Waiting

My pots always look the prettiest about a month after I plant them--the flowers have started to grow and bloom, but they're not raggedy or snail-chewed yet.  I love my yard in spring.

This is the tall wall in my entryway (one corner of my living room--you can see down the hall in this shot).  I've had a few things hanging there during the decade since we built it but aside from one mirror or another, nothing I sincerely loved looking at from the couches across the room.  Here's what's up there, clockwise from my old clock (har!): two framed pieces of pink coral or seaweed or some weird fungus, found at Goodwill. I'm debating painting the frames yellow or gray.  Next is a painting (by Lillian) of bubbles rising in deep water; a page from an old medical reference book (larger, below); an old photo of my mother Ruth and her sister Julianna skating at their home in Yosemite as young girls (larger, below); a calendar page by a local artist; my favorite dancing skeleton; an old print of California poppies; a painting (by Lillian) made from an anonymous vintage slide (I like to think it represents either my mother and aunt, or else me and my best friend Dr L); and a Goodwill mirror which is just a placeholder for some African safari photos which will eventually appear here (and there) when we finally get them printed.  The mirror in the center is from Ross--my mother-in-law's lovely antique one shifted to Lillian's room.

Here's the anatomical drawing I cut out of an old medical encyclopedia given to me by a doctor I once worked for.  There are so many cool images, it was hard to pick my favorite.  I love how graceful this one is; I imagine a serene woman gazing out her window at the horizon.  What did she think about all those decades, closed up in a book?

  

This is a tighter view of Mom and her sister, about 1932. Mom had polio as a little girl and had to learn to walk again; so it is neat to see her skating.  My great-grandfather went to work for the National Parks after WWI and the Topp family lived for a few years in Yosemite.  I love this picture. 

Here's another one I put together from a painted oak Goodwill frame.  It's headed for Lillian's room.  This page shows a "roentgenogram" (an X-ray for you twenty-first century types) of a hand overlaid with the American Sign Language symbol for love.  It's atypically the left hand because Lillian is a lefty (she signs.)  I borrowed the idea from this blog, but I had been tossing around the notion for a while.  I have a few other pages bookmarked to frame, too.

This one is in Lillian's room. For forty years I've saved this little scrap of kitty print wrapping paper from  Cost Plus, but it's old frame kept falling apart.  I stuck it in a free frame Sam found.  I stained the frame and spray painted the old mat white.    

Carson had to spend some time sitting in the naughty corner
because he tried too hard to help me and broke something.  Again.

We went out to dinner recently to celebrate Lillian's boyfriend's promotion and I wanted to prove that I do occasionally paint my face and wear street clothes like a productive member of society.  It's rare these days, but I can do it.

And this is why this post is titled "Waiting."  Poor old Chase, who one week ago had a very debilitating stroke, is still alive.  We seriously believed he would die within hours, or maybe days, but he hasn't succumbed yet.  After much soul-searching we elected to feed and water him with a syringe because he can't eat, but he can stretch, purr, and lift his head just a bit. We laid Chase in the warm sun coming in the window this morning.  Lottie seems to know he is not normal and won't lick or cuddle with him.  Dr L said that some cats surprisingly recover from strokes, even ones who are at death's door as he was, and by nourishing him we buy some time to see if he may do just that.  The real heartache is, of course, that if time passes and he never regains use of his body, we're again faced with the difficult decision to put him down. And we will do it.  There is a grave ready outside, but filling it back in felt like a jinx.    On top of all this,  it's been an gruesome week nationally, with the unbelievable Boston marathon bombings and subsequent death of one and capture of the other killer, and the terrible fertilizer plant explosion in Texas.  I admit I wish Chase had passed peacefully away last weekend so I didn't have to make the decision, but here we are.  

Also today we went to the farmers market and bought snap peas, artichoke and sun dried tomato dip, and heavenly fried samosas. At about forty carbs for each golden morsel --I only get fifty per day on this damn carb-restricting eating plan--  I only ate one, but it was the best thing I ever tasted in my life.  (The sugar is for tea; we stopped at the flour mill. This will last a long time.)

All things considered, I hope your weekend is shaping up to be a nice one.