We found out Tuesday that a sweet kitten currently named “Pomona” will be coming to live with us. We (especially I) can’t wait. No patience, remember?
Her goodies are on the way and should be delivered by FedEx tomorrow. Her carrier should be here Friday morning. We’re to pick her up and bring her home Friday afternoon.
We have a ride lined up, and we’re good to go. Except….
Have you heard the weather forecast? If you have, and you wouldn’t mind, we could use your prayers to hold off that heavy snowfall until after Sweetums gets here.
Surprised by her nickname? Gosh, I’ve given all our fur babies nicknames over the years. I’ve had a suggestion or two from a friend of mine – and yes, they were hilarious. I might even use them a time or two. Thanks, Anna.
We’ll have a new bed, toys, her favorite food and especially two loving humans waiting to welcome a very special kitty into our home.
I can’t wait to settle in with a good book, a cup of tea and a sleepy kitten.
Well, we applied for a young cat currently named “Ponoma”. She’s a sweet-looking little thing, all orange-y and furry and such.
I want to name her Bernadette. Bernadette M. Washburn, “BMW”, so, of course her nickname could be “Beemer”. I like it.
I’ve got some stuff on hold in a cart on Chewy.com – I want to make sure I get her the litter and food she’s used to.
That is – if we are approved. It stands to reason the shelter will want to know all about us and I had to report we returned Blacki to the Kewanee shelter. I’m not sure it matters if our reasons were because of our health issues, but we’ll see.
I’ve imagined Bernadette living here, snuggling in her bed, pouncing on us, meowing in the middle of the night. We’ve had cats before and each one was different, as were our dogs. We’ve had pets our entire married life.
So, we wait. We applied late this last week. I’m not the most patient person in the world but I think I’m doing okay.
How in the world does one justify taking on the care of a kitten when they’re in need of care themselves?
Gary used to take care of me; now, I take care of him. But you’ve heard all about that. I’m trying to understand my state of mind and wondering where my common sense went – if I ever had any.
Every night when we pretty much collapse after the end of a long day I feel the pang of loss – the loss of a furry friend curling up next to one of us, demanding attention, stealing food or getting into other kinds of mischief.
I was rapidly losing the ability to deal with most of that. I couldn’t just jump up and handle things with Blacki. I just couldn’t. The pain was too fierce, especially at that time of night. And there were the bathroom trips – outside, inside, outside, inside. It was too much.
But a cat? A cat I can handle. We’ve had lots of the little furry critters over the years. They all had their own personality. So do dogs. But they’re different, you know? They snuggle (some of them, anyway), purr, play, sleep on your head, bite your toes and jump up on counters and tables. They climb curtains and race around for no reason.
I have so much room in my heart for a kitten. Maybe I should let one find us, but I hope they hurry. Every night (and day) without one is one too many.
A few years ago Vonnie was musing how she needed a separate calendar for various things. She and Tom had one doctor/specialist visit after another, and along with ordinary important dates, her calendar runneth over. Hence, she came up with a great idea.
She figured she needed a calendar for her and Tom’s appointments, another for birthdays and anniversaries, and a regular one for, well, regular stuff.
The idea was gold, but it wasn’t implemented like she hoped. Now I’m seeing the need for the same.
My work calendar gets more crowded by the day (pun intended). It’s the nature of the job; it’s going to keep changing and getting full. I get that.
The other calendar, for now, would be just for Gary. Though I have to say, his doctor visits are slowing down a bit. He’s had great news about his stomach scope – no cancer! We just found that out last week.
We’ve been to his regular doctor (finally!!!) and he was prescribed a nebulizer (that’s a story unto itself), and an inhaler of sorts. That, too, is another story.
Gary is feeling a tad better, though he still walks bent over and gets winded easily. It’s going to take a while, a long while, but we’re taking it one day at a time. (Again with the calendar talk!)
There was an incident at work, not the location here in town, but where I spend my time. It was a stunning display that I probably will never forget and it resulted in something I find incredibly sad. It’s had such an impact on me I just can’t stop thinking about it.
To top it off, we had a visitor at our home last night that ended up with me calling the police and making a report. The visitor was definitely “not okay”, and frankly, I was scared. Neither of us could have done much to defend ourselves if I’d let the person inside; in fact, I shouldn’t have opened the door after they called out their name.
My heart is heavy over what happened, and I can’t help wondering where they are now. This isn’t the first time the person had a breakdown but it is the first time I know for sure they know where I live. I keep the curtains shut and the door locked, and I keep my head on a swivel whenever I go out, which isn’t much.
You know what? I think I need a vacation. One of these days….
I wanted to show you the gorgeous tea set I write about below but I’ll have to wait until I can upload it. Try to imagine it until it appears above. (I found it!)
When I was a kid, Diane and I played house – a lot. We didn’t have a two-parent household so I just “played” at what I gathered at school from classmates who, to me, had a normal home life.
I longed for a mom and dad for us. A dad who worked all day, came home and ate supper with us, then played with us until time for bed. Since that didn’t happen, I used our dolls as a family, then served meals with our plastic tea set.
We didn’t just play house. I loved dinosaurs, too, and played with those at Aunt Mary’s house in Kewanee.
I don’t know how many years ago it was but Vonnie and I were shopping in Peoria when we decided to visit Pier One. We loved that store and it usually took several trips around the inside in order to see everything.
I saw the tea set I wanted, but I gave it some time and looked at other things. I came back to the set and decided to buy it. At that time I didn’t drink tea; I just wanted to re-live my childhood.
Years later Vonnie needed a silent auction gift so I gave her the set. It’s such a beautiful color and we thought someone would grab it but it didn’t sell, so it came home with her. She kept it atop her refrigerator for a long time until one day, when she decided to have a yard sale. She mentioned she was selling it and I, of course, was broke.
I asked if she’d consider selling it to me and I think she forgot how she got it. When I told her, she insisted I take it home. Some time passed, but eventually I brought it home.
Lots of things remind me of her: Kohl’s ads, inspirational books, Philippians 4:6-7, Bible studies, Chevy Tahoes – and my tea set.
Memories. Gotta love ’em. Cherish yours and make as many good ones as you possibly can.
Yesterday I had so much to do for Gary I met myself coming and going. A big part of being able to handle that much running around depends on the pain level in my legs and feet, and yesterday the discomfort was off the charts. I just chalked it up to too much walking and getting in and out of the car.
Well. The first inclination that something was amiss came when I almost tripped up the outside steps bringing in a load of stuff from the car. I thought, “Great. These shoes aren’t all that old and they’re already falling apart.”
Okay, I get it. I’m 65 and bound to make some missteps (pun intended) when it comes to everyday living but, hey, when I noticed I was wearing two different shoes I have to admit that took me aback.
The shoes are very similar. They’re black tie-ons but I still thought they were far enough away from each other that this could never have happened. But it did and boy did it feel funny walking all over Creation wearing them.
Makes me wonder if I’m the right person to be caring for my sweetheart. I haven’t told him yet – I mean, what if he fires me?
When I opened my eyes this morning I knew it was Doctor Day – finally.
Gary was in an unusually good mood and I think I know why. Some folks will tell you they’re “fine”, or even “feeling better” even when they definitely are NOT. He’s one of those folks. I asked him to please not respond that way to the nurse and doctor if they asked him how he felt. He got grouchy again and said he wouldn’t.
We got there on time, and out came the nurse with some news. “We have an ‘issue’ with the breathing machine,” she started to say and that’s when I noticed Gary get agitated. She said the printer used with the machine was out of ink – yes, I said out of ink – and did we want to reschedule?
Gary piped right up and told her in no uncertain terms he wouldn’t make to the “next time”. She explained someone forgot to order ink but if he wanted to see the doctor anyway he could do it but there would be no breath test and no results.
Cutting to the chase, the doctor gave us some inhaler-type medicine (I found out later it would cost us over $700 a month for that medicine, so that’s a no-go.) and two prescriptions, one for use in a nebulizer. I called the place where we could get one (Medicare pays for that) but they told me they had none and weren’t going to be getting any more – ever.
I went to Walmart to get his meds, gave back the nebulizer medicine and was told they had no clue where to get a nebulizer. Back to the doctor’s office and was given a number in Geneseo to see if they have any. If not, I’m to Google them and see where I can fine one.
I’m pooped. Seriously pooped. He’s had a dose of his new meds and is sleeping. So, we got half of what we need and we’re on a new quest to get the rest.