Eight Lives Left

These are the 129-year old vases that my mother brought to me, along with an antique gold mirror that I was forced to inherit. At first I didn’t like the vases, but they seem to go ok with the mirror, so I’m content.

And here are some pictures of my Noke kitty. She’s taken a turned over black basket and a left-behind moving blanket and turned them into a kitty nest. Eventually I’ll need to put all that stuff away, but for now I’m not messing with her spot.

Absolutely hysterical.

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I made my first mortgage payment! I’m a grown-up now!

FedEx came and picked up the substandard work table yesterday, and today Amazon refunded me my money. When work was done I went out to Staples and found a really nice heavy wood desk in mission style for a little less than I had paid for the work table.

It should be delivered Monday and then I can call the Staples subcontractor who puts furniture together. I’m thinking by July 4th weekend I’ll have the office setup and the last of the boxes out of here, so that’s a real relief.

Also the hope chest came today. It was my Great Aunt’s and is at least 129 years old. My parents had it professionally refinished and then shipped it to me and it’s really lovely. I’ll have to take a picture of it to post here. They had it finished in a cherry stain, so it just about perfectly matches my bedroom furniture, and it fits at the foot of the bed in the bedroom. I don’t know yet what I’ll be putting in it, but we loved our Great Aunt dearly and to have something of hers is nice.

I got all the trash from the packing materials taken out, and I made a run to the Goodwill and returned some things to Home Depot before I went desk shopping. Things are coming together. Once I’m done unpacking I’ll take lots of pictures of the place so everyone can see how nice it looks.

Lea will be here on July 18th! WOOT! I need to buy a bed for her! And a shower curtain!

I keep remembering how he asked me to go with him when he had to have his old kitty Kit put to sleep. He cried in my arms afterwards and I rocked him. He asked me to hold his mother’s ashes for him when we all made the move to Colorado because I was going first and he knew I’d be very careful and respectful of the urn. He came to me for advice and I went to him for advice.

And then I called him on being hypocritical about something and he went nuts on me. He physically threatened me, tried to hurt me verbally with the most vicious things he could think of, and sent me taunting emails for years after we had stopped being friends. Some of you might remember that period because it was right around the time I started writing in a journal as well. So I know what he was capable of, but I also know he cried about his mom and his cat.

Well. Even my ex-husband cried after he’d killed my kitties. Maybe tears don’t mean much.