Real Life

Inspirational song: Kiss the Girl (The Little Mermaid)

Oh, right, this is what it feels like to have a full, packed day, and to make it through to the other side still feeling sorta okay. It's lovely. I hope to have more days like this.

I probably could have made my North Denver doctor appointment into a telemed visit, but the phone calls just didn't line up right. It's all for the best. I really enjoy the company of my rheumatologist, and being able to read her body language and the subtleties of her face in real time helps me communicate better. Telemed stresses me. I think we got a lot accomplished at our quarterly visit. Trying something new, to address the fibromyalgia, which might end up being super necessary. I have lost faith in the mail order pharmacy, both because of the wanton and deliberate destruction of the post office, and the fact that they screwed me over with no notice on my lupus meds. Thanks to a certain snake oil salesman, I'm still going to have trouble sourcing them through the local pharmacy, but at least they respect me enough to give me a phone call and keep me informed on progress.

We watched the baby today. We watched her fuss, and eat, and poop, and laugh, and sleep, and repeat in rapid succession. She didn't get nearly enough sleep, and wow, that baby is a champion pooper. I am pretty sure every cat in that house sat on or near me at least once while I was there.

I had to leave early to meet up with the home inspector for this current deal. Neither of my clients could get away to deliver the check to pay him, and I volunteered to do it. I mostly wanted another chance to be in the townhouse. I absolutely love the space. It feels very good. Also, I met a new inspector today, just a few weeks after the boss put out a call for us to update our trusted tradespersons list at the brokerage. I will definitely be adding this fellow to the list. I think he did great work and communicated everything clearly.

And I even got to go back after and play with the baby a little more after. This is the life.

In and Out

Inspirational song: Politicians (Hoyt Axton)

I feel like I'm running into a room, slightly out of breath, gesturing with my hands as I say, "Okay, I gotta make this quick. I'm running way late and I have a ton of things to get to." We had our smaller game night tonight, and I have come to understand I missed a heck of a night of barn-burner speeches. I recorded it, and I need to get watching before it gets too late, so I have an idea of why everyone on Twitter are absolutely gushing, up to and including a comedian I adore putting up a photo of herself dissolving in emotional tears.

We still have one member of our group playing remotely (two in the bigger one), so we still have the laptop hooked up to the TV. Apparently the guys plugged in a new extra-long hdmi cable, so the game leader can actually sit comfortably and have all their tools spread out. I sat on the couch side, disturbed by what I was seeing. Finally I asked, "Why is the TV crooked?" The Mr said, in total seriousness, that it wasn't. I took a picture to document the very not-straight television. I'll tell myself this wasn't gaslighting.

Okay, I have very little else before I go watch speeches. I was amused by the way my cats have been draping themselves over furniture lately, from Harvey looking bored while we played, to Athena loving when I leave the new bed in its upright position. This is a superior perch for her floofy beauty.

Dog Days

Inspirational song: Who Let the Dogs Out (Baha Men)

As the months roll by and Zoom meetings become more routine and less like a strange invasion to our home spaces, I am noticing people are getting more casual about the normal rhythms of their houses. Meetings seem like we have just dropped by for lemonade and gossip, and when the baby comes in and starts to climb on guests, we just open our arms and keep the conversation going. The relaxed nature goes from bottom to top. We have come a long way since we were scandalized by the one expert interviewed on CNN whose kids burst in his office room, one little girl marching in with her chest puffed out, and a baby in a walker behind. That guy, and his wife who tried to pull the kids off camera, was mortified, and was a viral sensation. Now the teevee people don't give it a second thought. Stephen Colbert has opened how many shows joking with his wife off camera? Jimmy Fallon gave his wife and little kids tons of air time. Even now-official nominee Biden crashed the end of Dr Biden's convention speech tonight, to give her a hug and to wave at the camera. And today on our Rotary Zoom, our presenter (a restauranteur who transformed her business into an admirable non-profit feeding hungry people in Milwaukee) had to wave off interruptions multiple times during her program.

And then there are the dogs. All the dogs! I can tell you cable pundit John Heilman has two gorgeous great danes. Some guest on a tv show this afternoon had her dog barking in the background, and all three people on screen just smiled at it. Bringing it back to the local experience, as we all started popping in to start the Rotary meeting, five or six dogs were introduced to the group. I live for this content. 

I do wish our house was a little more dog-friendly for the pups we have. Poor Elsa is feeling every hour of her thirteen and a half years. She sleeps almost all day, and her hearing is nearly gone. She stays on the back stair just beyond the sliding door, and doesn't seem interested in engaging much outside of mealtime. She is getting a bit senile, and often she sees a open garage door or poorly latched gate, and she just wanders. Sometimes the neighbors find her, sometimes the City. (The City is less forgiving than neighbors.) Murray doesn't get to come inside often, because he has to be carried and then convinced to stay on a washable bed. He is the king of the yard, and tells everyone in the alley about it. If we are still meeting entirely by Zoom in October when the new puppy arrives, I expect I will never be off mute during meetings again. But you know I will find a spot in this house with no fancy imported rugs, so I can sit near her and show her off to everyone who Zooms with me. (For the record, I think the photo I have stolen from the Twitter feed of the ranch is actually her. Might be her brother who looks like her. I choose to believe it is my pup.)

Catch Up

Inspirational song: You Better You Bet (The Who)

It should not be surprising to me how little routine maintenance gets done when the grandbaby is here. There's a reason the kids ask me to come over once in a while to hold the baby while they clean house. She takes all the attention available, convincing us that she must be touching a human at all times. So nothing but Baby is allowed to occur in her presence. I've had to play catch-up ever since she went home yesterday, and I just now, at bedtime, feel like I'm getting back up to speed.

With the baby in arms, I couldn't even do computer work to build the file and calendar for the new contract. I can't begin to picture how offended she would be while I downloaded all the disclosures and sent them up to the HQ, paying closer attention to a laptop than a baby face. All that is done now, as is another big jump forward in house cleaning. I can pretend this feeling of being on top of it, and the relaxed attitude that brings, will last, but it won't. Baby will be back mid-week, and the cycle will start all over again.

I've pulled up the tiny little cradle, in favor of the play mat the kids brought over. I figure in another three months, we will swap for a playpen, in the same spot. Dino is growing quickly (although exactly on schedule). The cats adapted quickly from assuming the cradle was for them, to taking turns on the play mat. Jackie gave me a smug look when she took it over this morning, and in my head I could hear that movie with the Somali pirate threatening Tom Hanks as the boat captain. She looked me right in the eye as if to say, "Look at me. I am Baby now." If there is a playpen by autumn, will they sleep in that too?

Falling

Inspirational song: Lost Generation (Rizzle Kicks)

At the end of a solo babysitting weekend, I am a total zombie. I can barely raise my arms. I can't think clearly. By late afternoon, the grandbaby was getting upset with me for being so tired that I had a neutral-bordering-on-RBF expression on my face, instead of mirroring her silly smiles. I didn't mean to scare her, but smiling was starting to use up too many spoons.

I'm sure part of my fatigue is my own fault. I haven't been getting every single medication I'm supposed to, although I am getting more than half. I tried to refill my lupus meds last week, and thanks to the dangerous hijinks in Washington, I'm still having trouble with the main one. And what with this nonsense of intentionally crippling the post office, I can't count on getting them quickly enough from the mail order pharmacy. I see the rheumatologist Thursday, and I'm going to ask to go back to the local pharmacy for six months or so, and just hope that they can get their hands on hydroxychloroquine for me. Otherwise, it may be time to see whether any of the scarier, stronger lupus drugs are available to me, as they are not currently being pushed by a snake oil salesman.

I've decided it is so stressful living through 2020, that staying on the ultra restrictive levels of that diet is unwise. I'm not going back to indiscriminate eating, but rather transitioning to a more average keto plan. I have given myself back dairy, and I expect to cave in on coffee any day now. I'll revisit the Hashimoto's plan after New Year's, maybe. I had butter on part of my dinner, and I'm still sitting here feeling like bits of my world are finally falling back into place.

Conversational

Inspirational song: With Arms Wide Open (Creed)

That little baby is really packing in the charm these days. She is miles away from having words, but she makes the best little noises. Today was my baby sitting day, and we had hours to chat and exchange smiles. She loves to pretend she is standing, even though she can't do it under her own power. She stomps her feet, and she especially likes doing that when music is playing. She must be going into another growth spurt. She ate non-stop. And she wore me out, by the time her mommy came to pick her up. I didn't have grandpa to tag-team with me. He's off on another one of those wacky-car rallies. Team Killer Rabbit is at it again. He has been sending me spectacular photos of a large first fire in the mountains near the rally site. It is a terrible sort of beauty. But nothing compares to that beauty who spent the day with me.

Coming Attractions

Inspirational song: The Government Totally Sucks (Tenacious D)

Y'all.

I have been keeping a secret a full week, and it has been killing me. But now that I have told all the stakeholders, and insiders who should hear this first, I am ready to let the cat out of the bag. Or dog, really.

More than two years have passed since Bump died, and after a proper mourning period, I started thinking about who the next dog might be. I have been dog mad for ages, and trying so hard to wait until there was another opening here. It has been over a year since Rabbit died, and I think between Rab and Bump, there is a large hole in my heart, and it's ready to be filled. And conveniently, my daughter showed me pictures of large puppies who needed homes. I asked to see a girl puppy who would be available for adoption, and they sent me a face I fell in love with instantly. She was still just a bean in the initial picture, and in a week, she has grown so much. I haven't experienced a moment of doubt that she is my girl.

The pups won't be ready to leave their mama for two months yet. So mine will be coming home to me on my birthday. After being miffed at me for a solid day for making the decision to move forward without his input, the Mr is mellowing enough to have put me in touch with one of his old military buddies who is a professional dog trainer. And this is a very good thing, because this dog isn't going to be just a pet. I have come to understand that eventually my autoimmune conditions will progress to the point where a service dog will be a huge help. Since I don't have tens of thousands of dollars to drop on an already-trained service dog, I have to grow one myself. It makes sense to me to start now, while I still have some ability to do so. It won't be cheap, but it will cost a lot less to do it this way. Plus, I need to bring her in while she is a baby, so the cats consider her less of a threat. Athena can be a jerk, to say the least.

The pup is coming from the Tenacious Unicorn Ranch, in Southern Colorado. I spend a lot of time watching their Twitter feed for new photos and videos of the big pile of puppies. They are giant white fluff balls, with varying degrees of black and gray accents. Mine is one of two with the most speckled gray on their heads and front legs, and black ears. She has an all white butt, while her matching brother has a black ring at the base of his tail. While shopping for cat food tonight, I found the perfect collar for her, to honor the place of her birth. It's pale blue with rainbows and unicorns on it. Perfection!

But while I wait, I just play with the little girl who will grow up hand-in-paw with the new puppy. She was a rock star when they dropped by tonight.