.
On my Christmas wish list: one day…just ONE day of walking out of the house not covered in fur; one day off from litterbox duty; more lap time; more cuddle time; and healthy kitties from now on.
L.D. is here! Only for a few days, but he’s HERE! We’ve already watched a couple movies today and now we’re having a Celebrity Name Game marathon (I love that show!).
He goes back home on Thursday after dinner. Boo hoo! But we’ll all be together as a family and that’ll be fantastic. Mojo, my folks, my sisters, etc. All together for a lovely meal. And then we all say goodbye. Sigh.
For now, though, I’ll be focusing on enjoying my son’s company and generally having as much fun as possible.
P.S. The cats are happy he’s here, too.
P.P.S. “Quickly, quickly! There’s no time!” Non-Stop with Liam Neeson was a good “edge of your seat” movie. We were all yelling at the TV and trying to guess who the baddies were. So, watch it if you want a good action flick. However, don’t bother with The Counselor as it was slow and the sort of movie you wish you hadn’t wasted your time on.
It’s sometimes very difficult for me to grasp the fact my daughter is anything other than the sweet baby she used to be. But, reality is, I know all too well she’s a grown woman and living her own life. Still, I don’t know how she went from newborn to 22 so quickly!
Mojo is an extraordinary person. She’s proven herself to be motivated, strong, brave, intelligent, tough, tender, generous, funny, thoughtful, kind, and loving. Of course, you’ve all heard this from me at least 12 times. Just as you’ve heard me say how proud I am of her. I can’t help it! It’s all true. Very, very true. And it’s a mother’s perogative to brag at least once a year about her children!
I could go on and on about my daughter and how amazing she is, but instead, I’m going to share a little poem I wrote for her and painted on a table that was in her room once upon a time.
Man in the moon so big and bright
Please watch over me tonight
Shine on us from up above
And bring sweet dreams to those I love
Silly, I know. It’s just a little something I came up with for her dream table (a bedside table that was supposed to bring good dreams). I also used to tell her, “Love you big! Love you bad[ly]! Love you, Beautiful!” That’s what I did instead of “soooo biiiiiiig!” Sigh. So many memories. They’re always with me, but they definitely come to the fore when her birthday rolls around. I can’t help it. She’s always been my little sweetheart. She’s the reason I ever opened my heart to love. She’s the one who taught me the true meaning of unconditional love. She’s the reason I dared to dream of getting married, of having another child, of going back to school to become a nurse, of…everything! She opened up the whole world for me.
A while back, Celia had to go in to have her teeth cleaned. It was at that time all her blood tests had basically come back to relatively normal levels. Me, being me, of course, had to take photos when she came home. This would be them.
Yep. This is my little princess kitty. I love her. Even when she has poop stuck on her tail, I love her. Not enough to let her climb all over me with the poop tail, but I do love her. However, now that we know she can handle the shower, she doesn’t have poop tail any more.
I’ve been sick for a week now. Laryngitis, headache, occasional fever, some congestion. You know the drill. And I’m sick of it. I’ve exhausted all my patience with being sick, of having to strain to be heard, of getting dizzy when I move. I’m so done with it all.
On the plus side: I’ve seen a bunch of good movies, binge watched some shows, almost caught up on all my regular TV shows, read some books, snuggled with the cats, and managed to NOT get King Arthur sick.
Bad news: I got this update from the San Diego Zoological Society in my mailbox:
We regret to inform you that over the weekend we received terrible news: Suni, one of the last remaining northern white rhinos, passed away at the Ol Pejeta Conservancy in Kenya, where he was living with three other northern whites. Poaching is not suspected as the cause of Suni’s death.
This brings the total world population of northern whites down to only six: three remaining in the preserve in Kenya, one at the Dvur Kralove Zoo in the Czech Republic, and two here (including our Nola), at the San Diego Zoo Safari Park.
As profoundly devastating as this news is, with your support we will continue working to save and protect the world’s most threatened species.
You know how I feel about rhinos and this makes me exceedingly sad. For anyone (like you, Pam!) who has watched the Stephen Fry series Last Chance to See, you will likely remember Fry’s trip to Africa (and to the Czech Republic) as he documented the efforts of scientists to move two northern white rhinos to Africa in hopes of getting the few remaining animals breeding. Personally, I hate to think of us losing a magnificent animal in our lifetime simply because humans have hunted them out of existence. And that is exactly what’s been done. Sometimes we humans suck. For more about the death of Suni, Nat Geo has an article very much worth reading.
To end on something more positive, I found a sweet series of photos of stray cats by the same guy who did the series of photos of his neighbors (sans their consent — of which I’m not a fan and find his intent to profit from it a bit exploitive, but no one’s asked my opinion). Anyhow, I figured I’d send you off to look at both and see what you think. (I adore the Strays series immensely as it totally captures the essence of absolute catitude, and while I’m not a fan of the method of capturing the images of The Neighbors, I do see the beauty in the images.) So, go on…have a look, then come back and share your thoughts. I’ll be waiting here with my nasal spray and tissues and remote control.
Little Dude came into the world exactly 18 years ago at this very moment. It seems like only yesterday — in my heart.
I feel so very priviledged to have watched him grow from a tiny bump in my belly to the great man he is surely becoming. I do remember long nights of worry and frustration. I do remember the rough pregnancy, the horrible labor and deliver, and the fear I felt when I was told he was admitted to NICU and I hadn’t even had the chance to hold him in my arms for more than a minute or two. I remember all that and am so very grateful for ALL of it.
If there’s anything truer than what I’m about to say, I don’t know what it could be: Little Dude is an amazing young man. He has been a blessing. Always. Just as his sister has been. I consider myself to be the luckiest mom on the face of this planet to have been gifted such extraordinary children.
While LD is no longer little, he will always be The Dude to me. He will always be the boy who jumped plastic crocodiles, spoke with an Australian accent for two years, convinced his uncle’s family that his name was Steve, who…well, you know. I could go on forever and a day about him. It’s just hard to NOT talk about him.
This is his last birthday at home for a while, I think. He’s already enlisted in the Marine Corps and will start with them right after he finishes with high school. In many ways, I’m excited and in many other ways I’m a scared mom. I’ll never stop worrying about my kids. But I know this: he’s always been a Marine in his heart and he was always going to be one. I’m truly thrilled that he’s pursuing his dreams and setting his own path in life.
So, happy birthday, my dear boy! Follow your dreams and always be true to yourself. I love you to infinity and beyond and then some. Times infinity. To the infinite power.