It's over!

Woo hoo! Chloe had her last vet visit on Monday and that cursed Elizabethan collar is gone, gone, gone! All that remains now is to pay off the rest of the giganticus vet bill. So, yay!
It's windy and raining here today and it's made the cats go a little bats. They want in, they want out, they want in ... argh.
Work continues much the same as usual and I had a revelation yesterday, or an epiphany if you like. I've spent so much time lately focusing on crap that doesn't matter that I had forgotten what does. Honestly. I had to get J to tell me. Sad. But I felt lighter.
I just hope it holds!
We saw Snakes on a Plane yesterday and it's a lot of fun. B-grade movie and there's no way it could have lived up to its hype but it's a lot of fun nonetheless.
Also ... I submitted a short story on Monday. And not just anywhere. I submitted it to Analog _ nothing like aiming high! So in a few weeks I'll either be ecstatic, or I'll be framing my first ever rejection slip.
I haven't done a lot of writing since I finished that story, it took a lot out of me for a while, more than I thought. But the ideas are starting to yawn, stretch, crack their muscles .... so here's hoping!
Stuff to do, cats to trip over ....

Reading: Labyrinth by Kate Mosse
Working on: Iris by Jill Oxton

Cats cats cats

Just because we have so many and I couldn't think of anything else to call the post. That and I've been writing about Chloe a lot lately, what with her health issues and all.
So I thought a pencil sketch profile of the rest of Field's Eleven might be in order.
Marx: 9 years old, black and white shorthaired moggy. Somewhat grumpy patriarch of Field's Eleven, although he would sell his whiskers for a pat. From anyone; he's not fussy.
Fagin: About 9 years old, white longhaired moggy. Lovely cat if not too bright. Marx's nemesis.
JD: 6 years old, black longhaired moggy. Grumpy from head to toe and does not like to be picked up, although will feign friendliness when he's hungry.
Casper: 5 years old, grey and white tabby. Doesn't like people apart from J and spends a lot of his time away, engaged in secret cat work.
Misty the Mighty: 3 years old, dilute calico. It's all about Misty.
Sam: about 3 years old, ginger tabby. Love monkey.
Scout: 2 years old, black and white, mad. As in, agoraphobic, although she's started to go outside for short bursts now. Still mad.
Chloe: 2 years old, dilute calico, paler than Misty. Sweet little girl, even with the Elizabethan collar. Very shy of strangers, though.
Leo: Nearly a year old, ginger and white fluff-monster. Very sweet but once again, not very bright.
Merlin: About the same age as Leo. Grey tabby. A boy's cat but very loving - when he wants something.
Piper: About 8 months old I think? Black and white, fearless and a real little cutie.
So there you have it. Field's Eleven.
Makes me tired just typing it!

Reading: Labyrinth by Kate Mosse
Working on: Breast Cancer Mandala ribbon freebie.

Let it snow

Okay, so despite the fact it's nearly the end of August, and technically speaking nearly spring, it's snowing. At sea level. It's not really settling, because it's been raining as well, but ... snow.
I don't have a lot to add; everything is pretty much business as usual. Chloe still has her collar on, probably for another week, the industrial action continues at work and I STILL have a cold.
Over and out ... for now.

I think too much

Which is what anyone who knows me would say. I do. I over-analyse things to death. Not important things but really stupid things that just get hooked into my brain.
I asked someone at work about the promotion that's coming up in my department and he said that I'd be considered seriously, which is encouraging.
Today is supposed to be my day off but I just got a call asking if I'd be available tonight because there's meant to be industrial action. All of these little strikes ... four hours here, a shift there ... are taking a toll. And surely not just on the non-union members.
I wish they would get their stuff sorted out with the company; it's one of the howler monkeys that's been pulling at my psyche lately. That, and Chloe of course, and J. Although J started work yesterday. He has a temporary contract for a month, then when the month is up he can apply for the fulltime job. Which would be good because it would mean he wouldn't have to go back to the freezing works in December.
So one down, two to go.
Chloe has a vet appointment on Thursday but probably not to get her collar off because I imagine the remaining stitches won't come out until next week.
I did take the collar off her last night for a little while so she could have a ''bath''. She was very good and left her stitches alone.
I've been doing some stitching, working on one of my own projects, but I haven't picked up another book since I finished Keeping Faith by Jodi Picoult, which was really good.
Well, that's it for another day.

The Chloe saga ...

... continues. We took her to the vet this morning, hoping to be rid of the Elizabethan collar but it wasn't meant to be. The vet took her stitches out, then found a little piece of skin had folded over and it had to be re-stitched. So she's still wearing the collar. *Sigh*
It's my day off today and we were going to go to the movies but by the time we got home from the vets we were just tired and discouraged, so didn't do much of anything. I finished a puffy book to review for work. I have about four sitting on my desk that need to be reviewed. On the bright side, reading after work seems to be doing the trick _ it helps me wind down and I'm starting to finally get through the backlog that I have, so it's all good.
J is cooking roast chicken for dinner tonight, which is a treat for me because it means I don't have to cook (woo hoo).
I'm going to set aside the quilt square for tonight and pick up one of my other WIPs, one that's for me. I have some programmes to catch up on, so I'm planning a stitching/TV night.
I'm also wondering if I've had a humour transplant lately. Between Chloe, and the industrial action at work turning nasty, and J and I slipping into complacency .... eh.
I've been noticing it lately with my TV column. My spark has taken a holiday. So I can either find it again, or follow it to wherever it's gone.
Blergh.

Nothing new

So why am I here? Not in an existential, navel-gazing way. Just, why am I blogging if I have nothing new to blog? No pithy observations, no funny things on the way to the forum ... is it me, or is this turning into a Stevie Wonder song?
Two more days before Chloe gets that damn collar off _ yay for all of us!
Work is well, work. The union members went on strike last night, but given that, in my department most of the union members are lazy at the best of times, it had little impact.
I have a new, shiny lite Visa to play with but I must be good this time, because my mother wants me to book airline tickets for her ... at some stage. It doesn't mean I can't go shopping. I just can't go nuts.
That's really all I have.

Decompression

Ah ... I can finally pay some bills and take large chunks out of things. It's a good feeling.
Chloe still has her collar on, because every time we take it off, she goes straight for the stitches. Sigh. Hopefully she'll be able to get it off on Thursday, provided the vet takes the stitches out.
I was supposed to have last night off but got called in to work in case of industrial action _ which didn't happen. I wasn't happy but I really don't want to go into it.
We did the grocery shopping today, visited Mum and went to the cemetary; that was our day pretty much.
I don't have a lot to add ...