A Sad Day

Last night, our dog Roscoe passed away peacefully in his sleep. I found him this morning, lying on the basement floor. I thought he was sleeping soundly, but... He was gone.

As soon as I found Roscoe, I called Matt. Matt came right home and took care of everything. I'm so glad he was here. I don't know what I would have done without him.


Even though Roscoe was twelve years old, it still took me completely by surprise. Roscoe had such a good week. He was just starting to settle in to the new place. He had the new layout figured out, and the dog door mastered. He had been going on walks with us around the neighborhood, was enjoying sunning himself on the deck, and had been working on a new rawhide bone. He had such a good week. There wasn't any sign at all of what was going to happen this morning. I really didn't see it coming. None of us did.

Frankie seems to be handling the news pretty well. She's sad, of course. Roscoe had just started sleeping in her room, and she had just begun to take on some dog-related responsibilities like holding his leash during our walks and fixing his dinner. I think in a lot of ways Frankie was closer to Roscoe than she was to Milton. So, my guess is that his death is going to affect her more strongly. Time will tell.

Me? I'm really sad. But I'm also thankful that Roscoe didn't have to go through what Milton did. I suppose the way he died is the best way possible... Quietly in his sleep, no suffering. As time passses, that will comfort me more and more. Right now, though, I'm just overwhelmed at how quiet and empty the house seems.

The unpacking continues

I was gone from the blog world for a few days, and off on a weekend jaunt to San Francisco. Lisa was presenting at a conference there, and took me along as her "plus one." We had it all planned long before we had our house on the market, and the trip just happened to fall in the middle of all of the moving madness.

At first, I wasn't sure if I wanted to go. It was tough leaving the new house, the family, and all of those unpacked boxes behind. I'm really glad I went, though. It was a great trip. I'd never seen San Francisco before, and am so glad that I got a chance to tour the city. Lisa and I saw Alcatraz, took a tour bus around the city, drove over the Golden Gate bridge, walked and wandered for miles, spent an afternoon at the Modern Art Museum, and ate some truly fantastic meals. Lisa and I even caught a really teriffic female impersonation show on Saturday night. Here's the fabulous Miss Viki in action:

After all that fun, adventure, and city walking, I came home pretty exhausted. There's still so much to do, but I've been pretty lazy the last two days. Slowly but surely, though, it's starting to come together.

I really do love the house. And the neighborhood is fantastic, too. Several sets of neighbors have come by the house with brownies and words of welcome, and have made us feel right at home. Frankie and I even went over to a party last night at our neighbor's house two doors down for Dutch Mardi Gras. There was singing, pinata smashing, and Dutch food. Most of the neighborhood kids are teenagers, but they were very sweet to Frankie, showing her around the party and playing games with her. She even got first swing at the pinata.

The new neighborhood is a stark switch from the old neighborhood. I have to say, I like it here much better. I don't miss the Meldrum house at all. In fact, it amazes me that we were able to live in that tiny house on Meldrum as long as we did. I definitely won't miss the 3am fireworks displays outside my bedroom window. Everyone on Knollwood so far seems very kind and thoughtful. I forgot that was even a possibility.

What the...?

I was just getting ready for bed, and a CAT ran right past Roscoe, down the hallway into Matt's office. Since we don't actually own a cat, I screamed like a little girl when it popped out and ran toward me. My first thought was: GIANT MOUSE. My second thought was, crap... that's a cat. Hope Roscoe doesn't eat it.

Instead of running for the cat, I ran for Roscoe and grabbed him so he wouldn't go after the invader. Weirdly, Roscoe seemed totally nonplussed by the whole drama. I think he was sleeping, and didn't actually see the cat. Or, he's just too old to care.

Once I secured Roscoe, I went looking for the cat. So far, no luck. He's either escaped back outside, or is hiding somewhere in the house, pooping in corners and waiting to jump out and scare the living daylights out of me.

I wonder.... Did the people that used to live here leave their cat behind? I hope not.

I'm going to try to go to sleep now, but I half expect to be woken up by a large orange cat leaping onto my chest.

Not ideal sleeping conditions, that's for sure.

Settling In

I can't believe it's been five days since we moved out of our Meldrum house. The last few days have been such a whirlwind of activity, time has sort of lost all meaning. I don't even really know what day it is... Life is a blur of boxes & bubble wrap.

All is well, though. The move went really smoothly, thanks to the help of Jo, Jim, Mark, Lisa, Aunt Di, Mike, and Erin. I really can't imagine how we would have done it all without them. They collectively provided cleaning and babysitting services, moving & heavy lifting, construction and building expertise, bed and breakfast, decorating advice, moral support, and endless other fabulous helping hands.

They rock. I am forever in their debt.

I should also say that Matt is a real moving dynamo. It's his superpower, apparently. One that he likely inherited from his father. I couldn't believe how quickly and efficiently Matt, Jim, and Dovey got the truck loaded and unloaded. It was a thing of beauty. I barely had to lift a thing. I really lucked out.

The house is starting to look more and more put together. We have the living room and Matt's office pretty much finished, and all of the other rooms are in various states of disaray. But it's feeling more and more like home. I love the new neighborhood, and the view of the mountains from the back of the house is absoultely stunning. I can't stop staring out the windows.