A few more miscellaneous latelies.

I picked up Bela's ashes from the vet a few days ago. Schmoobs was out of town, so it was up to me to go get him. All week since we had to put him down, I had been really eagerly anticipating getting his ashes so that I could feel like he was "back home" with us. But then when Schmoobs called me tell me that the vet's office had told him the ashes were ready, I just felt a little sick in the pit of my stomach. Maybe a little dread that it would all seem real. So I woke up early the next morning and spent some time psyching myself up for the visit to the vet's office. I wasn't dreading it, and I really wanted to go get Bela's ashes. But I just didn't want to cry at the vet anymore.

Anyway, when I got there, it was early and nobody was in the lobby. I waited a few minutes and then finally the receptionist came out, surprised to see somebody there. She smiled and asked how I could be helped. *deep breath* "I'm here to pick up our cat's ashes. Bela." And then my voice started wobbling and I started tearing up. The nice thing about people who work at vets, though, is that they are all very empathetic to this sort of thing. Anyway, she went and got Bela's ashes, which were in a pouch, kept inside this pretty wooden box, and wrapped in a big velvet case. I (Schmoobs) paid the lady and I went back to the car to sit with the ashes for a while. This sounds weird, but just having the box sitting on my lap gave me some comfort. I'm totally going to be the crazy lady who talks to a box of ashes once in a while when nobody is looking. Anyway, before I drove away, I looked to see what else was inside the velvet case and they had included a stone that had Bela's pawprint on it. That immediately started the tears again. Happy tears, though, I think. For the most part. It was a nice touch.  

I also found this glass tea candle holder the same day. How could I not get it? And I placed a picture of Schmoobs and me so that we would always be right next to Bela.

The other night, I was lying down on the couch watching tv (and probably playing Candy Crush...) when some neighbors decided to start blowing up some fireworks or something. BB HATES FIREWORKS. July 4 is like the worst day of the year for BB by far. She spends the entire evening trembling and trying to crawl inside my skin, usually in the neck and chest area. Anyway, this night she planted herself right on my chest and wouldn't move. Poor sweet BB! July 4 is less than a week away...

I actually socialized last night! You remember Sarah and Maria from the cookout a few days ago? To the right is one more doctoral student wife, Mallory. GIRRRL'S NIIIIIGHT! (You have to say it like that exactly.) Anyway, it was fun. I learned something new about myself, which is that 2 martinis now make me feel queasy the next day. Urrrgh. Or maybe it was the ice cream I had after breakfast and the creamy lemon bar I had for dessert...