Wednesday, 9 December 2009

Nothing to See Here, Folks

Well, friends, not a lot has changed since we last met. I am still locked inside the Peaceable with a troupe of semi-domesticated critters. At least one of us is writing, and having a grand old time doing it. Patrick is still in Salamanca, despite his appeals to me to come there and let him go home.

Paddy has some sort of sciatica-type painful nerve thing going on in one leg. He is usually a game sort of fellow, and when he volunteered to go to Salamanca in November he was feeling fine. But pain makes Paddy into a different person. A not-nice person. I will not elaborate here, but it ain´t pretty.

Paddy wants to come home. I would go and take his place, so he can come back here and suffer just like he is there, but with Tim´s snout laid across his knee. But the Stars mitigate against that.

The star this week is John Murphy O´Pusquat, the broken kitty who now is on the mend. I took Murphy back to the University of Leon Veterinary Hospital on Monday. They shot new X-rays of his legs and let me ooh and aah at the inner workings of all these awkward wires and wands they left sticking out of him over the past month. Then they emailed the images off to another vet school in Italy.

It seems Murphy´s surgeon is presenting a symposium there on how to fix just this kind of busted cat, and Murphy´s inner workings are being screened internationally. We´re supposed to hear soon just what this wanderous cat doctor thinks of Murph´s healing process, and when/if he can remove the splints and thus return to Murph his grace and dignity.  If I don´t hear anything by tomorrow, I will start making phone calls.

And this is why I cannot go to Salamanca, and send my Patrick home. Only I can drive the car that takes the cat to the vet. We can, evidently, only deal with one bad leg at a time. Got that?

And so I stay here in Moratinos and ponder how to use-up three dozen eggs. I got a H1N1 shot (and the aches and listlessness that followed). I think a lot. I wonder if this writing business is just self-gratification, if this story is worth all this work, if this book thing is just another monumental waste of time. But mostly I write. Which is what I love best once I get started.

Other than that, I am proud of myself in little ways. I managed to move our internet cable from the freezing-cold lower kitchen up to the main house. Now I can sit in the living room and write blogs and listen to the chickens pecking at the window. I can kick a dog carcass out of the way and warm my feet near the fire and enjoy a glass of lovely Vino Virtud.

Sometimes, if I set up the wires just right, and the stars are properly aligned, the internet even works.  

I wish there was something more profound or moving to share, but this is all there is, folks. Nothing to see here. Not yet.


Jim said...

What you write sounds real which follows closely is next after profound and moving in significance.

Anonymous said...

Re those eggs - meringues if you can get the oven cool enough, and lemon curd with the yolks, which you can give to your neighbours as Christmas presents! (or to the vet surgeon?)

I know what you mean about only coping with one poorly leg at a time. We're having a bit of that here, only not legs but general fragility.

Thank you for writing.

God bless,

Kiwi Nomad 2008 said...

There is plenty to see where you are. I could happily spend a few hours poking around, taking photos in odd little corners of the garden and nearby!!! But maybe not in the depths of winter.... unless I brought my thickest clothes....

Timecheck said...

Well, I have no philosophical insight, but chile egg puff will make a big dent in those eggs

claire bangasser said...

What is nice, Reb, is that I can imagine sitting in your living room and watching you write happily your blog and everything else, while the chickens are picking at the window.
I like the quiet. I can even slip outside for a little while and walk silently on the Camino real. What a treat...
Sending Paddy energy and healing to his sciatica nerve.
Don't forget to tell your cat is that he is an international medical star by now :-)

sagalouts said...

Practice juggling

Anonymous said...

3 dozen eggs???

FLAN ! ! !