Kincaid is looking better today. I'm relieved. He ate a good amount of food this afternoon and has not yet gotten sick. We got his medication into him again (no easy task) and all looks good. He looked awful yesterday at this time, so I'm really glad to see him pick up. He's lost a lot of weight -- which isn't all bad.
With that worry out of the way, I think I would like to have a nice, fun Christmas, but I get the feeling that this isn't the year to push my luck and do anything. It hasn't been a bad year, mind you. I've had a lot of fun and done a lot of good writing. I had a great time on our anniversary, and got an entire new novel out of it. (grin) But it has been a frustrating year in respect to the things I had planned. From my birthday through the conventions (including one I had planned to attend for YEARS), very little has worked out. None of it was all that tragic, just frustrating. I wanted to see the ocean again, but I'm sure a convention will turn back up on the West Coast again, after all. I really wanted to see my friends, but most of them will be at other conventions. I want to go to the mountains again, but then that's a pretty standard one for me. I could go this weekend, and I'd say I want to go to the mountains two days after I'm back. (grin) Of course I'm the same way about deserts and oceans, it's just that they're farther away.
There are years when things just don't work out for that kind of stuff, and there's nothing that can be done about it. I've made a lot of the problem myself by not having a real job, so I can't complain. But it leaves me here, right before Christmas, thinking I ought to just enjoy things the way they are -- I'm having a great time watching the shows! -- and call it good. I did write a teddy bear poem, but I didn't print it out for mailing -- just finally wrote it a couple days ago. I have not put out any decorations. I'd have to clean first, and my back has been so miserable, that even standing and doing the dishes hurts. I had to go back to bed this afternoon after I changed the kitty litter because it hurt so bad. But I do have to clean sometime anyway. (grin)
But here is the problem. I love Christmas trees -- just the scent of them alone makes me happy. But... well, funds have been tight this year, and every time I think about the tree, I think that it would be a waste of money. Russ's checks haven't come in yet, but I did get one recently and have been holding on to it. I said for Christmas, but now... Maybe a little one. Really, a nice little one a couple feet high that wouldn't be a pain to deal with, and shouldn't cost a lot. I wonder if I could find one tomorrow. Probably not, and it's not a big deal. I've been going back and forth on this since the first, and if I can't make up my mind yet, then it's obviously not that important.
Russ leaves for New York on Thursday. He should be back on Sunday. It's a quick trip this time, at least (they usually run from a week to ten days) and it comes at a good time because his other regular work won't pick up again until after Christmas. I have no set plans for the time he's gone, except to get more writing done, but nothing surprising there. Maybe I'll even do a little of that cleaning stuff.
They're saying we might get a little snow later today. That wouldn't be bad. It's kind of dull brown around here right now, and I think a nice snow would make things a bit prettier. Not that I'd notice a lot since I rarely leave my office, but still...
Okay, enough rambling. Time to go take a bath and think out a scene to one of the stories.