We’re really looking forward to Super Sunday this afternoon at the cabin at 3pm. Donna and Bevan are in charge, and the food will be stupendous, like always. Totally unpredictable, but stupendous. The new play yard is totally put together, except for the roof over the clubhouse, so kids will be able to try out the swings (including the baby swing) and the slide. If anybody has extra energy and muscle, they can help Dad heave up the roof. It’s been anchored down with the anchors Lifetime provided, but we’ll have to watch kids swinging to see if we need more to keep it from tipping over.
We’re tentatively planning a campfire here at our house a week from tonight, and we’ll roast hot dogs and make smores. It’s Labor Day weekend, so we’ve gotta celebrate. It all depends on the weather and the wind, however, so I’ll let you know for sure in my letter next Sunday.
I’ve finally finished round 4 of my chemo, so I can start feeling better now. Every round brings some new symptom, and this time my fingers swelled up and the skin started peeling off. It’s called Hand-Foot syndrome, only I wasn’t lucky enough to have it on my feet. The treatment is that you rub your hands with “Udderly smooth creme,” which comes in a container decorated like a cow. You also wear nitrile gloves most of the time. It’s already working on my hands, so they’re not as scary as before. Next Friday I’m having another CT scan which will show how much my tumors have shrunk. I know they have, because I’m breathing so well now. Even the smoke from the California fires isn’t making me gasp.
We’ve been putting Scout’s dry cat foot in the garage recently, since he’s been banished from the house, and he has an eating partner now–the raccoon–who eats way more than an average cat. We’re going to try to mount one of our automatic superfeeders high on the garage wall, and have it go off two or three times a day, with a pre-apportioned amount of food. If Scout can learn the times, he can beat the raccoon. If the raccoon turns out to be smarter, Scout will have to catch more mice for his protein. Dad thinks the raccoon lives up the street at our neighbors,’ the Butlers, so we might try talking to them about keeping their pet caged up. Or not. It is what it is.
I spent some birthday money on new toys: an 8' stepladder and a tree lopper that has a mini chainsaw up on the end. You use it to trim trees way up high, and since our trees are getting taller, I have plans for it. Right now my arms are too weak to use it, but it’ll be fun down the road. Onward and upward.
Lots of love, Mom