All Good Things....

All Good Things must come to an end, and mine comes to an abrupt halt on Friday. One more day of pure bliss and relaxation before I head back to work after nearly a month's hiatus. It has been wonderful.

During my break, I said hello to friends I hadn't seen in forever while also saying goodbye to an old friend. I spent time with family and got my house in the best shape it has been in since probably before I moved in. (Oh, there was also plenty of time for blogging and bejeweled too.)

Though it was relaxing and fun, I kept busy reconnecting with the now colorful hiking trails with friends and pups. That is something that I neglected for quite some time before my vacation. The impact that connecting with nature has on my sanity has never been more apparent, and it is something I must remember when cross country skiing season approaches. The past few years I have found myself skiing less and less.

For the first time in several years, I did not get the "August Blahs". Perhaps it was because I was in Vegas and anticipating a second stay-cation just weeks later. For years, when August presents itself, my mood plummets. Last year the "blah-ness" was better than in years past, but this year I can say it was totally absent (minus the acceptable sads for the loss of Punky).

This month has been my mental health month which I desperately needed, in part for some unexpected losses, but mostly just to rejuvenate and reenergize. It felt good. I feel good. And I think I'm even ready to return to work. After tomorrow.

Joining 'em

I've had it. I've tried everything. Squirt bottles, spankings, sticky tape, and even upside down car Mats. All of those are attempts to protect my furniture from the savage beast that is Muffin (and partly Tino too). Muffy is relentless. Relentless I tell you! Despite all my protective gear, she has broken through causing visible beginning stage Shredded Couch Syndrome. Its her work of art; her Picasso. Today I beefed up security and nailed kitchen size rugs onto my couch. They match pretty well and actually look better than all my other feeble attempts.

My hesitation with that is this: Putting carpet on my couch is going to encourage her scratching. My answer to that is this: She is doing damage despite all other discouragements. At least the rugs will protect the couch a while longer.

For five years I have tried to beat her. Not physically beat her. Just beat her at her game. She won this time. So, what is that old saying, "If you can't beat 'em, put rugs on your couch"?

Theraputic Purging

Now that Punky is gone, I have kind of been in a purging phase. Purging you ask? Like throwing up my food? No sir. I would never throw up my food intentionally. I love it too much. I'm purging stuff. And it feels gooooood.

It all started when I decided to get new carpet since the old gal is gone therefore not throwing up on the new stuff. Plus the old stuff was beyond ready to be purged since it had one too many barf-o-rama stains on it.

To prepare for the carpet install, I needed to remove all my furniture which led to furniture rearrangement. My house is tiny, and my living room is very oddly shaped with door frames and entry points breaking up the flow. As a result, I am stuck as far as practical furniture placement is concerned, but I am determined to have a different look in my living room when all is said and done. By George, I think I have succeeded. Simply by removing one item and moving locations of another, I think I'm satisfied.

All of that led to cleaning out of various filing cabinets, drawers, and to-be-decided piles. Things I haven't touched in months or years are being given away, donated or up for sale with my good buddy, Craig. As in Craig's List.

It feels good to get rid of Stuff and for some reason it has provided me with a good distraction and some excitement which has been helpful these days following Punky's departure. I feel lighter and freer and love getting rid of stuff.

In a World of Chuckies

Growing up, I loved dolls. Once I grew up, I continued to love dolls and even had my own porcelain doll collection. Nearly thirty porcelain dolls watched me sleep in my bedroom when I was in young adulthood. Each had their own name and I had assigned each with their own personality. Never were any of those dolls "creepy".

This weekend I have a Birthday party to attend for a 2 year old girl who loves baby dolls so I went shopping for the perfect doll for her. They all creeped me out! I couldn't bring myself to purchase any of the dolls, animated or otherwise. Their staring eyeballs. Their startling movements. Their robotic "voices". CREEPY I tell you. Creepy.

Now I realize why my niece hid a doll that was given to her for Christmas in her closet. This doll could "hear". It moved its head towards the sound of your voice. If you spoke to the left of the doll, she would move her head towards the left. Same as the right. It freaked my niece out so she hid it in the depths of her closet. I understand that now. Dolls are freaky.

Anybody want any porcelain dolls?

Vacation!

For one week I have been on vacation and I will continue to be on vacation for another whole week. Each day has proven to be busy and enjoyable. If it was financially feasible, I would totally retire. I'm not one of these people who will be working past retirement age simply to feel important or needed. Definitely not.

Much to my delight, I have taken a complete break from my job. Meaning I have not given thought to work very much (I'd be lying if I said not at all. I'm blogging about it after all). More than that, though, I don't really care. What I hear about work, I brush off my shoulder and think, "huh, I'm on vacation. Oh well." Its nice. Only one dream have I had regarding work.

Once again, I am reminded how blessed my life is with good friends. I have been unusually social during my hiatus, and each day I find myself making plans with yet another friend, acquaintance, cohort. Its amazing.

The one friend I wanted to be sure to touch base with during this time is my best friend, Mindy. We haven't seen each other since she had her second child 4-5 months ago. I called her. She hasn't called me back. Unaware of Vegas. Unaware of Punkin. Unaware in general. We're best friends by default, but really neither one of us know each other anymore. We've been friends since 1st grade, I was her maid of honor, and we still refer to each other as "bestest friends", but are we really?

Best friends are those that are there when you need them; when you're hurting; when you're happy; when you're bored. I have many best friends, but miss my bestest friend.

OK, so this took a complete deviation from vacation to best friends. Ahem. I'm free writing tonight.

Back to vacation! I am looking forward to my busy next week off and am going to try not to count down the days until I return to work. It'll be hard to return to "the unit" after my break, but I also know it'll feel good in a weird way too.

Sun Beams Through Clouds

This is my first morning waking up to not have Punkin staring me in the face waiting for her food. Today is the beginning of a new morning routine for me. Though Punkin wasn't there, Tino, Milo, and Muffy all were there greeting me with their own unique smiles and purrs.

For the very first time in 18 years, I did not open a can of cat food in the morning. Only Punkin ate the canned food; all others eat dry stuff. Except Tino is waking up to a new routine as well because he would have a small snack of canned food each morning. Not anymore, Tino. You could stand to lose a few pounds anyway.

A huge sigh of relieve overcame me this morning when I went downstairs to the litter boxes and didn't find an overwhelming mess just outside of the boxes. Fear and guilt overcame me last night when I thought perhaps maybe, just maybe, it was one of the other cats messing, and not Punkin afterall. Who is to really know when 4 cats use the same boxes? But what I thought to be true, was. No urine messes to clean up today! Oh, and I didn't wake up this morning to the sound of Punkin hacking up a pile of puke! No more trips to Walmart to fill my shopping cart up with boxes of canned cat food! For 18 years, I have been buying loads of cat food. It gets expensive at 44-48 cents a can. During the past year or more of her life, Punkin was eating 2-3 cans of cat food a DAY! That is about a $1 a day or more. Now I will have more money to buy myself some ice cream :)

Don't get me wrong; I miss her. Terribly. And still hear her walking across the floor from time to time. Since her hips were bad, she had a little "shuffle" about her that was very distinctive. However, today I am looking at the silver lining, and though I miss kissing and cuddling her, I won't miss certain aspects of caring for her.

For those of you who may feel sorry for me for not having to clean up cat vomit anymore (are there any out there?), don't worry. With 3 other cats, they are sure to keep me busy cleaning up their own piles of whatever they decide to force up their espophogas and through their mouths (though dry cat food barf and canned cat food barf are in two different classes of barf....way easier to pick up and clean).

And as an aside: If all of my cats live as long as Punkin did, I will get to enjoy them and love them for another 13 years! That is a long time. However, if I do decide to get another fourth cat, which I definitely don't want to do, but IF I ever do, his name is going to be Francisco. Cisco for short. Its from the movie "Elf" when Buddy the Elf hears a guy's name is Francisco and repeats it saying "that is fun to say!" Indeed, Francisco IS fun to say and will be the name of my next kitty. A LONG LONG LONG time from now ;)

Plus, saying I have 3 cats sounds so much less "crazy cat lady" than having 4 cats. Dontcha think?

. . . .And Then There Were Three

She wasn't even gone yet, and already I was acting as though she was. Last night on this blog, I deleted her picture and changed some headings to reflect "3" instead of "4". It will be weird to answer "Three" to the question "how many cats do you have?" Punkin has been with me for exactly 18 years. Her entire life; half of my entire life. She is the longest relationship I have ever had aside from my immediate family.

The decision to put an animal to sleep is heart wrenching and guilt provoking. How do you know when the time is right? The answer to that is: You just know. The difficult factor with Punkin is that she wasn't in pain. Or at least she didn't seem to be in pain. But she was sick. Sick with a hyperthyroid which medication did not seem to help. And she was messing in the house. Vomit, urine, and more vomit. One day, there were 7 different piles. And her back legs were about giving in. And she was deaf. But she was happy. Just last night she sat on my lap purring away while I silently said goodbye with several kisses. Goodbye. The most difficult word in the English language for me to say.

All day long, I held it together pretty good. I arranged for a dear friend to take Punky in for me. I couldn't do it myself, and I figured her loss would be torture enough. Why torture myself further. Another dear friend distracted me with a trip to Gooseberry Falls which is where I will now think of Punky's resting place since I declined to have any other reminders or keepsakes other than my own photos and memories.

Leaving my house to go to Gooseberry was difficult for I knew that once I left my house, I would not see her ever again. I left without saying the "G" word. Without anything. I said what I needed to say last night and throughout her entire life. I fed her her last meal which was Super Supper 9 Lives. I hope she was happy with that choice. So I left. I waited in the car while Kara came in to say her goodbyes and we went on our merry way.

She was on my mind all day, but Gooseberry was a lovely distraction. A purrfect distraction you might say. Beautiful and Gorgeous. Perfect in all other sense of the word.

I kept it together quite well. Came home. Called my mom and informed her. Pulled myself together and took the dogs for a hike. Now that I am home, not having to put on a front, reality is setting in. Nobody to see the rest of the day so tears are flowing freely as I clean out her food dishes, rinse out her litter box, and blog. But blog I must for I need to release it somehow.

Few people know because it hurts too much to tell anyone. Sympathetic How Are Yous or I'm Sorries will put me into uncontrollable sobs at this point so people must not know quite yet. Not until I can tell them without bursting into an ugly cry. For all 3 of you who may or may not read this, please respect that for me at this time. I don't need hugs or how are yous or cards or anything nor do I want them. Life as usual. I know you all care; I know what you want to say; I know you are sorry. And thank you for all of that. I feel your love and your sympathy.

Whenever I see a warm patch of sunlight, I will be reminded of Punky's love shining down on me and she will remain in a corner of my heart forever. I love you and miss you deeply.

Cherrio Faces and Fake Martinis

I just returned from a most fabulous vacation to Las Vegas! Ever since I came home, all I can think about is returning. We had such a grand time. Not since my trip to New Orleans several years ago have I been this excited about a trip. We are a pretty tame bunch of folks so there aren't wild and crazy stories to share. Aside from the wedding I attended, Cirque Du Soleil's "O", Blue Man Group, and Penn and Teller, the highlight of my trip can be summarized by M & M's, Cheerios and a Martini.

Let me explain. In reverse order.



The Martini. This was not my drink, though I pretended it was. My friend and I were sitting on a balcony watching a free water show at the Wynn. We technically should have bought a drink, but we were too cheap to splurge on a beverage at the Wynn being they are all hoity toity. So this lady and her husband got up from a table and we swooped our way in, took hold of their beverage glasses, and pretended they were ours. When we changed tables to get a better view, we made sure to grab "our" empty drink glasses. Your average Vegas goer would have ordered a drink from the bartender, but we are not your average Vegas goers. Made for a good laugh and lasting memory.



The Cheerio Face. I fell in love with a Cheerio face. We were eating Honey Nut Cheerios one morning and some fell to the floor in a random pattern that resembles a happy face. No special effects. Just a random face. I loved the little guy. I would have married him had it been legal to wed a Cheerio face in Vegas. The picture of my Cheerio Man is my favorite picture of my entire trip. I even took a video clip of the little fella.

M&Ms. There is a create your own M&M machine at M&M world in Las Vegas. You know, the kind where you can put your own sayings and logos on the tiny piece of candy coated deliciousness? Well, I wanted to get a gift for my cat sitter so I thought that would be perfect. So as I am creating my message, this guy asks if he can video tape me. For what? I ask. He tells me I am the very first customer to use the create your own message machine and he wants to video tape it so I let him. Nevermind I had forgotten to put deodorant on, had wet hair, and didn't put any make up on that morning. He informs me that the video will be used inside the store and will also be sent to Disney World (Or Land. Or Both.) for use there as well. Super cool! Then he had me write down my name, address, and phone number so that he could send me a care package. Neato!

Sooooo, next time you are in Vegas or Disney and see a video of some deodorantless girl with wet hair, an empty martini glass and married to a Cheerio Face, you'll know its me.