. . . for the next 18 years or so. :) Yes, for those who haven't heard from FB yet (or aren't on FB), airsucker and I will be having a little one joining us in late October/early November. So far everything has been going well, as if the universe is responding favorably to my oft-repeated mantra of "We have a health, happy baby." Ultrasound and amnio both show all indicators are normal and healthy. We're pretty excited and a little scared, but mostly just looking forward meeting this new little person.
I know it's been a long time since I posted here, but I do want something of a more permanent record on this.
Many of you who know me in the physical world know that I have a cat named Moe. He's an old, sometimes-cranky, sleek tomcat with jowls from here to Thursday and oddly-penetrating light green eyes. He's an American Short-hair, tabby patterned with a mix of black, gray and brown stripes and a white belly. He's caused the occasional wounds and drama, but mostly was a warm, purring lump in my lap. And that's where he died about an hour ago, after sharing my life for almost 18 years.
I remember when I got him, back in Marquette, when I was working at the Big Boy there. One of the cooks had just got a 6-month-old kitten for his kids, then they had to move to a no-pets building. After talking it over with my then-girlfriend (now-wife), I agreed to take him in. I sat with him in my Colt Vista for over an hour after he was handed over, just letting him get used to my presence and touch, then took him home to get him settled in. Against popular wisdom, I never had him neutered, and apart from occasional marking he didn't seem the worse for it.
In recent years all he's wanted is a warm bed and a lap whenever I'm home. In the last few weeks he's had trouble keeping food down, and stopped eating over the weekend. He stopped drinking this morning, and he lay with his eyes open for hours in the sun before the last. I'm very grateful he held on until I was home from work.
I wasn't prepared for how deeply his passing is hitting me. He's been a constant part of all we've done for nearly 18 years. Now he'll be a warm and welcome corner of my memories.
Goodbye, Moe. You're a good cat, and always have been.
No content as such, but I just looked back and noticed my last post was in December. I'm still here, <lj user=airsucker> and I are well and progress is progressing. More to follow soon as I hash out what's to be said.
Living out in Dexter now we've been exploring a little and looking for new and interesting places to visit. One of the first we spotted on a trip to the grocery store was Food Zone Chinese Restaurant. Our quick conclusion on the odd name was, "It will either be really good, or really bad, no in between." Not being big on eating out at restaurants, it's become a little bit of a joke.
Today we finally went.
My folks came out for a post-birthday visit and asked if we wanted to go out to eat, and if there was anywhere we wanted to try. We were off to Food Zone in a few minutes.
This is a smallish strip-mall-style storefront restaurant, but the specials taped to the door all sounded delicious. Inside it was neat and well-kept, with a brisk carryout business going (good sign) and one other couple eating there. The waitress was nice and attentive, and the food was quite excellent in the way of good Chinese carryout, served in large portions as usual. The decor is understated, with the exception of the fiber-optic landscape painting on one wall, and mirrors line the other wall to give the illusion of a larger space. In all, it was a good experience and I will definitely go back.
In honor of my dear friend custardfairy and her poetry night tonight (which we will, sadly, not be attending), I present a poem I not only know by heart, but also learned to recite in a "Standard British" dialect back in college. (I'm sure Jo will dispute the existence of a "standard" dialect for all Britain, and I agree with him. It's the formal dialect newscasters attempt to emulate to relate to the most people.) It's been appropriate to many occasions in my life and I often find a moment's comfort in a line or two when such a situation arises.
As an unperfect actor on the stage Who with his fear is put besides his part, Or some fierce thing replete with too much rage, Whose strength's abundance weakens his own heart. So I, for fear of trust, forget to say The perfect ceremony of love's rite, And in mine own love's strength seem to decay, O'ercharged with burden of mine own love's might. O, let my books be then the eloquence And dumb presagers of my speaking breast, Who plead for love and look for recompense More than that tongue that more hath more express'd. O, learn to read what silent love hath writ: To hear with eyes belongs to love's fine wit.
airsucker and I will be having a little one joining us in late October/early November. So far everything has been going well, as if the universe is responding favorably to my oft-repeated mantra of "We have a health, happy baby." Ultrasound and amnio both show all indicators are normal and healthy. We're pretty excited and a little scared, but mostly just looking forward meeting this new little person.
excited
contemplative![[info]](https://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small}