"It is December, and nobody asked if I was ready."
See, I told you, Dylan has horns on his head! LOL. I know, they aren't really horns, they are just his ears positioned back, making it look like he has horns, but you have to believe me, and you would have to know Dylan... trust me... they are horns. It's okay, he is my little spitfire. He sings the Dilly Song, a tune he wrote himself, that tells the entire world just how unfair life, and everything else is, and then he feels better. Kind of like his version of a blog. A simple little outlet for his complaints, or if you celebrate Festivus, a grievance song, and he can get pretty upset while he complains, but a belly rub, and a game of soccer with his favorite plastic bell balls, and his bad mood goes away. He has been downright cuddly since the weather turned. He likes the new house, and all the room he has now, so last night's airing of grievances wasn't long. He has a lot less to complain about now! It's amazing how good this move has turned out to be for all of us, but especially my little Dillybean!
"THERE is something in the autumn that is native to my blood. Touch of manner, hint of mood; And my heart is like rhyme, with yellow and the purple and the crimson keeping time."
Autumn quietly lies down at 11:48 P.M. EST. tonight. It's a stormy sky where I am. Winter is insisting and full of itself this year. It's good for the ground, and the rivers and yes, it's good for the treas, but the raindrops fall like tears, and least that's how it feels to me,
"Never miss an opportunity to see anything that is beautiful."
I didn't post yesterday, but it's okay, right? I was busy. Busy wrapping presents, baking 6 dozen cookies, paying the bills that get paid in the middle of the month, doing laundry, photographing more leaves, searching recipes for Baked Ham, bringing in all the late packages ordered from Amazon.com and Groupon, 15 at last count, tracking down a new noise in the house I never heard before and de-worming the cat. Hendrix to be exact. Yes, he has worms... again!
This time, because I can't face putting him through the stress of putting him in a kennel and driving him 90 miles to see Dr. B., we are trying the tablets that kill worms. It takes about a week to work, but from what I have read it does the job. If it doesn't work, I will slip my kitty some Valium, and myself as well, and we will drive down to the Bay Area to the best doctor ever! Or will I?
That's the debate between Alan and I. He wants to find someone closer, for Hendrix's sake. He doesn't want to put him through the long drive and the stress of the car and all the scary sounds. I want to make sure my kitty gets the best care possible, and that means Dr. B. . The problem is, my argument that Hendrix will be okay once he is home again, isn't a terribly strong one. I know Alan is right, but it doesn't make either of us very happy.
Losing Dr. B, is probably the worst part of what happened.
I guess I should find the boys a doctor up here, if for nothing else, emergencies, but it's difficult to trust anyone other than Dr. B., he is amazing, but I have to do whats right for the boys. Right? But what is that exactly? It's less stress for them to have a doctor here in town, but what if I can't find one who will be as good as their current one? Taking them on the 90 mile drive will terrify them, but I will have piece of mind that they are getting the best care possible. Either way, I hope these pills do the trick, I don't want my boys to be uncomfortable. I love them. They are my children. And as I sit here I guess I know what I have to do. I have to find them a doctor up here.
It's All Just Stupid.
And what is my lesson for the last full day of autumn?
Sometimes everything does, all in a single action.
I think I will concentrate on that plate of cookies,