Forty-Four

A busy-ish day here in Little Rhody.

Anya had her annual appointment at the veterinarian, the Doc said she looks good for an old lady. Anya is in her 19th year, still pretty spry, still pretty active. But the Doc was a little concerned with her weight, she's down a couple of ounces since last year, for a small cat, that can be a big deal. So we shall await the results of the blood work, something both cats have been getting since they became senior cats.

I'm a bit concerned, Sasha's blood work results still ring in the corridors of my mind, "early stages of kidney disease." Prayers for Anya's continued good health would be appreciated.

Wednesday marked the anniversary of The Missus Herself and Your Humble Scribe getting hitched forty-four years ago. Seems like an awful long time ago, then again, our first month in Germany was "only" thirty years ago.

Dang, time flies when you're having fun.

Sat down to write another installment of the war in Poland, stopped after about an hour, too much on my mind tonight to give you the quality you deserve, and sometimes get.

The Missus Herself and Your Humble Scribe went to a late lunch/early dinner at a local favorite eatery (The Old Grist Mill Tavern - for those of you from these parts) after dropping off Anya at home. Our lovely kitty was indicating that she had had quite enough time in cars for one day, thank you very much, so we took her home, gave her some treats, and headed out to eat.

We both went with the New York sirloin and did some damage to the salad bar as well. I had a Stella Artois to celebrate the still-lingering Christmas season (never goes away in my heart). The meal, and the company of course, was superb.

Full and wanting to get home before the forecast wind and rain arrives, we headed out. It's a short drive (about 12 miles) but it was nice to be out and about. I spent far too much time in a computer lab last week after being a free man for three weeks.

Like I said, I sat down to write, looked over at my window (picture above) and decided to call it a night. Fridays off are a wonderful thing.

So you get this, random mumblings and musings. I had such a fine day, I didn't see myself writing about desperate battle. Sorry.

Expect more on Sunday.

Battle that is.