"It's Gonna Take More Than a Hand/ To Turn This Thing Around..."
The Hellraiser reboot is one of many that I am in complete denial over so I'm just gonna put that out there. On the up side... sparkly puzzle cube?
It's freaking cold. I mean yeah, New England in winter, but damn. And of course I went grocery shopping on the coldest, windiest night thus far, because... me and Nature have a thing, apparently. It's not a good thing. I protest this thing.
Before I get into this, I'm just going to say that I have half-siblings that I don't know very well, and there are circumstances, and I'm just not the type to be close to anyone just because of blood relations. I mean, I'm not not wanting to be close or anything, it's just... life in different directions, you know? The very sudden news that my oldest half-brother was in the final stages of cancer and being moved to hospice care was... odd. I didn't wish him any ill and I met him in person (that I can remember) once, e-mailed a few times, so... between me just being an empty heartless shell and general distance, I guess the effect was minimal. I mean, it's a shame, I'm sad to know it happened, and I'm hoping my father is actually okay since he wasn't able to be there, but. I don't know. Weird. Death is kind of weird, though. And cancer is a goddamn asshole.
So then we flip to the other side of the blood-relations and apparently my grandmother is having some heart problems. Great. This woman is pretty much a locomotive. In every possible way. Powering through fucking anything and everything. She's the one who would pull her car up to houses and fucking steal malnourished and abused dogs, broad daylight, sometimes from neighbors, never got shit from anyone because everyone fucking knew better. (I really do "come from a long line", folks.) But even locomotives run down, of course. She's been back and forth since my grandfather died, which was really tough on her since the dementia took him a couple of days before he actually died. I was pretty sure she was actually going to die in a fucking knife fight over another dog or something, not heart troubles. I guess we'll see.
And then my puppy got kennel cough somehow. Granted, Cassie is an 11-year-old puppy, but as we all know, all dogs are puppies and all cats are kitties and if you don't know this then I don't know what you're doing here. Anyway. She's always had a bit of a cough, but about three days ago it suddenly got so much worse, so to the only trust-worthy vet left in existence (it seems like) we went. She's on her third full day of antibiotics, and the cough has changed into something more hopeful... but the fact the cough is expected to last for weeks regardless is troubling. She does love honey, though, so we've been giving her a little of that every so often, which seems to help. I remember how awful seemingly endless coughing fits are, you see, and I just want to make sure she's not constantly uncomfortable. From the way she still has her full appetite and energy level, I'm not too worried about her recovery.
But hell, it's not like things are bad or anything. The past couple of weeks have just been busy in ways. But I plan to make chili this weekend, I can afford all my bills and some extra supplies even after being such an idiot and snagging a couple of Transformers for cheap even though Figma Motoko releases this month (supposedly), I got Metal Gear Rising new for $8, I'm knee-deep in... more projects than I want to count, but hopefully that means I'll actually finish more soon, and I was able to help a couple of people out recently even if in small ways. I wonder if anyone would be interested in occasional cookie mail-outs if I asked for shipping to be covered..? I don't know, it's a thought. I usually only bake for myself and the dog, so there's a lot that gets stored in the freezer.