Tag: photos

And then on Tuesday…

What the hell is that? A bear? A dog? I don’t know. It’s a dog toy, and I took it to Tim to keep him company in the hospital, then when he gets home, he can give it to Rex to ignore.

Tim still has the tube going into his lung. He went most of the day without pain medication. Not by choice, but because apparently the night nurse is the only one who realizes that a tube going into his side and through ribs that were separated last night to get to his lung might LEAVE HIM IN PAIN. I knew I liked his night nurse.

No word yet on when he might get to come home. I hope it’s Wednesday. He’s getting lots of sleep. He said if he hadn’t been drugged in the wee small hours of Tuesday morning he’d have never let me take photos to be put on the Internet. I printed my post and your comments and took them to him. Thank goodness for your kind words; otherwise, the photos would have given him a relapse. And yet some of you think I’m a good friend to him… Heh.

The dogs are being so good. Sugar is extra playful. Margot hasn’t started a fight yet. Guinness is sharing her bones. Rex REALLY misses Tim. A lot. Tonight, Tim called just as we finished eating, and Rex ran over and sat down in front of me, staring at the phone like he knew who was on the other end. Poor guy. Tom did some cleaning in Tim’s apartment, so he can come home and just go to bed without worrying about things, and Lynne and I went to the hospital. While we were there, the night nurse came in and said Tim was finally allowed to drink and eat anything he wanted. (I told you I like her.) Of course, it was too late for them to order a meal, and the cafeteria was closed. She did find him a container of Jello and brought him lots of juice and water. Meanwhile, Lynne went downstairs to McDonald’s and brought him back fries (hey, he asked) and ice cream with chocolate syrup. He could only eat a few fries, but he scarfed down the ice cream and ate his Jello. He was in good spirits (Jim had called and made him laugh a lot), and Lynne and I talked to him until we bored him to sleep.

Sleep is pretty much all I want right now, too. But I’ll leave you with this reminder from Tim’s hospital:

Another Saturday night

I keep having those little tremors of excitement inside, the kind you have when something really, really good is about to happen. I’m sure it wasn’t because of this:

even though that IS my first attempt to make an alfredo sauce to put with chicken and pasta. Tim and Tom would have to say whether it was a success. Though I must tell you that the asparagus was totally rocking, cooked to exactly the crispness that I like. (And everyone at The Compound will have asparagus pee tonight, always an occasion. We don’t get out much, you know.)

Actually, it’s that “we don’t get out much” thing that helps fuel my excitement. I’m not big on traveling. Oh, occasionally I enjoy getting away, but since I don’t like to fly, and I never want to fly over water, the idea of going to Europe or anywhere else off this continent is in no way appealing to me. For that reason, when someone I care about does take that kind of trip and is excited about it, I don’t feel anything but bliss for them. No wistfulness, no envy, no jealousy–nothing but happiness for their happiness.

All day long, I’ve been thinking of Lindsey and Rhonda. Lindsey left this morning for Bangkok via Tokyo. Rhonda left tonight for Bangkok via Paris. While they wished they could be traveling together, in a way, I think it’s also exciting that they’re having separate adventures that will end up with both of them in the same place, full of experiences to tell each other. Plus they’ll be having their reunion on what is almost their first wedding anniversary. What a romantic and exciting way to celebrate another year in their life together.

Not only do I get to be happy for them, but their trip means Tim gets to take care of Sugar at The Compound while they are gone.


Poor Sugar. Isn’t it a terrible thing to be left in Tim’s care?

There’ll be a period of adjustment for Margot and Guinness, but it’s Rex who’s acting a little different. He likes Sugar. They even play together when she feels more at home. But Rex has suddenly turned into this big baby who wants to be close to Tim all the time. Of course, he’s always devoted to Tim, but this is more along the lines of, “I’m still your number one dog, right, right, RIGHT? Why are you holding that other dog? Look at how CUTE I am. Am I not the most endearing dog ever?” Guinness must sense that Rex is needy, because she even let him lie across her paws today and didn’t try to take his bone away when he was doing his, “Look at me! I’ve got a bone! Am I not the cutest dog ever with this bone?”

He kind of is…

Heroes and Villains

My second grade teacher was my first villain.

Because I was often sick as a child, I grew comfortable in the quieter company of adults–my parents, older relatives, my doctors and nurses–and preferred their world to the noise and messiness of children. I was shy and timid, and my parents worried about how I’d be when I started school. They were able to entice me out of my shell by bringing a dog, our mixed breed Dopey Dan, into my life. Dopey was born to a dachshund whose owner tried to drown the puppies when he found out they weren’t purebred. My parents told me that as a result, Dopey was shy and afraid. I had to be brave so that I could teach him that it was okay to be around kids.

I had smart parents, and I was also fortunate to have other good adults in my life. Like the sweetest kindergarten teacher, Miss Harris, who acted like she didn’t know I once replaced my broken Crayons with Linda Bishop’s perfect ones. (Sorry, Linda.) Then I had a lovely first grade teacher, Mrs. Griffin, one of those ancient Southern ladies who smelled faintly of talcum powder and who had ample breasts that translated into smothering hugs in the most comforting way.

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….so….tired….

Tonight Lindsey and I went to Houston’s Theater District and shot some photos. She’s learning the features of her hot new camera before the trip she and Rhonda are about to take. I wanted to tag along and take photos with my more modest camera while salivating over hers.

A while back, Mark had asked for some downtown shots. Mark, this is one tiny part of Houston we could squeeze in before we lost all light (and before Lindsey bought dinner for all The Compounders and Rhonda–plus Sugar got to hang with Rex, Margot, and Guinness–thanks, Lindsey!).

I keep most of my Flickr photos private, but if you’re interested, feel free to check out the first downtown Houston set. You can see them as a slideshow, or you can look at them individually for identifying comments. If I’ve misnamed any of the buildings, PLEASE don’t hesitate to correct me and I’ll make it right on Flickr. Thanks!

And if you’re not into another damn hibiscus or moon shot, maybe you’d like to check out Mark G. Harris’s Question No. 5 for writers.

These shoes rule

I don’t know what you’re talking about in this post, but one of the most exciting things that happened in my little part of Houston on Saturday night was that Guinness…


apparently fell in love with Lindsey’s shoes. In fact, I think we all did, because it seems that at one point or another during the night, I saw each of us stick a toe in them.

I’m pretty sure these are the kinds of things the Bloomsbury Group used to do on Saturday night.

Button Sunday

Last night I saw a pregnant dog off leash in the neighborhood. I circled around the block and came back to try to find her, but either she’d been called in by her person (HOPE) or she’d found a place to hide (DREAD).

I promise not to rant about everything that makes me angry about that first paragraph. There’s a wealth of information online about why spaying and neutering is the best option for animals.

To end this in a more upbeat way, here’s a photo Lindsey took with my camera last night in The Compound office of Tim holding a very, very special rescued dog, Lindsey and Rhonda’s Sugar.

Thinking about water

Water

It was a Maine lobster town—
each morning boatloads of hands
pushed off for granite
quarries on the islands,

and left dozens of bleak
white frame houses stuck
like oyster shells
on a hill of rock,

and below us, the sea lapped
the raw little match-stick
mazes of a weir,
where the fish for bait were trapped.

Remember? We sat on a slab of rock.
From this distance in time
it seems the color
of iris, rotting and turning purpler,

but it was only
the usual gray rock
turning the usual green
when drenched by the sea.

The sea drenched the rock
at our feet all day,
and kept tearing away
flake after flake.

One night you dreamed
you were a mermaid clinging to a wharf-pile,
and trying to pull
off the barnacles with your hands.

We wished our two souls
might return like gulls
to the rock. In the end,
the water was too cold for us.

—— Robert Lowell

For RtM

I do remember having to leave the house to buy them, and the excitement of choosing one from among so many with my limited allowance. I’m including a clickable photo after the cut so you can see the title and Gene can see the sales sticker. I’m sure he remembers the store. Really, it’s awesome that iTunes only charges twenty-one cents more all these decades later.

No, I can’t forget…