Cursed

I've often suspected our sweet little (or big as the case may be, Prada has gained another 10 ounces which evidently isn't healthy) cat has a mouth like a sailor. Now, I'm pretty certain of it. Last week Chris took Prada to the vet for her swollen, ouchy paw. I made it just in time to rush into the vet's office and announce to the waiting room that my husband and cat were there somewhere and I wanted to see them. Um, yeah, that was a little embarrassing. The vet wasn't quite sure why the paw was swollen; it could be because of a trauma and subsequent infection or from some crazy kitty immune problem. The vet gave Prada an anti-inflammatory shot. It worked for a bit, but by Wednesday of this week it was a little swollen again and Prada wouldn't put weight on it. After much discussion with the vet's office mainly involving me saying no, I'm not taking the cat back, just give me the damn antibiotics for her, I was able to get some medicine and strict instructions to soak the paw in warm water twice a day.

So now between holding her down and plunging her paw in water and holding her down and prying open her jaw to get the medicine down her throat, the cat has made sounds I can only imagine are nasty bad words. And who knew that the same yucky pink medicine given to children with ear infections is given to cats with bad paws. Remembering plenty of incidents where I was held down and my jaw pried open to get Amoxicillin down my throat, I gagged at the sight and smell of the bubble gum flavored yuck. I guess not wanting to take medicine runs in families and evidently so does cussing a blue streak.

Back at Home

I survived my work trip to Miami. Do you remember how I said I could do the Seattle vibe? Well, yeah, not so much the Miami vibe. To be fair, I was staying in downtown Miami without a car. Still, not impressed and found the city to be a dirty, hard-to-get-around, unsafe feeling, concrete jungle.

An interesting part of my job is that I occasionally attend conferences for groups that I would otherwise not have contact. I've attending meetings for an investors club in Atlanta, health departments in San Antonio and Air Force officers in DC. This time around I was crashing the party of gay choruses. Not only am I straight, I also can't warble a single correct note. However, these were some of the nicest people I've met (and what a flair for style) and they made the trip worth it.

All of the groups I work with (and there really is a group for everything) often make me think that I'm not passionate enough about one single topic to join a group and travel to a meeting. I tend to think some of these people are just too into their thing, but I also admire their dedication. I don't think I'll ever attend BlogHer or a national yoga conference, but in my own way I'm just as dedicated to these hobbies of mine.

Since I'm leaving on a jet plane on Friday for an unexpected work trip, I wasn't too surprised when Prada came up showing some type of symptom of ailing cat. Before the honeymoon she came down with a nasty case of feline acne. Not to mention the huge bald spot she over groomed onto her back.

It seems the cat knows when I'm leaving and then deems it the appropriate time to have a kitty medical emergency. This time she is having some trouble with her left paw. She is limping around and doesn't like to put weight on her paw. She looks pretty sad and pathetic holding her little paw in the air. I can't get a good look at the paw pad, but it does look like there is some type of scratch that might be infected. The whole foot looks swollen.

I feel bad because our house has been a wreck lately and I'm afraid she might have stepped on some splinter of tile, a nail or other renovation debris. Plus, I'll be gone for several days and Chris will be on vet duty. So the guilt is wracking up for me as I begin to pack.

Crazy Old Coot

My brother T said it was a good thing I got married because I was starting to show the makings of a Crazy Cat Lady. To begin with, I don't know why it is out of line to ask if the cat can come to holiday meals. She is part of the family. Besides, what would the Simpsons be without the Crazy Cat Lady? For that matter, what would holiday meals be without impressions of the Crazy Cat Lady on the Simpsons?

So if I have narrowly escaped being the Crazy Cat Lady, I think I might have stumbled into even worse territory this weekend. After the torrential downpours ceased, I went to the garden on Saturday to assess the situation of what looked like drowned tomato leaves. What I found instead was a red aphid infestation. So naturally, I stood in the hot sun getting bit by mosquitoes for two hours spraying the tomato plants with a spray bottle of dish washing soap and water. I was wearing gardening shoes and a sun hat, because when you're a Crazy Old Coot, that's just what you do.

Back to the Weekend Routine

We haven't picked up the tiles from the store yet, so we could spend the morning in our usual summer Saturday way - walking to the Clintonville Farmer's Market. I still haven't visited the other markets around town this summer, but the proximity and quality of the Clintonville market doesn't give me any reason to try out the others. Plus, the Clintonville market has added some new booths this year, giving us new products to try out.

We got there there late this morning and it is still slightly early in the season for most vegetables, but we were able to pick up a few staples. The egg lady (Silo?) provided us with some darling and tasty little Buckeye eggs. She said the chickens were a heritage breed she rescued from a farmer who wasn't allowing them access to pasture so they weren't laying well for him. They're now laying lots of small eggs for her, but some are too small for Whole Foods to buy, so she was selling the leftovers for a good price today at market.

The new booths this year are dairy related. Earlier this year, I flirted with the idea of going dairy free for a 14 days to see what, if any, symptoms were alleviated. I couldn't kick the cheese habit and never made it more than a day or two without dairy. I'm sure glad I'm not trying to do the dairy free thing now, because fresh, local dairy is delicious. We picked up some whole milk (pasteurized, but not homogenized) from Snowville Creamery. The whole milk made for a nice addition to coffee and I can't wait to try making ice cream with the rest of the half gallon. We also bought some grilling cheese from Blue Jacket Dairy. It's a specially processed cheese where you can grill it and it doesn't melt, but gets a delicious salty, crunchy coating on it.

Since our tomatoes aren't ripe yet, we also bought a pound (really just two tomatoes) and then called it a day at the market. Trips to the Farmer's Market are one of my favorite things about summer weekends.

Long Weekend

If you've been paying attention, then you know a long weekend signifies Amy and Chris are tackling a project that is probably too advanced for them and won't be completed for another nine months. This edition: travertine tile back splash with lovely stainless steel accents. Really, it is going to be gorgeous and will really offset our new granite counter tops. Just don't expect the reveal anytime soon.

If we don't show up for your 4th of July cookout, please send a search party because there is a specialized saw involved in this project and I have my doubts.

And for our yearly dose of discussions of the Independence Day holiday, read this article and think about what being patriotic means to you. Enjoy!

Just to Prove...

...that I can get a haircut and not bawl my eyes out. And we're not just talking trim either, this is a full-fledged new hairstyle. I don't think I've sported bangs since the days of the kindergarten through second grade bowl cut. I was hoping this 'do would be a little edgier, but I'm just not sure I can do edgy. Maybe too smiley, but that's better than weeping. What do you think?