Poor Timing

Last week:

It was a beautiful day yesterday. My mother and brother came out for lunch in the afternoon, subs and pizza on the front patio. It's lovely out there in the shade of the porch with the hummingbirds coming to the feeder from time to time and the sound of the pond waterfall. The pond is getting overgrown, though we have some lovely white irises and orange irises blooming and miniature cattails and goldenrod coming up. (I'd love to thin out the plants so that the birds can come down and bathe and drink, but that is a big project, so we'll end up hiring someone to do it.) We had a nice lunch and time to chat, which was good. But unfortunately as they were preparing to leave, my brother cut his hand on a jagged bit of metal on our table as he was getting up. That was not good.

I had taken an antihistamine during lunch because I was really congested from sitting outside, so after everyone was gone, I felt pretty drowsy. After we cleaned up a bit, I ended up lying down for a nap that basically lasted until bedtime. (I've been falling asleep to episodes of Reba McEntire's old show Reba. I like Reba, but man, that is some extensive plastic surgery, like Joan Rivers level of plastic surgery.)

We've had ups and downs since Chancey has been gone. Yesterday was a down, as we were cleaning for company and I started to cry, remembering how much Chance loved when company came over and how much he liked my mother. (I'm tearing up now.) Even when he was very sick, he still could muster some joy at company and he liked to sleep near us on the patio as we had lunch. It's so hard to miss that dumb dog. 

The past week was medical appointments: A first visit to the urologist and the sleep study that wasn't. (It was rescheduled for June.) This week is the endocrinologist on Thursday. Next month is dental surgery.