In editing, I've come across the best name ever: van der Crabben. It's just begging to be used when teasing someone who's cranky: "Looks like Mr. van der Crabben didn't get enough sleep!" Or "Watch out for Baroness van der Crabben today!"

I think what I'm missing is the plans I had in my head to hang out with him as he became an old man.

oh, how I know this feeling, sweetie! For example, I know that if/when I ever get married it will be incredibly bittersweet for me because no one would have been more happy for me than him.

{{ND}} I am so sorry. Love to you.

{{Shir}} All kinds of peace and love to you.

bonny, you go woman!

Go Bonny Go! Flow Bonny Flow! If you can do it, Zen can!! Life! Life! Gift of Life!! Rah!

:: flailing summersault with a perfect 4 point landing, pom poms all a flutter ::

Cheers for those who are giving the Gift of Life today, many wishes for a smooth process for you.

Thanks. I'm trying to take baby steps away from it, slowly.

Getting out of my clothes with his fur and blood was the first step last night. It took me 20 minutes to convince myself to do so.

Now I finished scrubbing most of his blood out of my carpet (we're talking about this carpet [link] , so you see where the problem is. Too much red as is). Later I'm gonna throw to the laundry the pajama with his smell.

Tomorrow/the day after tomorrow I'm gonna clean my room and replace the sheets on my bed, with his smell (he slept in my bed every now and then).

No matter how hard I try, I'm not gonna get rid of his fur in the next few months. Impossible. It's everywhere.

So, baby steps.

I'm also really glad we stayed with him till the very end. I petted him even when he was unconscious, and I think that if I didn't see him dead, I'd still think somewhere that he might be still alive. Because he fought to the last second, my guy, so there's a part of me thinking that he's not dead. And I'm glad that even with the having-to-climb-the-stairs-while-nearly-dying, he chose to start to end his life in my room. He always felt most comfortable here.

{{{{{{{{{{ Shir }}}}}}}}}}}

(not enough brackets in the world. tons of hugs for you)

I think what I'm missing is the plans I had in my head to hang out with him as he became an old man.

Me too, Drew, with a slight shift of pronouns. It's not ever easy, and it does sort of come in waves that you're helpless to evade. But the good memories come that way too, so I guess it works out. Ease of heart to you. To you too, lovely Vortex.

Bonny, best of luck! You're very courageous and tough, and much to be admired.

Oh Shir, bless your heart and your baby steps. Peace and courage to you and your very good heart.

On the me front...yeah, well.

I pounded iron like it was going out of style this week. Everything I put in my mouth was purposeful, it was either iron rich or iron friendly.

I can taste it in my mouth, and I smell like breakfast cereal.

Last week, my iron level was 10.5. Today? 10.6. The required number is 12.5.

I can't believe it. Seriously, IRON has been my middle name.

So. I'm going to continue eating for iron (but not like I have been because, frankly, I've been feeling pretty ookie with the overdosing) for the next 6 weeks and try again.

In the meanwhile, my support buddy and I are going to organize a neighborhood drive. It will be a challenge because I will be around the equipment that freaks me out and I will be responsible for helping others.

It's not the same, but I will make lemonade out of this no matter WHAT!

Thank you all so much for your good thoughts. I just need now to give in a way that is acceptable!