Monthly Archives: May 2007
It came out all right
Puzzle got spayed yesterday. Here she is today, rather unhappy to be restricted to “quiet activity only.”
Later, I took the plastic cone thingy off. “Elizabethan collar” is what the vet calls them. It was torture for poor Puzzle not to be able to chew on her favorite toys. Also, every time she tried to curl up in the corner she bumped into the wall.
I am writing a piece on coping skills and mental illness. I’m not sure where the piece is headed but I’ll post bits and pieces of it here, eventually.
Humarock
“Do you want to have coffee in here or out on the porch?”
“Huh?”
“Do you want coff–”
“On the porch.”
“It’s wet, you know.”
“I know.”
My daily meds
These are the pills I take each day. About 1/3 of these I take first thing in the morning. Yesterday I got mixed up (it was early) and I took the morning dose twice. Idiot! I had to call my shrink who told me no, it was no necessary to go to the emergency room, I would feel dizzy and headachey for the day, that’s all. And so I did.
She didn’t tell me about today.
Humarock continued
“You’ll meet my family, someday.”
“Good. I’d like that.”
“My mom, she’s really into decor.”
“What do you mean, decor?”
“You’ll see.”
“The beach house looks like fuckin’ Good Housekeeping.”
“On the third of July, every year, we have fireworks down the beach. Every year. I want you to come this year. Meet my family.”
“Okay.”
“Bring something warm to wear at night. The temperature gets fuckin’ cold by the water.”
“Okay.”
“I’m serious. Fuckin’ cold.”
Humarock photo of the day
“Jules, what are you doing? No, Jules, you don’t need those. It’s–it’s unlocked.”
Humarock photo of the day
Joe was asleep, snoring.
I decided to make coffee.
The temperature was about 40 degrees, typical of Humarock mornings. I slipped out onto the porch to take a photo. When I came back into the house, Joe had woken up. Sort of.
“Jules, can you get me some iced coffee?” Beverage of choice.
“Sure.”
The concoction consisted of ice water with a spoonful of instant decaf coffee. Vile, yes, but that’s what he drank. By the time I came back into the bedroom, he’d fallen back asleep.
Recommended reading
Mark Doty’s DOG YEARS. Warning: it’s a tear-jerker.
Doty’s partner Wally dies of AIDS. This book is about their dogs.
Enough said.
Here’s Tiger in the only outfit she disliked:
Humarock
Just thought I’d share this photo.
I took it in 1998. Joe kept telling me to hurry up. I told him, “Wait just a sec, I’m taking photographs!” and that’s how this one came about.
This Hunger Is Secret 