Cleaning Closets

It's amazing to me, even though rationally I am aware that I do this routinely, how much "stuff" accumulates in closets. One project I asked for during my convalescence/rehab time was to clean out the "Fibber McGee and Molly" closet in my room. Once upon a time it was my computer station when I had a wonderful old Mac. As the Mac died and went away, the desk was changed into a closet (with a door) and began to accumulate things. It had a bookshelf with books, computer programs, and stationery in the original scheme of things, but the scheme was forgotten and many other things were stashed. Among the things found: a favorite solitare game for the Mac (that will not go on any of the current machines); a boxful of assorted gift bags; and a mysterious $75 in cash that no one knows how or why it got stashed.

And through it all, I am reminded of all the things we accumulate and don't really need. I will not miss the stacks of books, the unused cloth napkins, or the pieces of wrapping paper. I tend to think...oh I'll use those someday, and "someday" just doesn't happen. So they go off to the second-hand bookstore, Goodwill, or recycling, and hopefully will find a more appropriate home.

Surgery progress

Two weeks since my surgery, I am walking without the walker part of the time, my incision site is not terribly painful, the bruising from the surgery is going away, so progress is being made. My range of motion isn't what it needs to be, but it is progressing. My most difficult thing to deal with is that I have a cramp or strain around my hip on that side, and I can't sit comfortably for any length of time. Hopefully that will get resolved soon. Tomorrow I will lose the staples, and my knee will no longer look like a zipper without a pull.

Good bye Sweet Noodle

A change I had been dreading is the passing of our 14-years-old cat, Noodle. I had bee trying to get him well for over 8 months, but he continually lost weight, to the point where he weighed less than 25% of his former weight. He died before I came home from the hospital. He was an intelligent cat, probably the smartest I have ever had. Daddy called him the "big foot cat", since he had seven toes on his front feet. Since I am still recuperating I know his loss hasn't really hit me completely, but I do know there is a noodle-sized hole in the cat population here.