Happy real Halloween, everybody. I know that the trick-or-treating and trunk-or-treating are over, but it’s still Oct. 31, and supposedly the spookiest day of the year. Dad and I celebrated yesterday by burying a cat.
Yep, it was the airport cat. John found out that it was definitely the cat that an older guy, Tom, had been feeding. But it got very sick, so the man had it put to sleep. Then, that same day, the man was suddenly taken to a care center, where he’s been ever since. And the cat was left in the freezer at the airport. John asked if we would give it a proper burial, and of course we said yes. I have a special place out in our meadow area where Xena and another unknown cat are buried. We dug the hole while Scout, Sonia, and Harley (the neighbors’ Alaskan husky) watched. I took the cat out of its coffin and wrapped it in cloth, so we wouldn’t have to dig such a big hole. We hummed “Taps” while we shoveled the dirt back in, and we put the clumps of grass back on top. One cat well buried.
Thanks again to John and Heather for that wonderful Super Sunday last week. The food was great and the hot tub was a hit. Our next Super Sunday won’t be until January, because Thanksgiving and Christmas both fall near the fourth Sunday, and besides, there’s always a lot going on. We’ll all see each other at the cousins’ gift exchange, and probably other times, too.
For Thanksgiving, Dad and I will be hosting at the cabin. I’ll do the turkey, along with pumpkin and chocolate pies, and I’ll call around to see who will be joining us, and what you can bring. So far Tom’s family has said they’ll be there. It’s Vanessa’s family’s turn to go to the Suttons, but they’ll be at the cabin on Monday and Tuesday of that week, and I think Nora’s family (or most of them) will be there at the same time. At any rate we’re set up to have lots of fun for both holidays. I’ll probably be starting chemo again around the last week in November, but I’m going to try to time it so my worst days will miss Thanksgiving and Christmas.
Messiah practice starts next week, November 7, and continues every Sunday night until we put it on December 11 and 12. That means Dad and I will be gone for six consecutive Sunday nights, so we won’t be able to have our usual wild sprees. (Cry, cry.) Hopefully lots of you can come to the sing-in on the 12th, and maybe we can talk Tom and Kim into hosting an after-party, like they’ve done before. I love the Messiah for putting me in the Christmas spirit every year. (Except last year, when it was cancelled because of covid.)
My toe amputation is next Friday. I’m looking forward to it so I can wear ordinary shoes again. Mostly I’ve been wearing slippers or my moon boots. And now my feet will match each other.
Life’s good. Love to all of you. Mom