A Successful Appointment And Other Meanderings

Mr. Moon spread mulch in the garden today and made me some rows to plant. He makes the rows because as he actually said today, "Otherwise they won't look right." 
This was said as a joke but we all know that the man cannot abide crooked, wandering rows and if I make them, they will be crooked, wandering rows. I am happy for him to make them. And after he laid them out, I got on my knees in the dirt again and planted the tiny seeds of Tom Thumb butterhead lettuce, romaine lettuce, rainbow chard, and two types of kale. I hope to finish tomorrow, getting in all the rest of the lettuces and arugula and collard and mustard greens, beets, and carrots. Is that all? Maybe. 

And even though I don't think I even spent an hour in the garden this afternoon, it is almost miraculous how much better I feel about life in general. 

I went back to Quest this morning. My appointment was at 10:40 and all went well. They send you a link to click on when you get there to add your name to the list. The place was far more crowded today than it was yesterday and it seemed like they were calling people back a lot more slowly than they were yesterday. I chose a seat as far away as possible from the continually running screen on the wall that tells everyone how blood work can detect heart problems and other medical things that I do not want to talk about or hear about at all. The whole room is as welcoming and comfortable as the holding area in the county jail (or at least what I would imagine the holding area at the county jail is like) and people do not really make eye-contact or talk to each other but today there was someone behind me who was whistling in a low, tuneless, constant manner. I desperately wanted to turn around and see who was doing it but that just seemed rude. And then to add to that, every few minutes someone else would say, "Shut up!" pretty loudly, and then, someone started moaning. 
Everyone in the room just acted like nothing was happening and I followed suit. 
I got called back after about twenty minutes so thank god for that. The phlebotomist told me her name was "Daisy" and I said, "Huh! I just finished reading a book with a character named Daisy. She was really sweet."
"Well that's not me," this Daisy said, organizing her vials and labels. 
"I think you and I would get along just fine," I said. "I'm sweet sometimes but other times...I am not. Sometimes it's just not appropriate to be sweet."
"You got that right!" she said. "I don't care what people say."
I liked Daisy. 
She popped that purple strap of rubber around my upper arm and I showed her the vein I call "The Phlebotomist's Delight" and when she slipped the needle in I literally did not feel it. So that was easy. Then came the peeing in the cup and I was free to go.

I hear that I can check the results of my tests online but I will tell you this- NO.

I will not be doing this. I am sure that if one thing looked wonky I would go into such deep and profound anxiety that no amount of gardening or Ativan could help me and it would last until my appointment next week with the doctor. So hell no. If I'm dying, let me remain ignorant for as long as I can. I know this is a stupid attitude but it is the one I have and if you've ever experienced severe anxiety you may understand. 

I went to breakfast after my blood draw to a pretty darn nice place. It's not fancy but it's not the Waffle House either. I would gladly have gone to the Waffle House but I wanted to go to Goodwill after I ate and this restaurant was on the way there. I have to tell you that every now and then it is such a lovely thing to be taken to a table by a host, seated, asked what you want to drink, being brought that, deciding what you want from a menu, ordering it, and then being served delicious foods. This breakfast was delicious and I'm certain it contained all of my caloric needs for the next two days as it involved a croissant and hollandaise sauce. So I sat there and read my New Yorker magazine and ate that good breakfast and just enjoyed the hell out of it. 

Then I went on to Goodwill where I didn't find much of anything that I wanted. I got a sort of very light loose sweater garment that can drape comfortably over my ever-expanding physical self. It's soft. The sweater-garment, not my ever-expanding physical self but come to think of it...

So that was that and I came home and went to work in the garden. Look who came to help me. 

Our darling little Scarface. 

I have to tell you that Maurice is becoming more and more relaxed as the days go by since Jack has gone missing. She is playing with cat toys. She is asking for treats with much more authority, confident in the knowledge that Jack will not sneak up and steal them from her. She is letting us pet her for a little longer without drawing blood. She is walking around the house with more temerity, not having to fear an ambush at any moment. 

She is probably incredibly glad that her faux brother is gone. 
No grieving for her! 

Oh, Maurice. I understand. Jack has certainly not added to her quality of life in all the years he's been here, despite our love for him. 

So that's the feline update from here and no, we have not seen any hint of our boy and I miss him, even as I understand why Maurice certainly does not. 

Life goes on, even after it doesn't, I guess. Or something like that. 

Love...Ms. Moon