So much for the drought here in California. It’s been raining or drizzling since I arrived two nights ago, or rather it started some time soon thereafter.
I am finding it hard
to get a proper purchase here on my personal narrative. Or maybe I am just too jet lagged still. I haven't been able to sleep past six a.m. notwithstanding the to-bed time.
Poor Emmylou. After the trauma of a reaction to her shots and the ordeal of a flight, she has already picked up a virus from my mom's cat, Ariel. That's pretty common, but Emmy is so sensitive, she is a veritable sneezing machine. She doesn't take anything easily. She had a reaction to her shots on Tuesday and so was back at the vet for observation and steroids on Wednesday. Thursday she was still limping. I gave her the tranquilizer (bad traveller, unlike Cooder). When I opened up her carrier to look at her, her inner eyelids were frighteningly prevalent. I was terrified, but evidently that is a normal side effect. And she felt well enough to escape her carrier while I was in loo. (Easily caught.)
Now, it has been a week. I talk to you, work on this blog, constantly in my head, but when it comes to writing it down, there is some kind of a disconnect. It's only 9:35 now, but I am ready to drift off into dreamland. Part of it must be the two-buck-Chuck (although it is $2.49 and I often spring for the $4.49 Zinfandel), but I have been getting up before 7:00 a.m. regularly. Ah, how the tides have turned: I am in bed before my night-owl, good-sleeping Mother.
Maybe I am emotionally exhausted. I certainly awake to a good-morning greeting from the dementors, all too ready to comment on my return to the family nest. I generally manage to stagger toward the kitchen and the morning ablutions, turning away from the convenient mental shovel and the large pile of despondency, ever ready to be shifted and sifted through. I do my little job, (this week trying to power through 10 seasons of MI-5 before it leaves Netflix at the beginning of February.)
There is much to do infrastructure and cleaning-wise. I have almost finished reorganizing and settling into what was and will be my room. It is fairly comfortable and if I don't think, I can rather forget where I am and why. But denial is not going to be of much help in solving the problems of my life (should they be soluble at all).
The good news is that intercontinental cat integration was a smashing success. Though the family feared that Max would reign terror on his east coast cousins, he was entirely cool. As it turns out, Max thinks he is god, therefore there is no real reason to be threatened by or to trifle with the lesser beings. He is beneficent and can share his home and his food resources with others. No problem.
Right now, my two are as close to sandwiching me as they ever get. Cooder is curled next to this laptop, and Emmy is curled at my side. This is good. They have had no problem decorating the couch or even my mother's bed, usually the domain of Ariel and Max. I found my mother napping on the couch yesterday; Cooder was sleeping on her bed and my mother was wary of disturbing her.
There is a lot of driving to be done around here. That alone tires me out. Today, we went to the vet (Max is now ill), the grocery store, the vet again, then a remarkably hippie health food store. Then I drove 15 minutes to AN AWESOME (and that is the right word) ASIAN MARKET (it must supply all the local Asian restaurants), then to Jo-Ann fabric store for muslin to get sewing, then to Bed, Bath, and Beyond for a knife sharpener (lots of good knives here, all dull) and then home through rush hour.
Hmmm ... I am prattling along here. I shall stop for now and reassess whether there is anything of merit herein. (Max, at 17 pounds just joined us. A three-cat night.)
It sure is different here. Driving can be distracting, simply because of the extreme change of scenery to these East Coast eyes. I had to do a double take this evening when I saw a sign reading "Taco Business Advice." It actually read TAXCO but I missed that the first two times I looked, struggling to understand what Taco Business Advice could be.
The other things to hurriedly note: already wearing flip-flops. And I had my first strawberry of the year.
 |
| (Ariel and Max.) |
Now, it has been a week. I talk to you, work on this blog, constantly in my head, but when it comes to writing it down, there is some kind of a disconnect. It's only 9:35 now, but I am ready to drift off into dreamland. Part of it must be the two-buck-Chuck (although it is $2.49 and I often spring for the $4.49 Zinfandel), but I have been getting up before 7:00 a.m. regularly. Ah, how the tides have turned: I am in bed before my night-owl, good-sleeping Mother.
Maybe I am emotionally exhausted. I certainly awake to a good-morning greeting from the dementors, all too ready to comment on my return to the family nest. I generally manage to stagger toward the kitchen and the morning ablutions, turning away from the convenient mental shovel and the large pile of despondency, ever ready to be shifted and sifted through. I do my little job, (this week trying to power through 10 seasons of MI-5 before it leaves Netflix at the beginning of February.)
There is much to do infrastructure and cleaning-wise. I have almost finished reorganizing and settling into what was and will be my room. It is fairly comfortable and if I don't think, I can rather forget where I am and why. But denial is not going to be of much help in solving the problems of my life (should they be soluble at all).
The good news is that intercontinental cat integration was a smashing success. Though the family feared that Max would reign terror on his east coast cousins, he was entirely cool. As it turns out, Max thinks he is god, therefore there is no real reason to be threatened by or to trifle with the lesser beings. He is beneficent and can share his home and his food resources with others. No problem.
Right now, my two are as close to sandwiching me as they ever get. Cooder is curled next to this laptop, and Emmy is curled at my side. This is good. They have had no problem decorating the couch or even my mother's bed, usually the domain of Ariel and Max. I found my mother napping on the couch yesterday; Cooder was sleeping on her bed and my mother was wary of disturbing her.
There is a lot of driving to be done around here. That alone tires me out. Today, we went to the vet (Max is now ill), the grocery store, the vet again, then a remarkably hippie health food store. Then I drove 15 minutes to AN AWESOME (and that is the right word) ASIAN MARKET (it must supply all the local Asian restaurants), then to Jo-Ann fabric store for muslin to get sewing, then to Bed, Bath, and Beyond for a knife sharpener (lots of good knives here, all dull) and then home through rush hour.
Hmmm ... I am prattling along here. I shall stop for now and reassess whether there is anything of merit herein. (Max, at 17 pounds just joined us. A three-cat night.)
It sure is different here. Driving can be distracting, simply because of the extreme change of scenery to these East Coast eyes. I had to do a double take this evening when I saw a sign reading "Taco Business Advice." It actually read TAXCO but I missed that the first two times I looked, struggling to understand what Taco Business Advice could be.
The other things to hurriedly note: already wearing flip-flops. And I had my first strawberry of the year.
I like the way the cats immediately infected each other with their diseases. Get it over with at the beginning, I always say.
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