The Fly and other Creatures

Last night while we were watching a DVD, we kept getting dive-bombed by The Fly. I say The Fly because there seems to be just one, and with an entire house to buzz around in he/she insists on hovering wherever one of us is sitting. We tried fly swatting without success, and this morning The Fly was still in possession of the inside airways of The Lodge.

Tom's solution was to pack and leave. Well, he was leaving anyway for Chicago. Today is his 60th birthday, which he had forgotten (so he claims) until I wished him a Happy Same, and then Helen called to wish him Same as he was pulling out of the drive, having taken six or seven attempts to actually get out the door without having to come back for something. He told her, as he had told me, that he didn't want anyone to remember because they might feel obligated to do something for him. He told me that his family does not do things like Father's Day or birthdays. I notice that what he means by that is they don't do his birthday, etc. because he doesn't like to be made a fuss over. Whatever. He always remembers everyone else's birthday, including mine, although I have to admit he sometimes remembers after it is past. [He can't help remembering mine on time, since I get cards and things from other people and he picks up the mail.]

The cats realized something was afoot because Tom was running around packing, and any incipient change in their lives makes them restless. There was more than the usual let-me-in-let-me-out action at the back door. Fortunately he will only be gone today and tomorrow, and I will be here most of today. The thing that really seems to throw them off balance is when no one is around much during the day. Since they sleep most of the day, I am not sure how they know this, but they do. They deal with it by being clingy and demanding the rest of the evening.

[I know, I know. Tell you something I haven't griped about before. Sometimes I am like an old 8-track tape: push a certain button and you have to listen to the whole song, whether you want to or not.]

The change of seasons and the sudden change of temperature brought on some painful joint episodes, and since I couldn't drink Granny's Rheumatiz Medicine even if I had some, I had to rely on other things. This morning I seem to have weathered the worst of it, but the last few days I have not been up to snuff. Maybe all the walking -- not really all that much -- at Wo Zha Wa yesterday was a mistake. Tom had a cold coming on, and there is nothing grouchier than two old coots who aren't feeling well. It's probably just as well he left town for a bit.