Today was a better day.
I still have random periods where I want to cry, but I think I’m cried out.
Today was Badger’s appointment.
I stayed home and enjoyed a quiet house.
Hey, I’m essentially a hermit.
I love my family, but I also love my alone time.
We seem to have settled into this afternoon storm, evening rain pattern, so it’s an inside day.
I watch way too much TV, play far too much Mahjong online, and spend too much time staring at old blog entries.
My head feels stuffed with cotton and a little achy tonight.
I had to go back and forth with the doctor’s office, and Cowboy’s appointment still isn’t showing correctly on the patient portal.
The notice about his lab work came very late, almost at the last minute, and of course the results take about a week to come back.
At first they couldn’t reschedule him until July, which felt too far away.
Thankfully, they were able to fit him in at the end of June at the branch here in town, which is at least closer and sooner.
He also has another appointment in early June with a different doctor.
I don’t think the two things are connected, but I wanted to be sure the doctors had all the information.
Cowboy wants the kitchen floor fixed before his appointment.
That’s going to be something.
I’m not looking forward to it.
He likes things done a certain way when he remodels, and Badger and I aren’t much help.
With how much he’s hurting lately, I imagine he won’t have much patience.
I think that Cowboy is worried that something major may show up with these doctor appointments.
He wants to be sure the remodeling is done just in case something does show up.
He doesn’t want us falling through the floor, which is a real possibility.
It’s a good chance, though, that he didn’t do the mail-in test correctly, and the other problem, well, he’s been dealing with that for a good five years.
Odds are that nothing will be found with it either.
I think Uncle’s death has spooked him a bit, though.
There was only a 14‑year difference in their ages.
I guess it just makes him worry a little more about what the tests might turn up.
The cat lady brought that black cat back, missing half an ear, and spayed.
She had been in heat, not pregnant.
That cat shot out of the cage like a rocket, straight to the Blue House across from the mailboxes garage.
The storm hit almost as soon as the woman pulled out.
It was a terrible way to welcome a cat back to the neighborhood.
I wish we could trap the other two cats I feed, but you can’t put a trap in my yard.
You’ll end up catching an angry raccoon, and no one wants to deal with that.
On the other hand, we don’t want kittens all over the place either.
It looks like I'm going up to Uncle’s Saturday.
The plan is to go through all the papers, see if anything is needed, like insurance or titles, throw the junk papers out, and let the town take the house.
With all the rain we've had, that house will be knee‑deep in water.
There’s really no roof.
The smell was horrendous last week, and I don’t even want to think about how bad it will be this week.
She’s tired of being a nomad and wants to settle down.
She’s planning to talk to her male companion about paying the delinquent taxes on my uncle’s lot and moving into the house.
Well, I sure hope she shows him the pictures of that house.
That house is a complete teardown.
It’s in a historical district, so there may be restrictions on what you can build.
I always said it would be a cold day in Hades before I moved back to that town.
But never say never.
They’ve got everything we don’t have here, all within walking distance.
Meanwhile, here you’ve got to get in the car and drive forever just to grab a fancy coffee.
As a non-driver, the thought of being independent, of taking myself to the doctor, going shopping, or even grabbing coffee, is so tempting.
Still, it’s a moot point.
I’m not leaving Cowboy, and Cowboy’s not leaving the town he grew up in.
When I was young, I couldn’t wait to escape that town.
Escape the narrow-minded people.
The judgmental people.
I thought I’d never look back.
But getting older changes the way you see things.
That same town, the one I ran from, had everything you could need within walking distance: a theater, stores, restaurants, doctors, and even a vet.
Out here, you’ve got to drive twelve miles just to grab a coffee, and I can’t even do that.
Suddenly, that little town doesn’t look so bad after all.
I think I’m done chatting.
Time to go back to yelling at the home-buying shows.
Coming from a poor girl who has to share one bathroom with about eight people, double vanities aren’t important if you’ve got an en suite.
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