New month, new banner!
Christine – who’s done a LOT of banners for me lately – created this one, too. Just seeing those sweet little faces is making me itchy to have more wee fosters! Hey, I’m practically halfway through my six-week recovery period, aren’t I? Yay!
I don’t have a whole lot to write about, as you can imagine. I can tell you that I’m feeling pretty good these days, although yesterday I tried to put on sports bra that was tighter than the cheap ones I’ve been wearing from Walmart, and I made it maybe five minutes before I was ripping that damn bra off and getting another cheap bra out of the drawer.
I’m sleeping okay lately, with the help of painkillers. Fred is being absolutely spoiled, because more often than not lately, we’re off to bed by 8:30. I lay in bed and surf the internet on my netbook (LOVE that thing), and he’s probably sound asleep well before 9:00. I sleep propped up on pillows with a pillow on either side of me where I rest my arms. I’ve never been much of a back sleeper, but the couple of times I’ve attempted laying on my side, it hasn’t gone so well, so I’m a back sleeper for now.
Arizona Robin (who is not the same person as Arizona Robbins, if you were wondering) asked yesterday how difficult it is to brush my hair what with the scalp scabs. It’s not a problem, really – I’m careful not to brush too hard after my shower, and I don’t bother to spend much time styling my hair, because this is how it looks 23 1/2 hours of the day:
(Note the inside-out white t-shirt.)
The high point of my day is at 3:30, when I get to take that thing off my head, the Ace bandages off my arms, all my clothes off, and take a shower. Fred gets home just about the time I get out of the shower, and he wraps my arms for me and then puts the head garment back on me. (If pressed, I could probably do the Ace bandages on my arms, but I don’t think I could get that head thing back on.) That fifteen minutes or half hour of freedom is kind of glorious, and I look forward to the time when I won’t have to wear all that shit.
I’m watching a LOT of TV these days. I set up to tape episodes of House, and I’ve probably watched 15 – 20 episodes and have another 20-something on the DVR. Watching TV wasn’t an easy thing for me in the week and a half after surgery, because I kept falling asleep. It took me three tries to watch one particular episode of House because I slept through the entire thing the first try through, and then most of the way in the second attempt.
Yesterday, I watched an episode of Confessions of Animal Hoarders (or whatever the hell it’s called) and was so disturbed by the fact that these people with 80 cats were washing their dirty litter boxes IN THE KITCHEN SINK that I had to pause the show and go upstairs and take a nap. I mean, GAH. SHITTY LITTER BOXES DO NOT GET WASHED IN THE KITCHEN SINK, FOR THE LOVE OF CHRIST, PEOPLE. Wash them outside with the hose, or in the utility sink (if you have one), or if you MUST, wash them in the shower and then sanitize the FUCK out of the shower.
I myself, actually, do not wash the litter boxes in any of those places. I prefer to spray down empty litter boxes with my favorite cleaning spray, then once they’re scrubbed cleaned I finish them with the spray bottle of 50/50 white vinegar and water. When they’re completely dry, I wipe down the lower third of the litter boxes with olive oil, let that soak in and dry, and then refill them with clean litter.
(I’m currently using 50% Precious Cat and 50% Fresh Step. The Precious Cat is good litter (and as dust-free as any I’ve seen), but doesn’t quite do the job of keeping down the smell that I’d hope for.)
The olive oil helps keep clumps from sticking to the litter box. If you were wondering.
Well. Wasn’t THAT a fascinating tangent?
Have I ever mentioned that I can hardly stand how gorgeous Corbie is?
SO gorgeous. He knows it, too.
Corbie ear floof.
Kara, enjoying the unseasonably warm weather we’ve had lately (NOT complaining!)
Miz Poo, doing the same.
Previously
2010: I guess it’s March’s plan to come in like a lion
2009: No entry.
2008: No entry.
2007: Natalie Maines could use some wardrobe advice, though, and I hope I’m not trampling all over her Right to Freely Dress Like a Bag Lady when I say that.
2006: It was so friggin’ cute I made Fred listen to it, too.
2005: I have my finger on the pulse of pop culture, apparently.
2004: A day in the life.
2003: What makes me crazy.
2002: No entry.
2001: No entry.
2000: Okay, enough of the wallowing.