Day 839

When you take a picture every day you have to pay attention. Pay attention to the things around you. Inside, outside, up in the sky, and down on the ground.

Thanks to looking at the ground, in the gravel, in the parking lot outside the city park, I found today's picture. I also found some little guy's (or girl's) teeny tiny lego pieces just as they left them.

Day 838

I've still been on this "suck out all the marrow of life" kick. While the combination of the rheumatoid arthritis and the lung thing did it to me, Alaska really did it to me. The freedom of the scooter, the ability to go wherever, do whatever. Makes me want to do even more. Go all out.

So perhaps that was what was in my head as we were driving down the freeway the other day when I blurted out to hubby. I think I should get a tattoo next, I say.

Neither one of us have ever had a tattoo, never even thought of getting one. But at that exact moment hubby thought it was a great idea and even knew what it should say:

Live deep and suck out all the marrow of life.

Yea. I think that's good. So when I shared with my daughter where I wanted it - somewhere where it could be seen, yet hidden - she nixed it. Too much, mom. It'll hurt there and that's not a good place for all those words. Where did I want it? Only where someone who is on the edge of busting through the marrow -someone who is teetering on the edge of wild - would think.

All over the fingers. Too bad permanent marker rubs off. Guess I gotta rethink this one.

Day 837

I relinquished control today.

I sent hubby into Dairy Queen with my cash to buy himself an ice cream cake for Father's Day. I would usually be the one to pick out the cake (or at least influence the choice) but I figured it was time for me to stop that. At least when it comes to the rare ice cream cake purchase.

I shouldn't have been too surprised when chocolate-loving hubby came out with a cake called Chocolate Extreme. It looks a little messy after we left it to soften a bit before cutting into it, but he sure didn't mind.

Day 836

That darn cat. Still picking at her fur just like she was months ago when we took her to the vet. Psychogenic alopecia was the diagnosis.

Guess she's proud of it. Why else would she want to show all of us how pink the skin is on her tummy when there's no fur to hide it?

Day 835

It's the same routine. Head to the infusion lab, feet up, IV in. Sit for a couple hours. Head home, feet up in my recliner. Sit and work on school stuff a bit. Take a nap. Get up feeling groggy and icky. Go back to bed. Wake up the next day not feeling much better. Tired, dizzy, and just overall not too super.

The only thing that might change is the working on school stuff. That would be because kitty thinks if my feet are up in the recliner it's her opportunity to sit in my lap. But if I have something in my lap, like say a laptop? Guess that laptop is just as warm as my lap top.

Day 834

How do you know the chicken fajita special you ordered at Alejandra's is bubbly hot? Look at the bubbles around the edge. Yummy.

Day 833

Poor kitty. She looks nice and comfortable and fat and puffy here.Well, she's not fat and puffy. It's clear that she is tiny and getting much, much older. How do I know this?

Because the first time - ever - I gave her a bath. (I know, I know, neglectful, huh?)

Poor kitty.