To make up for the sad post, a couple random happy things from the many joys I have ALSO experienced in the last few days:
1) my Valentine's Day present from Pat is here. I got him a MedicAlert necklace so that he would be protected in emergencies... a sort of practical, weird gift, I know, but one that I hope demonstrates that I love him. He demonstrated WHY I love him by getting me mine... a MedicAlert necklace whose engraving reads simply, "incurably sexy."
Imagine being the EMT who finds that on my unconscious body. You'd be annoyed, sure, but you'd laugh, too. And you'd know the only important thing there really is to know about anyone, despite medical foibles: there's someone at home who cares.
2) this weekend and early next week, my new home is getting cleaned, fixed up, carpeted, painted. I'm just so excited I can't believe it. Next weekend, I am moving in! And I can garden! And cook for myself in my very own kitchen! And all that ooh-I'm-home stuff!
I can't believe it's true. It's like a dream so far... we went and walked around the place tonight, and it's perfect, and going to be more perfect when it's got new paint and carpet and my stuff and husband and cat and cookbooks and paints and easel and computer. Oh my!
3) the previous tenant released some of the ducks she has rehabbed into the drainage behind the complex. FIFTY FREAKIN' DUCKS come walking up every morning to ask for breakfast, and she has asked that we feed 'em. Fifty ducks. One duck is a duck; two ducks are a cacophany; ten ducks are an aflockalypse... I don't even know what to call fifty. Pets, I guess. But never late to dinner.
Obviously, I love ducks. They're my totem animal, partially because they're cussed, mean, venial, and filled with cupidity and malice. But... fifty ducks?!
Fifty ducks. I'm sure I'll write more about these guys later. Heck, maybe with pictures.
In the meantime, read this:
It's EXACTLY why I shouldn't be allowed to play any kind of game among civilized people willing to share a consensual fantasy.