So, how are you?
I will give you a brief and whacky update.
a) Mid-December last year I drove down to the boat iwth a friend and we walked on to our different destinations for the weekend. I was going to my dads and when I finally got there (car, boat, bus, train, bus, dad) his fam mentioned that he'd been barfing a lot.
Fasfwd to February and sisterRuthy and I went over to take him to the doc at Vancouver Hosp where he learned he had terminal liver cancer.
We alternated back and forth to be there and the goddam covid hit. I didn't go to Vancouver again until the 3rd week of April, not leaving my car from my house to their house. I was there 10 days later where it looked to me that things had advanced, my sister brought her kids for a daytrip to "see" (say goodbye) to grandpa and Ruthy and I returned 2 days later and were with him through the long difficult night of his death.
I am not over it.
I have supported 4 people through their last days and hours and each are different. This was harsh, friends.
He struggled, despite the haldol and morphine on deck. We sat on either side trying to comfort and soothe. His wife and my littlesisterClaire slept through, which is not a bad thing.
In July beloved Soma was not keeping food down and was pooping/peeing decidedly not in the litter box. He was 18.5, the vet said there were more medications to try but if you saw him arch and retch ..I was not going to submit him to any more medical experiments and he was euthanized on the 10th, I stroking and speaking softly, I love you Soma, through a mask.
It has been a hard year but my boat is steady and safe.
I turned 60 in March.
I TURNED FUCKING 60 IN MARCH and in July my truest sisters threw a party in Ruthy's backyard and they gave me a kayak.
THEY GAVE ME A FUCKING KAYAK
that's me up there, playing the risky game of pulling my cell out of the waterproof compartment.
I haven't worked since we moved here, Nato's always been WFH, our bubble is tiny, my backyard hosts a parade of deer who eat every flower (and I love them) and the occasional bear who I love even more but I clap them away so they don't get too comfy around humans.
kitkat Malcolm is still the dearest baby and it's been not always excellent watching him adapt to being the only cat. No longer the baby (12 year old baby) he's lost his buddy/victim so I have stepped it up in chase and spank and tried to keep him engaged and active. He has taken to leash walks and we do that a couple times a day at least. Just around the yard but I want to take him to the beach, or at least the bench that looks at the beach.
An encounter with a dog would be superduper not good so I'm not sure how/if I will work it out.
being a cat....so, so exhausting
How are you I said?
a) Mid-December last year I drove down to the boat iwth a friend and we walked on to our different destinations for the weekend. I was going to my dads and when I finally got there (car, boat, bus, train, bus, dad) his fam mentioned that he'd been barfing a lot.
Fasfwd to February and sisterRuthy and I went over to take him to the doc at Vancouver Hosp where he learned he had terminal liver cancer.
We alternated back and forth to be there and the goddam covid hit. I didn't go to Vancouver again until the 3rd week of April, not leaving my car from my house to their house. I was there 10 days later where it looked to me that things had advanced, my sister brought her kids for a daytrip to "see" (say goodbye) to grandpa and Ruthy and I returned 2 days later and were with him through the long difficult night of his death.
I am not over it.
I have supported 4 people through their last days and hours and each are different. This was harsh, friends.
He struggled, despite the haldol and morphine on deck. We sat on either side trying to comfort and soothe. His wife and my littlesisterClaire slept through, which is not a bad thing.
In July beloved Soma was not keeping food down and was pooping/peeing decidedly not in the litter box. He was 18.5, the vet said there were more medications to try but if you saw him arch and retch ..I was not going to submit him to any more medical experiments and he was euthanized on the 10th, I stroking and speaking softly, I love you Soma, through a mask.
It has been a hard year but my boat is steady and safe.
I turned 60 in March.
I TURNED FUCKING 60 IN MARCH and in July my truest sisters threw a party in Ruthy's backyard and they gave me a kayak.
THEY GAVE ME A FUCKING KAYAK
that's me up there, playing the risky game of pulling my cell out of the waterproof compartment.
I haven't worked since we moved here, Nato's always been WFH, our bubble is tiny, my backyard hosts a parade of deer who eat every flower (and I love them) and the occasional bear who I love even more but I clap them away so they don't get too comfy around humans.
kitkat Malcolm is still the dearest baby and it's been not always excellent watching him adapt to being the only cat. No longer the baby (12 year old baby) he's lost his buddy/victim so I have stepped it up in chase and spank and tried to keep him engaged and active. He has taken to leash walks and we do that a couple times a day at least. Just around the yard but I want to take him to the beach, or at least the bench that looks at the beach.
An encounter with a dog would be superduper not good so I'm not sure how/if I will work it out.
being a cat....so, so exhausting
How are you I said?