(no subject)
So, it's been a year and a half.
Hi.
I'm afraid if I start writing I'll never stop, so I'm just going to update with stuff that happened today.
Ashley moved to Kansas City in February. She has a new job, which she really loves. Unfortunately, she has a boyfriend (that's not the unfortunate part) who lives in Baltimore. He's in KC right now, and she texted me a picture of him getting a tattoo today, telling me how jealous she is and to please wire her money so she can get one, too. (I didn't.)
Erin, Nic, and the three hooligans took the train to NYC today, to spend the weekend. Nic has their visit planned down to the minute, but as usual, rushed them so much this morning that they got on the train without having breakfast, and with less snacks than Erin wanted to bring. He also refused to take the stroller, so they're schlepping around New York with a four-year old and two two-year olds, on foot. I got a million enraged texts from her today, but as I tried to tell her, without pissing her off even more, why do you let him do that stuff? None of this is new. Anyway, nothing has changed. The boys are beyond adorable, wild as can be, Nic is an ass, Erin is unhappy but finally back on antidepressants, and I'm going to see them next month, because Sebastian saw a plane fly over their house the other day and FaceTimed me to ask why I wasn't on it.
Adam is working on opening a bonsai garden about 45 minutes out of Tokyo. We were there last month and his place is beautiful. They found a property with three acres and a great house, which is pretty unusual in Japan, apparently. He called today to ask my opinion on what he plans on charging visitors for bonsai garden tours, day-long workshops at his garden, quarantine and import fees, etc. I'm also supposed to be writing the copy for his website. Like, right now, I need to get it done tonight. Which is why I'm doing this instead.
Neville is getting old. He'll be 12 soon. His right kneecap keeps slipping out of place, like every third step, so he needs to be carried around a lot. He has a very preemptory bark when he needs something. I'm getting some sticky stuff for the bottom of his feet give him some traction, which I hope works. Poor baby.
We acquired another dog last December. A five-year old - well, he's six now - Frenchie. The story is murky, lots of secrets, no one was prosecuted, I don't even think there was an investigation, but someone held him over, then lowered him into an open fire. His chest, face, and all four feet were badly burned. His foster mother had a friend who happened to work in the burn program with Larry and asked his advice about his feet, and we said, here's what dressing to use and we'll take him. He's a white Frenchie and had to wear socks while his feet healed, so we had no choice but to name him Dobby. His right front foot didn't heal well - the pads fused and what's left is very thin, and his two middle toes kept poking through - so Wednesday he had surgery to amputate those toes. He's quite drugged up at the moment, because it hurts, but he's the nicest, friendliest, most loving dog I've ever met. His favorite thing to do is meet new people, because they might tell him how cute he is. I try not to be filled with rage when we deal with his problems, but that's a pretty chronic state for me these days, anyway, so it's not easy.
Lar retired from the burn program at the end of June, but started the beginning of this month as the director of the outpatient wound program. There's no call, no weekends, and it's only three days a week, so he's somewhat more cheerful and less exhausted. Forty years of being on call has kind of beaten him down, so I let him be cranky. He's now a reformed - and appalled - ex-Republican and spends all day watching MSNBC, shaking his head and asking me how we got here. I tell him every time that's what happens when you vote for Republicans. I'm grateful for that conversion, at least, even if there's only so much MSNBC one can take. All. Day. Long.
I'm fine. (she says in the same tone Emma Thompson says it to Alan Rickman at the end of "Love, Actually) I'm heading to Orlando Sunday to spend a day and a half at Disney World with silveryscrape. Luckily I have a wound doctor around to handle Dobby's dressing changes while I'm gone.
Hi.
I'm afraid if I start writing I'll never stop, so I'm just going to update with stuff that happened today.
Ashley moved to Kansas City in February. She has a new job, which she really loves. Unfortunately, she has a boyfriend (that's not the unfortunate part) who lives in Baltimore. He's in KC right now, and she texted me a picture of him getting a tattoo today, telling me how jealous she is and to please wire her money so she can get one, too. (I didn't.)
Erin, Nic, and the three hooligans took the train to NYC today, to spend the weekend. Nic has their visit planned down to the minute, but as usual, rushed them so much this morning that they got on the train without having breakfast, and with less snacks than Erin wanted to bring. He also refused to take the stroller, so they're schlepping around New York with a four-year old and two two-year olds, on foot. I got a million enraged texts from her today, but as I tried to tell her, without pissing her off even more, why do you let him do that stuff? None of this is new. Anyway, nothing has changed. The boys are beyond adorable, wild as can be, Nic is an ass, Erin is unhappy but finally back on antidepressants, and I'm going to see them next month, because Sebastian saw a plane fly over their house the other day and FaceTimed me to ask why I wasn't on it.
Adam is working on opening a bonsai garden about 45 minutes out of Tokyo. We were there last month and his place is beautiful. They found a property with three acres and a great house, which is pretty unusual in Japan, apparently. He called today to ask my opinion on what he plans on charging visitors for bonsai garden tours, day-long workshops at his garden, quarantine and import fees, etc. I'm also supposed to be writing the copy for his website. Like, right now, I need to get it done tonight. Which is why I'm doing this instead.
Neville is getting old. He'll be 12 soon. His right kneecap keeps slipping out of place, like every third step, so he needs to be carried around a lot. He has a very preemptory bark when he needs something. I'm getting some sticky stuff for the bottom of his feet give him some traction, which I hope works. Poor baby.
We acquired another dog last December. A five-year old - well, he's six now - Frenchie. The story is murky, lots of secrets, no one was prosecuted, I don't even think there was an investigation, but someone held him over, then lowered him into an open fire. His chest, face, and all four feet were badly burned. His foster mother had a friend who happened to work in the burn program with Larry and asked his advice about his feet, and we said, here's what dressing to use and we'll take him. He's a white Frenchie and had to wear socks while his feet healed, so we had no choice but to name him Dobby. His right front foot didn't heal well - the pads fused and what's left is very thin, and his two middle toes kept poking through - so Wednesday he had surgery to amputate those toes. He's quite drugged up at the moment, because it hurts, but he's the nicest, friendliest, most loving dog I've ever met. His favorite thing to do is meet new people, because they might tell him how cute he is. I try not to be filled with rage when we deal with his problems, but that's a pretty chronic state for me these days, anyway, so it's not easy.
Lar retired from the burn program at the end of June, but started the beginning of this month as the director of the outpatient wound program. There's no call, no weekends, and it's only three days a week, so he's somewhat more cheerful and less exhausted. Forty years of being on call has kind of beaten him down, so I let him be cranky. He's now a reformed - and appalled - ex-Republican and spends all day watching MSNBC, shaking his head and asking me how we got here. I tell him every time that's what happens when you vote for Republicans. I'm grateful for that conversion, at least, even if there's only so much MSNBC one can take. All. Day. Long.
I'm fine. (she says in the same tone Emma Thompson says it to Alan Rickman at the end of "Love, Actually) I'm heading to Orlando Sunday to spend a day and a half at Disney World with silveryscrape. Luckily I have a wound doctor around to handle Dobby's dressing changes while I'm gone.