Merry Christmas!

From all the fam...

Rest In Peace, Scooter

I loved you a lot and my heart is breaking but the necrotizing pancreatitis left your insides too far gone for there to be anything but a few days of suffering left for you.

Hurry Up And Wait

Exploratory surgery.  There's something blocking Scooter's intestines and they can't tell what it is from sonograms and x-rays.  And so I sit tapping my fingers and waiting for the vet to call while my stomach ties itself in knots, knowing that one option is that it's cancer and he shouldn't be woken up.

You Know How You Save For Christmas?

All year.  I do.  And I stick to that budget.  And I also save the money I will need for holiday traveling.  So proud of myself.

But I'm currently at the local animal hospital with my cat Scooter and the bill is already $1500.  And they aren't even sure what's wrong yet other than he's anemic and his white blood cell count is through the roof.

Talk about a budget buster.  I save for vet bills, too.  But at check-up and inoculation level.  Not emergency hospitalization level.

So, I've Been Thinking...

I swore that you could put a gun to my head and I still wouldn't vote for a Democrat.  I'd write in Mickey Mouse first.  But it does occur to me that as a registered Independent I can ask for whatever ballot I please for the primary elections.  Which means I could ask for a Democrat ballot and vote for the weakest candidates.  Gotta think about that.

Works For Me

Got a new bishop a few months ago.  Comes from Montgomery County, MD.  The place I fled.  He has been making pastoral visits to introduce himself.  While most people are probably just glad to get a bishop who isn't slapping seminarian butts and stealing our money to fund the high life, I wondered how many in my WV congregation caught his reference to "common sense gun control" in his homily.  And if anyone has pointed out that this is WV, not a Stupid State, and that he was surrounded by guns at every Mass and as we greeted him afterward.

BWAHAHAHAHA

Took me a minute but then it clicked.

OUT!

My chemo port.  Finally.  Every time my hand brushed my throat and I felt the tube that fed into a vein it creeped me out.

Contemplating saving my pennies and eventually incorporating the scar in a small Celtic tree of life tattoo.

High Wind Warning

You know when places have high wind warnings and warn about flying debris?  They aren't kidding.  The Detroit area has gale force winds and my son-in-law walked outside.  Flying piece of metal.  He's still at the hospital.

Cartilage severed from nose, chunk missing from head, 25 stitches, and a gnarly scar in his future. All from a 6 ft piece of flying sheet metal ripped off a neighbor's roof by the wind.

I Thought The Threat Of Coal In The Stocking Was Enough

Distractions

I have a lot of them these days.  Most of them furry and 4 legged.

There's my two oldest cats.  And Copper.  Who, after spending 2 days in doggy hospital for what turned out to be giardia, decided to double in size while retaining a puppy brain and the inclination to mischief that goes with it. One pair of headphones, a rug, two broken lamps, and a broken wine glass later...

And 2 of the original 4 foster kittens are still with me.  Larger, but just as kittenish as Copper is puppyish.  They've made their own contribution to breakage.

And then there's still appointments and such at the tail end of my cancer treatment - echocardiograms and blood tests, a podiatrist dealing with the nuisance damage chemo left my feet with, and followups here and followups there.

And walking the dog and spending time at the dog park and cleaning multiple cat pans and feeding everybody including occasionally myself and cleaning up after everybody.

So I get distracted.

When my hair finally grew back in I found that really, really short hair is not only easier but way cheaper, so I bough electric clippers with different length guards and I've been doing it myself.  Just snap in the no. 5 guard and buzz the head.  This afternoon I pulled out the clippers and the guard, oiled the clippers, and laid guard and clippers on the sink.  A kitten chose that moment to jump up onto everything.  I put the kitten back on the floor.  Grabbed the clippers and made the first sweep across my head.  Only to realize that the kitten had distracted me enough that I had neglected to put the guard on.

Leaving me with a reverse mohawk.  Yeeaaaahhhh....that can't be combed over.  Good thing I kept my hats because the only thing to do was shave the rest of it off.

Did I mention that I have distractions?

One Can Always Hope...

Odd Bits...

...shamelessly stolen from various Facebook posts.

Sigh...

People who left years before you did and who you would probably never see again anyway...Yet stumbling on the notice of their death is still upsetting.

My Life...

...involves a lot of fur.

So Here's A Suggestion For...

... those supporting the endless fabricated Trump investigations:

How about you investigate the brown spot that's been in your underpants since Nov. 2016?  It will be hard.  You'll have to stop drumming your heels and screaming and get up off the floor.  You will have to pull that bunched material out of your crotch.  And you might actually have to put on big girl panties.

I Don't Have To...

...feed the cats.  The inside ones.  The outside ones.  The fosters. Or clean their pans.

Or juggle the exhausting puppy and his needs around everybody else's while being scared to death because I have no idea what to do with such a big, energetic puppy.

Or get to an appointment.  Although I'm sort of looking  forward to the next psuedo-chemo:  it's my last treatment and I get to ring the big bell as I leave.

I think I've tried to return to a normal life too quickly.  I took on too much too fast. Got so exhausted.  But now palmettos, the Gulf Stream, fabulous food within walking distance, and the little bit of paradise known as Folly Beach, SC, gets to work its magic.

And I finally got to see the Hunley.  All these years and I've never been able to see it before. It was just a legend when I first came to that gem called Charleston, SC. 

Now excuse me while I work through local beers while watching the surf roll in.

And, oh, there's this little Caribbean place just down the street that makes astounding posole.

I had that yesterday.  I may do their tacos for dinner tonight.

My Granddaughter's First Shot...

She's 6.  She has great parents.

Not To Compete With Murphy's Law...

...but this is another reason I've been quiet;

Found by a friend in the middle of June, weighed 10 lbs, starving and mange ridden.  Has gained 15 lbs.  I've never had a dog before, let along a hound puppy.  I didn't need a puppy.  I keep going over it in my mind but every time I come back to the fact that my friend absolutely couldn't keep him and his life was down to a kill shelter or 23 hours a day in a crate.  He has no manners, but he loves every person and every dog he meets.  He tears up everything he can get hold of, including me. If we survive puppyhood, though, I think he will be magnificent.

I Know It's Not Right To Take Revenge On One Of God's Creatures...

...but if I can find someone I can borrow a flamethrower from that yellow jacket's nest is going to DIE DIE DIE!

They got in my clothes.  I'm in a world of hurt.

Heart Warming...

...to see such tolerance.

"After today there is no longer any room for nuance. The President is a white nationalist terror leader. His supporters - ALL OF THEM - are by definition white nationalist terror supporters. The MAGA hat is a KKK hood. And this evil, racist scourge must be eradicated from society." Reza Aslan, CNN contributor, liberal "intelectual."

Welcome, Grand-niece!

This...

...and this.

I'm Very Busy

But here and there I've started telling people what I think of them and unfriending them on Facebook.  I only generally use Facebook to see pics and videos of my grandbaby.  Otherwise I'd delete my account.  But stuff pops up in my feed.

I guess you could think of it as liberating.  Nothing matters.  Not the record unemployment in minority communities.  Not the return of the manufacturing industries that Obama said were gone forever.  Not the increasing salaries. Not my own state, lost economically since the 50s, suddenly seeing its economy taking off like a rocket.  I'm just a racist and so it doesn't matter anymore.  So I can say and do anything I like now.  I'm a racist, you're a racist, we're all racists.  So we might as well do and say whatever we want.  We're still going to be racists.

Oh, and because we support gun ownership because we're intelligent enough to actually research things, we are also fans of mass murderers.

Screw them all.  Every last lazy and ignorant one of them.

It's Not That There's Nothing To Post About...

...but everybody is probably as annoyed as I am about The Stupid.  And posting about it.

Am I the only one who knows that about 6,000 people A DAY die from car accidents in this country?  El Paso and Dayton are tragic but are the unsurprising result of our "everybody has their own truth" society.  A society that cheers when you can legally cut a 9 month along baby up and suck it into a bucket.  I have to say that I didn't blink an eye the last couple days.  I wasn't surprised.  And that's not because I'm a racist.

Pinchy, Picky, Pully

Thank you, Tim, for making me laugh out loud to this day.  I hope you and Harvey are already making each other laugh again.

He's Alive!

Well. Detroit Area Catholics Have a Privilege Other Catholics Don't Have...

If you are familiar with Catholic Lenten practices, you know that during Lent Fridays are days of abstinence from meat.  This is actually much looser than it once was, when meat was forbidden during the entirety of the the season. Except in the Detroit area.  Apparently, during the 1700s, missionaries realized that food was already scarce by Lent and didn't want to burden their flock by forbidding a readily available source of nutrition.

Yep.  Muskrat.  For purposes of Lent, not meat.  Also, according to the late Bishop Kenneth Povish, the one-time head of the Lansing Diocese: "Anybody that eats muskrat is doing an act of penance worthy of the greatest of saints."

What I wonder, though, is if there IS a restriction on how it's prepared:

H/T My sister and Detroit Free Press

How Do They Do That?

Someone carrying cans of gasoline is nabbed in St. Patrick's Cathedral in New York a couple days after the Notre Dame fire and they say "The man's intentions were not immediately known."  How do you say something that stupid with a straight face?

I've Got A Bridge To Sell You

Holy Week.

The sentencing to 8 years in jail on Friday of a perpetrator of the failed 2016 car bomb attack on Notre Dame.

Thousands of attacks on French churches.

The clutter of renovation, which would make it much easier for an unauthorized person to wander around.

There is exactly zero chance I'll ever believe that so many coincidences came together at once and it was just an accident.

Charles Martel weeps because the land he sacrificed so much for is gone - voluntarily.

Attacks on French churches over the last 4 years

Poland is also full of churches. They haven't had this problem.  I wonder why?

I Know It's Technically Just A Building...

...but watching Notre Dame burn hurts my heart.

Even if you aren't Catholic, that's more than 900 years of history going up in flames.

Funny thing was that when I heard I had 2 thoughts at once:  "Muslims" and "Old wiring". 

It's Dead

A hook above the TV that I need to move is, anyway.  I've shot it repeatedly, and it's thoroughly dead. 

My hands are getting stronger and the sensitivity is abating.  My plan now is to make up a magazine's worth of  dummies and rack and fire, rack and fire. Then reload the magazine and rack and fire, rack and fire.  Gives me an excuse to not climb up there and move the hook like it needs to be moved.

And, yes, even though I know that I haven't reloaded this gun since I brought it down to practice with, I check it every time before I start dry-firing. 

What Tam Said

Even if it is a bad guy and not a family member, pet, or drunk neighbor, ensconcing oneself in a safe position, dialing 911, and loudly announcing that you have a gun and have called the cops is likely to save money for carpet cleaning bills and legal fees.    

Tam pretty much states my plan.  I have a loaded gun next to the sofa downstairs.  My plan if I ever hear anything that sounds like an unwanted visitor breaking in is to grab the gun, release the safety, and... not try to go upstairs.  Out the door and a phone call to the police would be the plan.  Upstairs, same thing.  Grab the gun, quietly close and lock the bedroom door, put the bed between myself and the door, and call 911.  With the last part not so quiet.  Bangety is great fun in the controlled environment of the range, and I've made the decision that I will go bangety if I ever really have to,  but I'd rather not go bangety unless absolutely forced into it.  And I don't want to be having to move myself and the cats into a hotel room in the middle of the night because there's a nasty mess in the hallway.

I do have the advantage of security cameras around the house that constantly feed to my phone.  I don't have to go check out a noise:  I just pull the feed up.  Given that I live in the woods, there's lots of noise around my house, even in the winter. Raccoons and opossums are nightly visitors because I have food out for the ferals.  After so many years, I can tell which one is out there just by how much noise they make: the opossum is much quieter in its explorations than the raccoon is.  I hear movement and a bit of dish rattling but not the rambunctious thumping and bumping the raccoon makes.

Funny thing is that the largest of my visitors is the one I've never heard.  I haven't seen any sign of him yet this year, but last year he explored my decks and porch several times.  And pooped on my steps, wrecked the metal crook the bird feeder hangs from, and got into the garbage the one night I forgot and left the bin out.  That was the only way I knew he'd been by until I checked the security video.

So, If I Understand This Correctly...

...a hate crime was committed against Jussie Smollett by two Nigerian-Americans...

...and the Chicago Chief of Police...

...and because Smollett was innocent he paid $10,000 and did community service before it went to trial so all is good now? 

Yep, the American legal system is convoluted.  Or maybe it's just the Chicago legal system.  

The Bombshell Report

Little Things

There's bigger things, of course.  Like being able to spend hours every day doing Spring yard work.  A couple months ago I barely had strength enough to get up a flight of stairs.

But sometimes it's the little things.

So many cans have pull-tab lids:  tuna fish, cat food, canned beans.  The seltzer water I drink.  For a while I couldn't open them without sliding a knife into the tab and using it to lever the tab and lid up.   That peculiar thing neuropathy made my fingers both too sore and too numb to pull  up on the tab. Yesterday I realized that I was opening pull-tab cans without needing "help" for the first time in 3 months.

Grandma's Laughing...

...but Mom isn't sure if it's funny or if they should schedule a psych exam.

Three Out Of Four Completed

Surgery - Done
6 rounds of chemo - Done
6 weeks of daily radiation in Winchester - Done
Maintenance chemo (side effect free) every 3 weeks - In progress

Feeling much better than I did a few weeks ago.  The main problem left by the chemo is neuropathy - a weird combination of pain and numbness - in my hands and feet.  And my big toes hurt.

Yeah, that's ugly.  Sorry.  I'll be seeing a podiatrist regularly for a while.

I have a dandy "sunburn" from the radiation.  But it's not like I haven't had a bad sunburn before.  My last treatment was Monday - the itching and tenderness is already abating.   I never did have any other side effect from the treatment.  Compared to chemo, radiation was a breeze.

Despite the weather's best efforts, I walk for 45 minutes to an hour most days.  I need to start working on upper body and hand strength, though:  my forearms are visibly thinner than when this started, and I can barely rack the slide on my Kahr.  Cold wet stuff needs to stop falling out of the sky so I can tackle the yard.  A rake would do me more good than any gym can.

My taste buds are back - I'm eating anything that can't get away from me.  It took a bit after I got back in January to get out of the anemia and get my potassium up to where it should be, but all the numbers are normal now.  I guess as things heal the need for a lot of nutrients will no longer be a good excuse for "I want some of that.  And that. Yummy!  And, oh yes, THAT." 

And I have hair.  Well, sort of.