1 June

1. Galloping kitties
2. A kitty meeping at me when I first step out of the bathroom
3. The smell of potatoes roasting in the oven
4. Mockingbirds and robins singing in the morning

Yep, skipped another blog entry yesterday. I awoke in the morning feeling a bit on edge emotionally and all it took was one song from Tori Amos’ first album to push me over into a deep gloom. Thankfully it didn’t last long and the playlist in my head was able to change tracks to something more upbeat. Thank you, Kate Bush and Soundgarden! Anyway, there wasn’t much going on other than more laundry and arranging appointments. I only left the house once to go pick up a prescription at Walgreens. I think I need to get out more, if only to go down to the park and sit by the springs for a while. I did receive a very sweet card from a lady I don’t know very well but we’re friends on FB. I may have to send her a little thank-you in return because that card’s a keeper. Her note mentioned admiration for my bravery in going through all this cancer crap. I don’t know that I’d call it bravery, more like an unpleasant job that needs doing. That’s sort of how I’ve felt throughout this whole process. The worst times are waiting for test results but mostly it’s more about putting my head down and focusing on the task at hand. There’s also very much a surreal element, as though all of this is happening to someone else and I’m just a very close observer. It’s all just extremely weird.

Not much on the docket for today, other then a short hop up to HEB for a few things and then maybe down to the springs. Umm, I’ll probably do that in reverse order though because I don’t want my produce cooking in the car. Eew.

I’ve been pondering lately on my almost pathological dread of written correspondence. Writing a blog is one thing – it’s a bit like an emotional core dump, just allowing thoughts to travel down the fingertips onto the keyboard and then the monitor, but actually sitting down to compose a note or letter, BY HAND, TO ANOTHER PERSON, is another thing entirely. I really enjoy receiving hand-written letters or notes in a card, because I can appreciate that whoever wrote them cared enough to take the time out of their busy lives in order to park themselves in a chair or on the couch with a pen and some paper. My mom did her level best to make sure that I wrote all my thank-you notes to relatives and friends for gifts received, but I think the effort backfired in my case. I now feel an almost physical clench somewhere in my midsection when faced with churning out Christmas cards, snail-mail letters, and basically anything that involves scraping a writing implement across a white surface. That said, I also enjoy shopping for really pretty cards or better yet, making them myself. They may not always be as beautiful as those glorious Papyrus works of art wrapped in cellophane, but they’re more heart-felt. Huh. Pardon my musings! Thinking out loud today.😊

Welp, I didn’t get down to the park like I’d hoped but there’s always tomorrow. If I can get up and moving relatively early, I can get there before the heat becomes too oppressive. It’s a goal, anyway! Then it’s back home to whip up a batch of mint chutney to go with Basil’s very Indian chickpea curry. Poor Rory… the last time Basil made this stuff, they used just about every spice I have in my rather expansive collection. It was just too much for Rory and he could barely eat the stuff. Maybe the chutney will help to temper the spice. It’s one of my favorite Indian condiments and I’m happy that I located a decent recipe.