And suddenly! It's Tuesday

[rolanni]

What went before: Finished correcting the first 40 pages of Civilized Behavior; only 100 more pages left to go.

Everybody stay safe; I'll see you tomorrow.

Tuesday. Sporadically sunny. Warm. Said to be heading for warmer, still, though not hot. Trash and recycling at the curb.

Trooper has had two -- three! -- tries at breakfast. The third try -- after he had rejected the contents of the bowl I was carrying back to the kitchen and he stopped in front of me, made eye contact, and screamed -- I put the bowl down in front of him. He stared at it. Rook and Tali came to see what Grandpa was getting that was Special, and he had a couple...eight? licks to kinda spite them, then turned away. Also, that pound I was so pleased he'd gained, all the way back on August 27? He's lost it with interest, according to today's weigh-in.

Yeah, contacting the vet is on my list, right after I have a cup of tea on the deck and sort out my thoughts and feelings. I'm remembering talking with Steve, after we let Belle go, and he said, "Y'know? I think Belle was sicker than we knew."

My breakfast consisted of an oatmeal-raisin-walnut cookie. Probably I should do something a bit more, in a while.

I intend to work on the chapbook today. Needlework group is this evening. And I think that's all I've got.

How's everybody doing today?

Later that same morning: Sigh. The New England Donor Services, with which organization I have not found myself in charity with since it first brought itself to my attention by calling me at midnight of the day Steve died, to ask me a bunch of intrusive questions and persuade me to donate usable parts to the Greater Good. . .

The New England Donor Services, I say, not only saw fit to send me a medal in Steve's name (for, yes, after getting up, very calmly in what I now know to have been an Altered State, I looked them up, saw they were legit, thought of what Steve, the author of "Charioteer," might actually want, and called them back to give permission), for being a "hero" for giving the Gift of Life -- and also saw fit to send me a thin volume of tips for survivors, in which such burning questions as "Am I still allowed to wear my wedding ring?" were addressed, and which still from time to time, despite my stated preferences, takes it upon itself to contact me --

Has contacted me again.

They're having a walk -- to repeal death, I guess? No, wait. They need death. Well. -- and they're making a Day of the Dead quilt, and I'm offered the opportunity to "share my loved one's 'donation story'".

I'm pretty sure I've previously asked New England Donor Services to never speak to me again, and, yes, I've asked them again, just now.

But I really did not need them in my mailbox today.

Here, have a picture of Tali inna bookcase.  That'll make us all feel better: