1. The vet was delighted that Snalbert gained 1-1/2 pounds in the past few months He had grown skinny from chronic renal failure, but he feels and looks like a solid cat again. Since even a few ounces would have been good news, this is worth celebrating. Here's hoping he and Snicky also have good blood and urine test results; we'll know tomorrow. (The astronomical vet bill? Not such good news. But I keep reminding myself that having cats is still much cheaper than raising kids. I also believe that Possum will be the first cat to get a full scholarship to Swarthmore.)
2. The professional "voice" who is narrating my contemporary art scripts praised them in the recording studio today, according to my boss, who sent me a wonderful note. She said I know how to write for "the ear," and this is rare. She used to produce scripts and train scriptwriters for a major company in recorded-tour business, so it's an honor to hear this from an expert. I worked hard on those buggers all summer long. Phew.
3. Someone tried to use my lost/stolen credit card, and it turned out to be... me. I ordered a prescription online and forgot the card was canceled. So I doubt it was pilfered from my pocket; I'd much rather have lost it (and my T pass) absent-mindedly. Or to paraphrase my husband's favorite recitation, The Hare Who Lost His Spectacles (Jethro Tull), "perhaps I ate them, thinking they were a carrot."
4. I found classic ballet flats that possibly, just possibly, won't kill me even if I walk a few miles in them. They're plain, flexible, and have a bit of arch support. (Why do all ballet flats have buckles, or jeweled brooches, or big bows, or quilted toes, or some other doodad messing up the toe? Simple is better.) I ordered these in pewter and navy suede (20% off) from J. Crew:
5. I'm just starting the latest Donna Leon novel, Drawing Conclusions, her 20th book featuring the Venetian police commissario Guido Brunetti. I've read them all, and I never read crime stories or thrillers. Starting the first chapter feels like sitting down with the fiction equivalent of a box of Godiva truffles. I'm slightly dazed from anticipation of all the good things that are sure to come, not least of which are Leon's insider perspectives on daily life in Venice. I can't wait to stop writing this and get back to it.
6. Next week, we're going back to Maine. Trips to Maine are better than Christmas, and that means they're better than anything.
7. A large envelope from France arrived today. It looks like we might be going back to Avignon in November for another conference. Fingers crossed that we can really go and that I won't become a wretched mess during the flight this time. I'd like to return to the romantic Rue des Teinturiers:
Even a tanking stock market, which I invested in yesterday, can't ruin the promise of a fat old cat, a little praise, a new Donna Leon novel, and Avignon.