After the basement bathroom flloor...

That's where I've been hanging out since this afternoon.

Gilbert the cat found some more watch parts. He ate them. That's his bad habit: Eat everything.

I was in Pasadena when he began to show signs of being seriously ill.

Thus begins the gratitude journal:

I am extremely grateful to my Mom and to my daughter, who acted as point person with the emergency vets while I was down in Pasadena. (The cell phone got a workout.)

I'm also grateful to the emergency vet people. They don't like my cat, because when he's there, he's very unlikeable. Scary, even. But as soon as he gets home, he returns to the "I love you, cuddle with me now" side of his personality.

And that's where I've been--cuddling with Gilbert the cat, who will spend the next two weeks mostly living inside a renovated (especially for him) shower stall, so that he doesn't jump around.

Then, I might have to take the stitches out myself, because he's such a freak at the vet's.

But he's okay, and my daughter and mom are okay.

Yes, I'm grateful.

Tree-tastrophe

I was standing at the fish counter in the supermarket when my phone rang.

My daughter told me that the cat had knocked over the Christmas tree, and even though she put it back up, it was leaning, so she was holding it. Could I hurry?

I took my parcel of shrimp, paid up, and walked very quickly home. We reset the tree stand (loosening, straightening, tightening), mopped up the water, picked up the big broken bits, vacuumed up the smaller ones, and Tom has since embarked on experiments for closing that part of the house off.

We'll see whether that works.