Dear Diary . . . day by day

Monday, June 5th - Goodbye, Gray Lady
I had a nice enough weekend. It started out kinda shitty, as the baseball game that David and I had been planning on going to for the past month was vetoed by David because we couldn't get "good enough seats". Grrr. I was really looking forward to going to a ballgame at the ballpark this weekend, and instead I was watching the Pacer's/Knicks game in David's apartment. That's ok; at least the good guys (Pacers) won. Surprisingly enough, David and I had a nice time Friday night; I think we don't like fighting in person anymore; or maybe it was the fact that we just sat and read in each other's presence for a good part of the evening; low stress.
Saturday I spent desperately looking for a recipe that did not contain bell peppers, onions, garlic or sugar so I could cook for Ian and Elle that evening. I finally made a dish made up of ginger, tomatoes and garbanzo beans. Garlic and onions can make a baby collicky (through breast milk) and Elle is allergic to bell peppers. The sugar is just because they're healthy folk.
It was a pleasant time at Ian and Elle's new house (tentatively named "left field" as the back yard backs onto that part of a baseball diamond). Dan and Judy were there, but left soon after I arrived. Sherm was there the whole time, and he was adorable - gurgling like the baby over the joy of holding him. Sherm spent a lot of time with Leo attached to him in the sling; I suspect Sherm will someday make a superb daddy himself.
David showed up after a bit to get his gander in at the new little wonder. The rest of us ate and chatted and had a nice time hanging out. We spent the last part of the evening talking about home decoration, which everyone enjoyed except David, who took it as his cue to leave.
Sunday started with a phone call from Jeff inquiring as to whether I'd like to join him for brunch. Sure! So, an hour later I was walking with Jeff to Mama's, where we waited far too long for a table and even longer for our food. But we had a good time talking anyway. I'm always in a terrific mood after hanging out with Jeff; I've mentioned that "possible" feeling before, I'm sure. I never seem to use that creative excitement I get, but I figure it's still a good thing.
That put me in an excellent mood for gardening with David, which went splendidly. I put in some new peruvian lilies and a, um, Gorum? I keep forgetting that plant's name. We had new tomatoes (little green ones) on the Mountain Gold last Thursday, and yesterday notice tiny ones on the Early Girl as well. Yippee! David weeded and pinched stuff back in the veggies while I fusted with the sweetpeas and flower beds. We picked some greenbeans and a few snowpeas and I pulled two radishes up. It was a good, quiet time.
David and I spent the rest of the afternoon just haning out, and it was so nice! We put up my new spice rack, I brushed down my impressive cobweb collection (welcoming the spiders to rebuild instead of retrofitting) and such. I won a game of rummy. We were nice to each other without trying. We ate leftover Vietamese food and watched the Simpsons, and David went home on a good note that hadn't wavered. What a blessing Sunday was!
Today hasn't been as grand. Holly called me this morning in tears because she'd let our old cat, Gray Lady, out and some big old dogs got her. She was crying something fierce; it was horrible to hear my sissy so traumatized! I soothed her by reminding her that everyday she and mom had had to evaluate Gray's quality of life and decide whether or not to put her asleep. I said she'd probably died before they got her. I said even if she was alive when they got her, it was probably much less painful than had she simply faded away (they'd pierced her heart immediately, from what I understand). I told her Gray died with the knowledge that Holly loved her enough to run out after those horrible dogs (who were, honestly, just being dogs) screaming and kicking them with no regard for her own safety. I said, "it's ok, sissy, it's ok" over and over again, until I got her to believe it or pretend to and our conversation drifted elsewhere.
Gray was a good cat - well over 20 years old and the last cat left alive from my childhood. I'm truly sorry she had to go in such a dramatic, gorey fashion, but I know she's no longer in pain. That's something, now.
Exercise log:
Took a walk on Friday, gardened on Sunday, pulled down cobwebs, put up a spice rack.
I'm currently reading:
Second Foundation by Issac Asimov

Previous | Next
List of Entries for this Month | Journal Index | Current Entry
Home