Tag: photos

Someone Like Her

ETA: Two more photos behind the cut.

Those of you who’ve read Someone Like You–um, that would be ALL of you, right?–remember that the oft bitchy but troubled Natasha had a certain obsession. Among the vast array of Timothy James Beck characters, I admit that I have a soft spot for Natasha. Created mainly by Jim, with a few quirks and some action thrown in by the rest of us, she’s just such a big mess that even her Evil Retail Manager behavior makes me laugh.

I’d totally forgotten that a few days before Tim went into the hospital, I was poking around on eBay and found a steal. So when a box was delivered today, I had no idea what was in it. I hope it’ll make Tim laugh later. It will always make me think of Natasha Deere.


Dolly Parton doll, circa 1978

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Late Start, Early Spring

I’m getting a late start today because as so often happens when I think my schedule is under control, my body decides otherwise. Though I didn’t get a migraine, I got the vision problems that come with one. That means lying down until I can see to function–not to mention drive–again.

But now Tom’s dinner is ready, I can see, and it’s time to get moving. I’m taking a plate with me to the hospital so I can eat with Tim this evening. Tom won’t thank me for the lima beans because he doesn’t like them, and Tim won’t thank me for eating them in front of him because he loves them as much as I do. Maybe evil from Greg and Rhonda is starting to seep through my Shield of Goodness.

While I’ve been busy elsewhere, an early spring has come to The Compound. I leave you with this photo to thank you for your continued good wishes for all of us here, especially Tim. And behind the cut are a few more to add to a virtual garden for you.

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Delayed Hump Day Happy

This right here is someone I like to call Oh No, I Would NEVER Keep You Awake All Night With My Crying and Barking.

Tyson sleeps in a crate at night because he can’t be trusted not to make an appetizer of electrical cords. This is never a problem at Tim’s. Thursday night when Tim went in the hospital, Tyson and Rex stayed at Tim’s with Greg, and Greg said Rex was fine, but Tyson had a little trouble falling asleep. Since Tyson was going to adoption day on Saturday, we moved his crate over here and he spent Friday night with us. He whimpered a few times, but nothing serious. Saturday night, I didn’t put them in their crates until 4 a.m., and they were too tired to care. Sunday night, Tyson barked and cried all night long, so Monday night, I just shut all four dogs in the room with us and let them sleep uncrated because I was too exhausted to listen to him.

When I told Tim what was going on, he said Tyson was upset because he couldn’t SEE us. So we moved Rex’s and Tyson’s crates into our bedroom, intending to let the boys sleep in their crates and Margot and Guinness sleep with us (as usual). This left us with only a small path to move through our bedroom, plus we have to keep one of the bedroom doors closed to make room for a super size crate. But we don’t care because it worked. The barking and crying stopped.

Now Rex and Tyson actually want to get in their crates, but they keep getting taken over by squatters. Today, I intended to do a bunch of stuff, including taking a nap. Guinness and Margot stretched out together in Rex’s crate, Rex curled up against my back, and Tyson had my legs pinned down in case I tried to escape.

He needn’t have worried. When I went to the hospital early this morning, Tim looked fantastic. While I was there, they moved him out of ICU and into a room. He’s on serious pain medication and is very sleepy, so I’m staying away in hopes that he can get rest. He’s doing really, really well. Later, I’m taking back his gum, Jolly Ranchers, phone charger, jammies of his own to wear, and whatever else will fit in my backpack.

Yesterday, I spent most of the day looking at this:

Except sometimes when the door would open and I’d see things like this:

Tim isn’t visible behind a curtain at the end of that long hall, but I could see his anesthesiologist and assistants giving him his thoracic epidural. A few vertebrae lower, and he could have given birth.

Speaking of babies…

That’s the baby from the King Cake Greg brought us last week from New Orleans. They can no longer put the baby IN the cake (lawsuits!), so they sort of stick it under the cake. Anyway, I didn’t eat so many slices of King Cake because it was delicious and I’m a hog. I did it to find the baby. Except Greg found it. Now the baby can find YOU something to be happy about–OTHER than Tim’s recovery and Tyson’s restful nights–from this book if you comment with a page number between 1 and 611, and another number between 1 and 25.

Button Sunday

Today’s button is a quote from Ralph Waldo Emerson:

I can’t tell you how much it means to me to know there are so many masterpieces making Tim’s world a more beautiful place. I’m delivering all the good thoughts and get well wishes being sent his way from friends who’re calling, e-mailing, Tweeting, and Facebooking (that’s a verb, right?). Tim may be the perfect example of a broke writer and artist, but he’s wealthy in the love and support from new and lifelong friends.

Then there are the ones of you who don’t really know him but know how much he means to me and send your best. I draw so much strength from all of you–and it gives Tom a chance not to have to be my rock of fortitude 24/7.

What could be better than having a King Cake delivered all the way from New Orleans? It may be Greg’s bad luck that he pulled up to The Compound on the same day Tim’s lung collapsed, but it was our good luck that he was here. Between him, Rhonda, Lindsey, Rex’s attorney Laura, and Lynne, The Compound people and dogs have been taken care of, amused, diverted, and surrounded by love and endless acts of kindness and attention.

Greg’s signing at Murder By the Book was a lot of fun on Saturday. And in one of those spontaneous acts of friendship and generosity, he pulled A Coventry Wedding from his shopping bag and held it up to show everyone. I didn’t even know they were carrying the book there, and the great folks who staff this jewel of a bookstore were right on it, bringing stock to the front counter so I could sign it and offering to host a booksigning for me, though there’s not a murder to be found in Coventry.

Now I need to get one of Lindsey’s delicious cookie brownies to the hospital for Tim before they take him off solid foods again in preparation for his surgery tomorrow. I’ll keep you posted on his status. He’s in good spirits–thanks to his many friends.

A Tim update

In 2007, when Tim was in the hospital, he let me take a few photos. When I was in his room Thursday night, going through a bag he usually hauls around with him, I found his camera. When my eyes lit up, he said, “NO.” But if you ever think I’m a wonderful friend, let me dispel that with what I did when he was helpless while phoning home yesterday:

His room looks over the entrance to the Houston Zoo. If anything escapes, we’ll be in the perfect spot to watch the drama unfold. He also has a view of the downtown skyline. At least he does if he sits up, scoots down, and can focus through the pain (pausing for groan at the pun):

Apparently, X-rays show that his lung keeps trying to collapse again. This is the reason for surgery, which has now been rescheduled for Monday afternoon. They are removing scarred parts of his lung and assure him he won’t even miss them. Then they are attaching his lung to his chest wall so it won’t collapse again. It sounds like a good time to me!

I spent the afternoon with him yesterday and am about to see him again before Greg’s signing. Friday evening, Rhonda and Lindsey arrived at the hospital with Greg and a care package containing movies, gum, magazines, and an electronic device with some word games (which he told me on the phone last night he likes). After he received the wrong dinner (all liquids), they finally delivered a cheeseburger and fries. I don’t know if it was any good, but he scarfed it down. We left him in good spirits, considering. I know it was nice for him to see something other than hospital walls and my old face for a change.

Note to Tim stalkers: There’s a policeman stationed outside Tim’s room 24/7. We suspect one of his roommates may be entangled with the law in some way. Tim really should write a group of short stories detailing the colorful cast of characters he’s met on his two stays in this hospital.

I arrived home last night to the best evening ever. Greg had spent the afternoon making his fantastic potato and leek soup. Rhonda and Lindsay and Tom made a big salad. All the dogs were fed and happy. We ate, watched Nick and Norah’s Infinite Playlist, and Lindsey baked cookie brownies which she and Tom served up hot with scoops of Blue Bell vanilla ice cream. I suspect we had a better night than Tim. Well, most of us did. Then there were the ones who don’t understand why he doesn’t come home:

Sad Rex curling up next to Greg.

Tyson ignoring toys.

For those who asked, you can send cards to Timothy J. Lambert, P.O. Box 131845, Houston, TX, 77219. Thank you again to everyone who’s been checking on him.

The Night of Birthdays in Photos

Hmmm. This looks like the Leaning Tower of Cake. But it wasn’t really leaning. Nor were we on board a listing Love Boat, hearts notwithstanding. We were at The Compound. Clearly, I don’t know how to hold my camera. Monday was Lindsey’s birthday, so this is the heart cake I made for our celebration Tuesday night.

Note the nod to Mally the Duck among her gifts. I was initially calling this one Mally, as well, but I think his name is Honor. At least I heard someone–maybe Rhonda?–say, “Honor the Duck.”

more photos behind the cut