Log in

No account? Create an account

Windchimes & Lu

Okay, I got the windchime audio onto youtube, with some pix.  All on my phone.  Didn't even know I had iMovie on the phone.  :)


a day in the new life

Among other things today so far, I went to Meijer's's, where I got two plastic-rubber-type bins, one for dog stuff (I don't know whether I'll be using it with another dog, donating it, or leaving it for someone else to deal with when I'm dead) and one for Lula stuff.  I think the Lu stuff'll go in the pink one, and the dog stuff in the dark brown one with the woven effect/texture.  It's gonna be a while before they're filled and ready to be stored.  The crate will proably not be collapsed and stashed somewhere until past then.  I'm in no hurry.  But I'm getting after some of it nonetheless.

Maybe I'll keep things cleaner now that one of the more major of the mud-trackers and hair-shedders is no longer helping me mess up the place.

The people in front of me at the check-out line had this blown-up balloon among their purchases:

FullSizeRender (7).jpg

Isn't that a great balloon?  I love that balloon.  That's why I took a picture of it and showed it to you.  Lookit 'em, lovin' on Eeyore.

Gonna go meet peteralway for some cheap nosh in a few.  I'm poor again, with the debt from the vet bills, and the fact that people gave me money to help with that burden is helpful in focusing myself on thriftiness.  But I'm still gonna do the occasional small extravagance, like IHOP.  And I also had an idea, there in the Meijer's's, of a memorial tribute to the dog.  I'd walked in through the garden center and kinda thought maybe some yard sculpture thing might be a nice remembrance/monument, but then "nah"ed that idea pretty quick.  The whole idea of a memorial, in fact.  But right after that I saw some windchimes.

This year when the weather got nice Lula and I got in the habit of making our neighborhood walk head for a particular set of windchimes at a particular house a coupla blocks from here.  I just loved the sound of those windchimes.  I recorded them one day, standing out there with her.  I bet I can get that onto youtube somehow so's to share the sound with you.  There were birds too that day.

I wanna get some nice deep pleasing-tone windchimes to string up in a tree and honor Lu.  But I'm in no hurry on that, either.  I'll wait 'til I find the right windchimes.

broke down

Yeah, I broke down earlier tonight, for a while.  Kinda bad.  Swamped, overcome, it was like I was in the middle of a giant dark suffocating pool of all kinds of grief and loss and helplessness and pointlessness.  Not just now's, but all of the yesterdays's, and maybe the tomorrows's too.  It was--- I don't know how to say it other than in extreme understatement:  unpleasant. And it's such bad news, finding myself in that horrible place, that it's still there.  Like not only has it not gone away and it thus doesn't ever go away, since here it is again, but like it's a fundamental truth, or the fundamental truth, underlying everything.  I can't explain in words, or translate it into them.

It all started when I thought-felt, leaving the office, how the dog wasn't waiting for me at home, needing me to come take care of her.

There is a huge benefit to a selfish bent, satisfied to make yourself happy, able to do it, knowing what you want all on your own and gleefully going out and getting it, when you can, which I guess has to be a good bit of the time or you wouldn't be satisfied.

It sounds like I'm not making any sense, doesn't it.

I got talked down tonight.  And I ate pizza.  And I'm wiped out.

Typing about breaking down put together for me that the "breakdown" in "nervous breakdown" is from that verb construction, to break down, as in "I break down, you break down, she/he/it breaks down, We break down, you plural break down, they break down; I broke down, you broke down, she/he/it broke down, We broke down, you plural broke down, they broke down; I have broken down ... I had broken down ...  I will have broken down ... I will break down ... I am breaking down ... I was breaking down ... I have been breaking down ... I had been breaking down ... I will have been breaking down ... I will be breaking down ... "

I'll wear a bow tie next week.

That's my plan.

Tonight I have another social engagement to engage in and be engaged by.  Had one last night, which was pleasant.  I think "one day at a time", which you only really need to think when you're trying to think in bigger chunks than that.

Every (early) summer our town has a weeks-long festival that has lotsa indoor concerts and every-day (except Monday I think) outdoor stuff--- music, a few acts like acrobats, kid things, some food & drink, our local celebrity 3D chalk artist, and films when it gets dark & it's not Friday or Saturday.  This year, bad townie, I didn't even realize it'd started until it'd been going on for a good while.  I wonder whether wandering around there'll give me some bigger fraction of the steps in a day I was taking with the dog to walk.  I sure have tailed off dramatically.  Even when I deliberately go walk with the intention of getting some walking in.  It's just not the same ratcheting up on the movement front.

In other physiological news, I've been waking up with a sticky kinda dry mouth thing, many days recently.  I probably wonder more whether it's indicative of Something because I took my dog in to the vet cuzza her being unusually thirsty for a stretch of days, and boy did that turn out to be Something.  I'm due for a physical pretty soon, tho.  And way overdue for the dentist.  Sigh.  Like I literally sigh when I think about rallying to take care of myself those ways.  Or I did just then.

I think I've been sighing more these past few deep-breath days.  Maybe that causes dry mouth.  Which makes me sigh thinking about it.  And around and around we go.

I'm getting off that carousel now and getting back to work.  Will post a postcard, however.  In a gesture to everyday life.

Postcard of the Day

It *is* a postcard--- I made it at Touchnote and sent myself one, and scanned it.

Good dog.

We had a good life together, me and my girl.  We really did.

It's a lot to absorb, the experience of letting her go, the waves of realization of her being gone and all it means and all the ways I will be reckoning (with) it and dealing with it and living on in a world less good than it was with her in it.  There's also, I was telling somebody, the physiology of exhaustion and grief and the sudden release of the strain of the tension and extended uncertainty and holding-of-breath I've been in.  And there are moments when the cat's being sweet to me or, I dunno, I'm drinking some water and forget about it for some seconds, or just feel the dull stunned air-knocked-outta-me numbish stare.  And then there's when someone is kind to me, and I feel the acute smart of tenderness and may well bust out weeping all over again.

Thanks, lj people, for being nice to me.  Most recently sabotabby offered good wishes & said it must be agonizing, the waiting and not knowing.  And yeah, it was.  It's a different thing now.

Here's what I wrote on facebook:

I have the saddest news.

My dog Lula, after a grueling week+ stay in the doggie hospital, with lotsa back-and-forth between hopeful rallying times/signs and scary discouraging indications/times, took that big turn for the worse you hate hate hate but there it is, and I had to say goodbye to her this morning.

She's been my buddy, and it's so hard. So heavy. Suddenly having entered a whole nuther stage of life you don't want to be in. I'm gonna miss her forever, and I still love her, dead and all. I know all of you, including those who don't even like dogs, know what I'm talking about. Right? (Right.)

A few days ago some dear people started a fund to help me with part of her very high vet bills---I'll put the link here too in case you'd like to chip in. She really did have a fighting chance, and the folks at Michigan State are great. Sometimes it really looked like she might be recovering, and I dared hope.

My deepest thanks to everyone who contributed to the fund, or who still might, and to people being so very kind to me in general during this time. It's been so touching sometimes it's like I can barely stand it, on top of everything else. Maybe that doesn't make sense. I dunno. It's true. I'm so sad, and I appreciate you all so much.

I'm rarely on facebook anymore, so if you want to get in touch another means might be more efficient. I'm sure I'll be back here at some point. Meanwhile, everything sucks, and none of these emojis comes close.


People are being so kind.

My dog's still in the hospital.  Still acting perkier and perkier. She even ate for me yesterday (but hadn't for them yet by this morning).  Testing shows that her liver damage was unfortunately quite extensive, whatever it was that happened, and they're taking care of various things for her, with the aim now to get her stable enough that I can bring her home.  Steroids now, plus some attending to fluid in her body cavity (probably from a vessel-leaking thing that human alcoholics get).  How much life she has left in her, or will have if she gets to come home, I dunno; right now, however, there's definitely still life in her.  It was so good to see her wagging her tail a little, and so hard that she has to stay there and is still sick and may never come home, or may come home and be sick and/or not last long at all.  Whatever surviving and functioning cells there are in her liver that might recover & regenerate, it sure would be nice if they'll be enough to keep her going.  Long and short of it, the strain and dire feeling of a sick pet is how it is for me now, and may be how it will be for a while.  If she recovers enough and can stick around.

I found out by accident earlier today that some dear ones have started a go-fund-me type thing to help with the vet bills (which are crazy high, debtdebtdebtdebtdebt).  A coworker I had just told about the situation a little earlier went to hand me some money "for my fund" and I was like "What?" and after a little back-and-forth it came out that there has been secret plotting going on on my behalf, outta sympathy for the doggie-dog and me.  It's so touching it makes me wanna cry just thinking about it.

On my way home yesterday I stopped in an antique mall, mostly to try to get some exercise, walking around in there.  (Used Meijer's's the same way when I was back in town.)  Walking around among all the old things felt like being in a sort of cemetary of leftovers from the lives of dead people.  I mean, a number of the booths were, like, mostly the Hot Wheels collection somebody is apparently trying to sell off, or even weird original art

see back hereCollapse ), and there were lots of dog-related things I might not have noticed the extent of earlier

like this heartbreakerCollapse ), but mostly it felt dusty and sad and evocative of hundreds of now-over lives, and I had a hard time remembering what it felt like to get a kick out of wandering among old stuff like that, as I know I usedta, maybe being struck by how my grandmother used to have a [kitchen thing] like that, or something along those lines.

one moreCollapse )

Postcard of the Day


I am real sorry because you don’t write.  Stayed all night with June Sat. night.  Had a big time.  Everything doing here now.  Wish you were here but of course you’re enjoying yourself I know.  I would if I was in Lincoln.
Kid let me know by return mail if you want that watch at $10, I’ll throw in the gold fob for you.  I have another to sell.  Chance
Let me know soon.

deep breaths, driving carefully

one thing at a time

another vet call

Her liver function numbers have gotten worse.  Yet she's acting "perkier and feistier".  No appetite.  Transfusion now (help clotting ability) and maybe a steroid tomorrow (help inflammation, not good if it's infectious, but probably the call).  Not in pain.  Acts excited to see the resident and the technician, seems to recognize them now.

Resident calls her "very much in a gray area"--- clearly this means there could be very bad news in the not-distant future.  Yet she's still stable.  And she could still pull through.  Next bloodwork numbers tomorrow.  Biopsy info still won't be back for a while.  Student to call later today with another report.

Bert said his dog Tucker was up there for about two weeks once, and did recover from whatever that long-slog healing had been about--- they never did identify the cause.  I don't care if we never know the cause.  That's not the thing, of course, for me.

Bow Tie Wednesday

Why not.  I'm perverse.

This here bow tie is the one I learned to tie on, after carrying it around for years, when my colleague here at MR showed me how, one day almost five years ago.  So it's my back-to-basics tie.

This morning's dog report is that she's still with us, perkier, possibly having a side complication that isn't life-threatening, not ready to eat, and a good dog.  (Okay they didn't say that last part but it's true.)  I'm supposed to get a call later today with the latest, and the results of the most recent bloodwork.  I've been telling people out loud (not only things they probably aren't nearly as interested in as I am about the miraculous liver and its tricks but also) how superstitious I am about daring to think she might get better because some part of me really things that very act of hoping or letting in the idea that it may all be okay will in fact CAUSE the dog to decline.  I'm telling people because I need to hear it in the light of day and openness of sentences and articulated ideas in the attention and witness of my fellows in order to persuade myself, temporarily, that it really isn't true.

Go on and bring it out into the sun, sister Lisa.  Yank it from the suction of the muck, like in that Adrienne Rich poem*, and hand-over-hand it up here, into the air.  It's not to make it go away, per se.  It all deserves its glint of recognition.

*from the Twenty-One Love Poems:


     Your silence today is a pond where drowned things live
     I want to see raised dripping and brought into the sun.
     It’s not my own face I see there, but other faces,
     even your face at another age.
     Whatever’s lost there is needed by both of us ---
     a watch of old gold, a water-blurred fever chart,
     a key....  Even the silt and pebbles of the bottom
     deserve their glint of recognition.  I fear this silence,
     this inarticulate life.  I’m waiting
     for a wind that will gently open this sheeted water
     for once and show me what I can do
     for you, who have often made the unnameable
     nameable for others, even for me.

Hopey thinker


Postcard of the Day

(a feature involving a postcard on a day)

- - - - - - - - -

For another postcard thing, see
my old postcard poems tumblr or
its handy archive.

- - - - - - - - -

Many posts are friends-only; livejournal "friend" me and tell me who you are if you wanna read.


"What was once thought cannot be unthought."

-- Möbius, The Physicists


"The moment of change is the only poem."

-- Adrienne R.


Latest Month

June 2018


RSS Atom
Powered by LiveJournal.com
Designed by Tiffany Chow