Today is like any other Day...

Coming home was wonderful.  The bed so soft and warm, the kitty under my chin, the steam emanating from the radiators. I had much to do...unpacking, washing clothes, wrapping all the gifts I brought home, getting re-acquainted with the routine of the morning swim, and catching up on all the news I missed.

Now I am bored as shit. 

I have tried to work in the basement studio...it's so difficult, coming from the grand space I occupied in the old mill.  I am missing the boys across the hall, Manette on the 4th floor, and my daily calls to Len to bang the furnace to get the heat up to the 2nd floor. Most of all I miss the bright sunshine screaming through the windows. I am just plain missing everything. I am dying to get the new book exchange going, but can't seem to get myself into the basement to work on anything. It's a cold, dark space, and all I can hear is my mom's television above me.

Not exactly conducive to the creative mind.

Goodbye, Cookie-Pie

A few months back I raised the question about what to do with my kitty when I went away. Well, unfortunately, that problem is solved, although I am completely devastated by the loss of Cookie.

When I came home from my 5 week European sojourn, Cookie was very sick.  She had lost a ton of weight, was not eating and was not pooping.  I took her to the vet, and was told she had a mass/tumor growing inside her.

Cookie passed away at home with me on Thursday night. She was with me for over 15 years and I am so sad and lonely without her.

Deferred or not Deferred, THAT is the Question.

After my experience in the hospital Romania, (see http://papergirlsstudio.blogspot.com/2010/11/in-my-dirty-hospital-johnny.html ) I felt I needed to inform the Peace Corps about my new health condition.  Although an ulcer is perfectly curable today, they need me to be symptom-free for 6 months. Since my attack occurred October 30th, it will be only 5 months from the time I leave for Ukraine. At first, I thought I wouldn't say anything, but on reflection, if something happens while I am in full volunteer mode I could be sent home for lack of disclosure. I can't think of anything more humiliating than being asked to leave a volunteer job.

SO, I sent all my information to the "Powers that Be" and will now wait to see what they say.  The woman I spoke to thought maybe it was still possible for me to leave in March, but had to run it by the medical staff to be sure. I will have to be re-tested for it, but that's a small matter. She said the worst that could happen would be that I would have to wait until the next group ships out to Ukraine, which I believe is in September.

It's all good, either way.

Farewell, my Cookie-Pie

Cookie Sleeping 2009

Cookie passed away last night.  My poor baby.  She was so sick and her little body just gave out.  I am really sad and miss her so much. I keep thinking that if I hadn't been away for so long she might have had a chance.  When she became ill my Mom didn't have any way of knowing.  Perhaps if I had come home earlier? I don't know.  I keep second guessing things...if I did this, if I did that...I don't know.  I can't always fix things and this feeling of helplessness is overwhelming.

The worst part of this is that I tried to dig a grave in the yard for her and the ground is so frozen I couldn't do it.  I had to wrap her up, put her in a box, and put her in the trash can in the back yard.  Like garbage.

I could just die right now.

Poopless Cookie

My sweet Cookie...when I came home she was a different kitty.  She had lost a lot of weight...and she was very lethargic and she looked like she hadn't cleaned her fur in a few days.  Poor baby!  She was traumatized by my absence. 

There is something else happening now as well.  She has stopped pooping, and, as of yesterday, stopped eating.  Today we are off to the vet to see what can be done.  She is 15 years old and has never been sick a day in her life.  I know that chronic constipation is a problem in older cats...I am just hoping that it is nothing more.

Home at Last!

Stepping off the plane in Boston Tuesday afternoon felt so strange. Surreal, even. The terminal was virtually empty, which for Logan, is unusual. The plane was 90 minutes late, which wasn't too bad because we were delayed for 3 hours in Heathrow.

Mom was waiting for me at the Peter Pan bus terminal in Providence. She had been waiting for 2 hours, poor dear! I had told her to pick me up at 4. By the time I got to a phone to let her know I was running late, she had already left the house, so she was forced to sit and wait for me. It was a tearful reunion and I was happy to finally begin the last leg of my journey. Home. At. Last.