Da Goddess

My boy. He’s the only reason I’ve bothered getting out of bed the past several days. Aside from getting to the bathroom and getting meds and water, my fuzznugget is THE reason I’ve done anything at all since Friday. He’s pretty much stayed by my side the entire time. He’s a very good boy.

We have ourselves a new friend here in the neighborhood. While the Three Amigos (sadly) seem to be MIA of late, Dr Ginger Longhair has taken the opportunity to make his presence known.

He showed up at the top of the stairs yesterday to have a bath and say hello. Fletch let me know he was there. And for this being a strange cat, Fletch wasn’t at all upset. I think he just wanted to hang out and have cat talk with a friend.

Dr Ginger Longhair was fine until I opened the door and offered him some cat food. At that point, he decided I had gotten close enough and headed down the stairs.

Friends, he was stunning! I find myself longing to see him again. Every time I look out the window and don’t see him, a little piece of me dies. To his credit, Fletch hasn’t made a big deal of it. I think he’s hoping this gets him a playmate.

Cats.

Are you ready for Halloween? I am. And I don’t think Halloween can serve up anything worse than what I’ve been through this week. Yes, I’ve already had my scares. And, yes, I said scares. As in multiple scares.

Let’s start with the winds. And the fires. They’re here. All we can do is be prepared for evacuation at this point. I am totally prepared. Thankfully, after one particularly tense afternoon, I realized we were going to be okay. Others aren’t so lucky and my heart goes out to them.

Today’s humidity stands at 4%. FOUR PERCENT. That’s very, VERY dry. And the winds are alternating between calm and the Wicked Witch is coming for you and your little dog, too.

The winds cause the weathervane on my roof to turn. Unfortunately, when it does turn, it sounds like a ghost crying about how heavy its chains are.

Also, being that my home is about 90 years old, windows sometimes open randomly. Not so much a problem for the windows with screens, but the ones without are usually the ones that pop open. And they usually have the most giant spiders and giant spiderwebs. No bueno. I have enough spiders, thank you very much. I’ve learned to jam paper, cardboard, old gift cards, and everything else I can into the gaps in an attempt to keep them closed. Most stay shut. However, one, in particular, proves difficult. The one with the most giant spider and web. Needless to say, I have been known to wake suddenly and sit bolt upright when I have even the slightest suspicion it’s opened up again. I’m not sleeping well, obviously.

Despite all that, I’m better off than those who are in a fire’s path. I keep praying for firefighters to gain the upper hand on all the fires and let people return home…provided they still have one. Please say a prayer for them.

On to other things.

Then there was the other evening when I returned home after having dinner with my sisters and our mom. Normally, Fletch is waiting at the door. No Fletch. I called for him. Nothing. Panic set in. If he somehow got out, he wouldn’t stand a chance against the local strays or the coyotes that are frequent visitors in these parts. Then, in a burst of inspiration, I rushed to my closet and opened it to discover a VERY upset cat. He bolted out of the closet, practically knocking me over. He’s been known to sneak into closets and cupboards and pantries and just about anywhere he could possibly get closed in. I’m usually very careful about checking for him, shooing him out, and closing doors. I missed him sneaking in behind me as I prepared to leave this time. I was gone all of three hours. He wasn’t happy to have been stuck in the closet, but he was relieved to be let out.

Unfortunately, this was the one time Fletch really really really had to pee while trapped. After tearing apart just about everything stored on the floor, he chose to pee on the two worst things to pee on: a leather backpack (KA paid $5 for it, but it was immensely useful and a personal favorite of mine) and — oh, God, this one really hurts — my camera backpack, complete with three lenses and my old camera. The camera and lenses survived, though I lost a variety of ephemera I can’t replace. The important stuff survived and that’s what matters most.

Throwing out both bags made me want to cry. It was a ridiculous reaction. For one thing, both bags can be replaced (or, y’know, not) and all turned out okay gear-wise. Secondly, I hadn’t used either since moving. Whatever importance they held was strictly (weirdly) sentimental and didn’t warrant tears. Thirdly, Fletch did what he had to do. I can’t fault him for heeding nature’s call. Bodily functions are bodily functions. In fact, I’m kind of proud of him for not getting the urine all over the carpet. Quite thoughtful, if you ask me! Actually, I’m guessing nothing got on the carpet. Every time I’ve opened the closet, I take a significant breath and can’t smell anything.

Now, my new fright is having to find a replacement camera case. I’ve started my search and am overwhelmed. Do I want a rolling bag or a backpack or messenger bag or something else? Do I want a bag capable of carrying two camera bodies, five lenses, a flash, my laptop, and the other accessories necessary for a successful shoot? I don’t have a camera shop nearby where I can dig around and try bags on for size. (I miss you, Calumet!) So, I’m trying to sort through the plethora of options online and finding myself paralyzed by the prospect of making a choice.

After all this, I think I can manage whatever Halloween has in store for me. I have candy for my landlords’ daughter as well as any other kids that might show up. I doubt I’ll see anyone else, but I’m prepared nonetheless. I can always eat whatever’s left.

Saturday is Mojo’s birthday. It’s also the landlords’ daughter’s birthday. Mojo’s gifts were sent and a card is on the way. Little Miss Tiny (Fletch’s name for her) has a couple little, inexpensive presents to open because she’s quite honestly one of my favorite kids I’ve ever met. I can’t help but pick up a book or some other little item for her. Fletch adores her and that’s a ringing endorsement if ever there was one.

I got way off track here and it’s late. This is where the post ends. Except to say:

HAPPY HALLOWEEN!

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I can’t help but love Fletch’s teeny tiny, itty bitty teeth. They look so precious and delicate and I just want to touch them! Actually, I have touched them when he’s in a very deep sleep. I wouldn’t be able to do that while he’s awake.

Most people only think of cats with sharp…pointy…teeth*. I was that way, too. It’s what catches the eye and that’s usually enough. But with my little ginger monster…sigh. I just…and it’s so…because…sigh.

Being on my own with only Fletch at my side, I have a lot of time to simply look at and study him. There’s much to be said for examining your pet. It’s a fun, inexpensive pastime. I recommend it to everyone.

But, seriously, it’s really enjoyable for me to study my little gingersnap and commit my findings to memory and sometimes with a camera. Even if it’s a camera phone.

Don’t look at me that way. It’s a low impact, gentle, quiet, and harmless activity. Plus, it’s free. If you want more from me, you’ll need to hit my PayPal account and help finance another activity.

Oh, hey! There’s an idea! PayPal me $10 or more and give me one idea per donation and I’ll do it (documenting the activity with photos and maybe even a video). The donation should equal the average cost of whatever you chose. And don’t forget, my body is broken and I have to avoid activities that would break it further.

Eh. Probably not, huh? Yeah, I should stick with the cat thing.

* bonus points if you get that reference.

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I find this unbearably adorable. That’s it. Nothing more. Just…this.

Except, this:

Aside from a drink holder from McDonald’s, the best gift I’ve ever given Fletch is a “sock” filled with silver vine.

He won’t leave the thing alone.

This is what I was hoping would happen.

He bites it.

He bunny kicks it.

He rolls his body over it.

He tosses it in the air.

He even sleeps on it.

Right this very moment, he’s lying on it & making little sighs of joy.

Greatest $9 ever spent! (I almost didn’t get it because I wasn’t sure he’d like it. I’m glad my instincts were right.)

I’m going to nap while he’s zonked. Sinuses. Back. Early wake up call from the cutest little sweet potato. You get what I’m saying.

The pharmacy that sends my prescriptions was slow with my pain meds. Today was started on Tylenol, which is only slightly better than nothing. Still, I took it because I needed some sort of relief…anything. Tylenol was my only option. The delivery of my meds is supposed to happen today and I can’t wait.

Since I had no pain meds, my walk was abbreviated this morning. I’ve been gradually adding distance to my meanderings; however, without meds, I basically did just enough to shake some of the stiffness I’ve had. Yesterday, I completed most of my regular route. There were, unfortunately, too many days last week when I did NO walking due to my pain level.

Last week was also notable for serious ankle pain from an old injury exacerbated by a recent fall. I’ve fallen more times in the past six or seven months than I have in the past three or four years combined. Only a couple of the recent falls have had led to new injuries. Thankfully, none have been too TOO bad. Like all our recent earthquakes (I’ve only felt two aftershocks), it leaves me feeling something worse is just around the corner. Waiting for the other shoe to drop is a morbid past time for anyone, but doubly so for me since the insurance company has decided to play games when it comes to allowing me to see doctors with whom I’ve established therapeutic relationships. In other words: the insurance company is full of doodyheads and I’m fighting for every single thing I need.

So, um, that’s what’s happening in my life.

Oooh! Oooh! I forgot: this morning, as I was dumping my recycling in the bin, Tabby Cat came to see me. S/he is one of three strays who visit us sporadically. The other two are: Tux, a dusty gray tabby with white bib and feet. Lean and tall, too. And, Blackie. Blackie is, you guessed it, black. Blackie is the most frequent visitor and also the most skittish. Their visits almost make up for the lack of meds. ALMOST. I’m not an idiot…nothing makes up for no meds. But the cats are a wonderful distraction when I’m not feeling great.

Okay, enough of that. Time to get back to the dazzling magical content you’ve come to expect from me. I’m sorry to disappoint y’all on the regular.

Fletch brings an inordinate amount of joy to my life. Even when he’s being a turd, he’s funny and sweet and weird and a joy.

With this in mind, I thought spending a precious $8 on a toy for the cat was not only appropriate, but it was totally overdue. (It pays to cruise around the internet to find deals as I paid less than half of the normal price.)

Fletch’s M.O. is to lie down next to the toy and then play. He’ll do this for an hour. Then there are the drive-by sessions. Racing through the room, he’ll take a swipe at a ball, bat it around the track, and then run away, only to come back to do it again. There’s also the attack from the top method, wherein he pounces from above and goes absolutely apeshit. This is my favorite method. It’s wild and crazy and all kinds of wrong, but it’s entertaining as fuck.

No matter what’s going on in my life, Fletch makes it better. The only way this could be even more enjoyable is if he could talk.

P.S. Fletch would like you to know this pic in no way captures his current svelte figure. My boy is definitely rockin’ a summer bod these days.

I thought I’d finally start posting pics of my happy little home. The first one is my very tiny kitchen. What you see is the entirety of the kitchen. Except for the small fridge that you can see just the edge of on the right. Yep. My kitchen is really, truly that small. Storage is practically nil. I don’t care much, but I would’ve preferred a bit more counter space and more than just a single, small, awkwardly placed cupboard.

P.S. why is the picture not resized properly? Is it just me not seeing it the right way? Ugh. Doing a post from my phone isn’t the best way to go, but it’s where my pics reside at the moment. I totally need to upload them to the computer. I will. Someday. Someday. Maybe. (Btw, Someday, Someday Maybe by Lauren Graham is an excellent novel. Please read it. Please.)

There’s no such thing as too much Fletch and I realized I’d not posted anything of him since we moved.

He’s my lovely boy. Such a trooper. So sweet. Sometimes an absolute turd. But he’s MY turd. Respect the turd.

“The turd turd turd, the turd is the word…”

Anyhow, enough of that. Please admire the whiskers.

In just about 12hrs, I’ll be loading up trucks with my little bit of furniture and clothing and heading south. My new home awaits and I’m excited/nervous about the whole thing.

I’m a bit worried about the cat. We had an emergency visit to the vet yesterday. He was lethargic and floppy, showing no interest in food, and just looking miserable. He perked up a bit as I was getting in the car, but then just settled in on my lap. Then he was super chill at the vet’s in the waiting room. Didn’t give a shit when barking dogs came in. He just stayed on his chair and looked at me with sad eyes.

When we finally saw the vet, he was less than happy. A thermometer up the old keister has never been his thing. Nor is someone trying to look into his mouth. Or when they put stuff in his ears. When they put stuff on his back? He’s not a fan. By the time they got around to jabbing his rear end with a needle, he’d definitely had enough.

Getting into the car to head home, he wrapped himself around my head. Belly completely covering my face and four sets of claws trying to hold on to the back of my skull.

He’s doing lots better today, but still having moments of blech-i-tude. So I have been cuddling with him as he wishes and pretty much watching him carefully in case he has any distress.

Which is why I’m nervous about the move with him. I’m worried it’ll be too stressful on his system. I’ll be watching him closely!

Other than that, I’m just excited about getting moved. Nervous, too. I keep thinking about the million things I still need to get. New bed. Groceries. Etc. Etc. I have a notebook with three pages of things I need, things I have to do. Address change, phone calls, transportation issues to solve, and more things I haven’t yet considered!

Nervous. Excited. Anxious. Thrilled. Trepidatious. Liberated. It’s enough to turn petrified dinosaur turds liquid.

And this is where we are tonight.

Back to packing and arranging my belongings. I find 30mins at a time is about all I can do. My breaks are spent with Fletch and TV.

Fingers crossed for tomorrow!

Wishing each and every single one of you a very happy Thanksgiving! May you have blessings so numerous you lose count.

I’m so grateful to have made it through this rather trying year in one piece.

I’m grateful my sister has recovered from her stroke.

I’m grateful my mom is still with us.

I’m grateful for my beautiful children.

I’m grateful for my very sweet cat.

I’m grateful for my friends.

I’m grateful for my doctors.

I’m grateful I’m still alive.

I’m so grateful for so many things I can’t think of them all!

Happy Thanksgiving, my dear ones!

Fletch has been a lovely boy lately, allowing me to sleep a bit longer and cuddling up next to me. It’s so sweet and comforting to have him near. He’s my reason for getting up each morning and it’s good to have something to do each day so I don’t curl up and hide away from the world. Because, honestly, I would very much like to hide from everyone and everything when I’m hurting, which is a constant state of being these days.

Fletch is my greatest source of comfort. He’s always here to make me smile, to calm my nerves, to keep my mind working as I look for ways to challenge him (I don’t just hand him treats, I make him earn them).

I don’t know what I’d do without this goofy little guy. I adore everything about this nut.

Fletch kitty is so much better today!

I have no idea what made him sick in the first place, but I’m super grateful he’s better now.

He’s back to begging for treats, playing, and head butting me for scritches. He’s kneading blankets, purring, and seeking buddy time (his version of the “almost” cuddle). Currently, he’s lying atop the couch behind me.

My favorite part of Fletch feeling better is watching him sun himself in the window. You know your cat isn’t feeling well when he won’t sun himself.

I’m breathing easier, grateful that whatever was wrong is now right again. I cannot deal with more loss at this point. Y’all hear me?! God have mercy on me.

Fletch is doing so much better today. He’s a little more playful, eating like it’s his job, and he’s back to patrolling the perimeter windows, keeping us safe from the neighborhood strays.

I’ll continue to be on alert, though, until he’s begging to be fed every few hours.

My sweet fuzzy baby…he means the world to me. I can’t help but worry.