Brightening my mood

I've had a case of the blahs lately. I thought it was because I'd had such a busy time there for a bit, with big events, and then I settled down to the ordinary--although today I met with a book club that I thoroughly enjoyed. A lively, wonderful group of women who were full of questions and weren't afraid to suggest what they saw as flaws in Skeleton in a Dead Space. On the whole, though, they were enthusiastic about the book, and those that read the second book said they thought Kelly was better in that one. Growing into your characters or letting your characters grow or whatever--it was nice to hear.
But this afternoon Jordan and I each had different agendas, and she said I was cross and curmudgeonly lately--why is it me, when she's determined to stick to her agenda, which was wine with the girl next door at whose house Jacob was playing. Anyway, we made nice, went over the recipes I wanted her to look at, and she went off to have wine. I declined because Sue was coming for wine shortly, and I figured it didn't become me to sip my way through the afternoon.
But I've also been put out with my oldest son because he planned a big family reunion for Memorial Day--and forgot to tell me. Oh, I knew it was a possibility that the New York Alters would come visit, but no one told me there were definite plans for them to come to Houston, not Fort Worth. My nose was out of joint, and I considered cutting him out of my will. Well, not really.
But Sue and I were talking about diet, and she said she gets crabby when she cuts out carbs--I haven't had bread since I overindulged when the Canterbury Choir boys were here. Sue ate a slice of peanut butter toast this morning and said she immediately felt better. Hmmm--something for me to think about.
I had a good visit with Sue. She's only a tiny bit older than my oldest, and she calls me her Fort Worth mom, but we are also good friends. So we talked about everything from kids to parents to food--you name it. I chide her about some things, and she's not afraid to tell me when I'm wrong. When she left I went off to the Grill to have my weekly meatloaf fix with the neighbors, most of whom had already finished their suppers, so I righteously ate only half my meatloaf and brought the other half home. But their conversation, along with Sue's took me out of my funk. If you will, it took me out of myself.
I have a routine doctor's appointment tomorrow, but I'm going to ask about carbs (honest, I've lost four lbs.).
Meantime I think I'll have peanut butter toast for breakfast.

Dogs and feet--not my best day

My foot surgery yesterday was so painless, I thought I was home free--no pain until I got up in the middle of the night and realized it dinged at me a bit. Today, it hurts to walk--not excruciating, just annoying. Aspirin doesn't seem to help, and I don't want anything stronger.

But last night my old dog, Scooby, kept collapsing when I tried to bring him in. He had no balance, and his legs, especially the back ones, kept giving out. I had to call the pet sitter to come take him to the vet this morning. When I woke at four, I couldn't go back to sleep--sure that the vet would say to put him down. She didn't--she said give it a day or two. She did say since both the dog and I were lame, it would be best if they kept him so we didn't trip each other--a sensible notion. Sometimes these things pass, and he did seem a bit better by the time I left the clinic. Scoob is lounging in the "luxury site" at the vet's, but the report this afternoon was "no better, no worse." I bet he'd rather be home in his own bed, which he loves.  They reported that when they took him out to pee this afternoon, they rigged a sling to keep his back end upright. I'm apprehensive about this. I thought Scooby was eleven-and-a-half, but it turns out I was a  year shy--he'll be thirteen in August. I'd been railing at the gods that he should have a couple of good years left. Now I'm somewhat mollified, but I still don't want to lose him.
Scoob is a gorgeous blue merle Australian shepherd. I got him at three-and-a-half from the Humane Society. He had been abused and has never lost some characteristics of that--the sweetest dog in the world tried serously to bite the vet tech today over rectal temperature-taking. Grabbing hold of his collar scares him, and I have to keep him by me because his house manners are not reliable if I'm not watching. But he has a way of looking at me with adoration that just breaks my heart. This morning, when I was getting ready to leave the clinic, he clearly didn't want to leave my side. Made me teary. We do get so invested in our animals.
Sophie, the puppy who jumps on Scoob's rear end and doesn't help matters at all, doesn't seem to miss him as much as I thought she would. Played outside by herself quite happily for a good portion of the day and is now asleep by me.
My day got a lot better when my brother came to get me for lunch, with his wife and mother-in-law in tow. We met Cindy's sister and her significant other at Carshon's and had a high old time, mostly planning an Alter/Peckham/Azuma reunion for May. Aunt Patty is the one who has taken that particular bull by the horns and done a great job of organizing people, etc. (I'm resisting mixed metaphors or I'd talk about herding cats, which is what getting all those people to agree on a date amounts to.) Today we decided a scavenger hunt for the kids would be great fun--they will range in age from almost two to thirteen. Lots of laughter lifted me out of the doldrums, and tonight I look forward to dinner with my neighbors at the Old Neighborhood Grill.
So, bad, distrubing things, even minor pain, aside, I am blessed with family and friends and oh so grateful.