Almost July 9

 Last post, a week ago, I said I hadn't done much for four days.  I still haven't.  But that's where the blog comes in handy - I look back at past years about this time, and every time the first few weeks of heat really knocks me out.  I think it's because Florida doesn't ease into it.  You go from the highs being in the 70's to the highs being in the 90's and the humidity being insane and it just takes time to adjust.  I've also had a couple of days of almost being sick - little bit of a sore throat, glands swollen, aching all over - and now it's easing off.

I did one bit of cleaning which unexpectedly kicked up a lot of memories.  In the kitchen, there was a gap between the refrigerator and the wall - only about 18 inches so not big enough to do anything useful.  We got a heavy wire shelf, put casters on the bottom, and made a roll-out pantry, big enough to hold a dozen baskets.  I had visions of something like on TV, baskets with supplies neatly lined up and easily grabbed.  But Bob - - - well, he did have that need that if there was space, something had to go in it.  So the baskets soon were filled to overflowing with jumbled stuff.  I did put my foot down when he was thinking that he could put a narrow shelves on the wall, wide enough to hold one can in depth (because the rolling was only about 14 inches wide, so that left a few inches.  I pointed out that we would probably knock whatever was on those narrow shelves off every time we pulled out the rolling shelf, and that we wouldn't be able to access those shelves without pulling the rolling rack completely.  He then started eyeballing the bit of blank wall over the telephone and thinking we could put shelves and canned goods there - and I nixed that idea as well.

He contented himself with putting hooks along one side of the rolling rack to hang water bottles on straps, lunch bags (why did two people need 6 lunch bags?) and whatever else.

So those were memories as I took off all the baskets, emptied and washed them, wiped down the rack, and replaced everything, organized and one layer deep.

Neater, more organized, easier to grab whatever I want . . . and so damned empty.

While I had the rack out I thought I'd check the overhead cabinet - I couldn't remember if I had anything in there - and if I did, it was something that I hadn't used in years and could probably go away.  There was a vacuum sealer and a plastic food mill - yep, they could leave.  But also - YUCK!!  it was apparently the ancestral home of many generations of cockroaches.  Disgusting.  So much for a quick job.  I got that scrubbed out and the roach goop put in.  That left me to deal with the two pieces of equipment.  I really just wanted to throw them in the trash, but there's that big part of me that can't toss something that's still in perfect working order, merely covered in roach . . . . detritus.  But I couldn't bring myself to just take them to the donation site in that condition, so it was another hour with soap and water and Lysol and the steam cleaner, and *then* they could be donated.

I took advantage of my few days of not feeling well and wanting to rest by working some more on my medieval dress.  In addition to all the hand stitching I did on the edges, I needed to make a couple dozen eyelets up the front to lace it shut - more handstitching.  And in a grand moment of "it seemed like a good idea at the time" I decided to lace the sleeves on instead of sewing them into place.  My logic was that I might want to make this dress part of a costume to wear with one of my puppets, which would mean I would need to have a shoulder seam open to free up my working arm.  But needing the lacing holes mean another 74 stitched eyelets.  Oh, my.

Mostly, I've just been dreading tomorrow.  June was bad enough, with the memories of having the first inkling that something wasn't quite right with Bob's bloodwork, to our first trips to the oncology clinic and a bone marrow biopsy and trips to Shands.  In the background of all this was noticing that Fiona, now 20 years old, wasn't doing well.  She had kidney troubles for a few years, but usually if she was having a bad day we could do a sub-q fluid infusion and perk her up.  But it wasn't working.  We got up the morning of July 9 and she was bloated and couldn't eat or drink and we knew the time had come.  But we also had Bob's appointment to get the test results that morning.  We had to take her in as soon as the vet opened, say our farewells, and then, still numb with grief, looked blankly at the doctor when he said I'm sorry, but it is leukemia.

So July 9 is a damned hard day for me.  I thought about calling out from work (I haven't worked a July 9 yet) but I'm seeing if I can handle it tomorrow.  But I'll be thinking about them.  It had been a comfort to him (and me) when I suggested that I could put their ashes together.  He had softly said "Yes.  I would like to have Fiona with me."

So they're still together.  But I'm left behind.