Simon's surgery

Poor Simon. He had his dental surgery this morning. Apparently they decided to remove most of the poor fellow's teeth. He has to spend the night at the vet's and won't be able to come home until noonish tomorrow. I've been really worried about him. They supposedly had to shave an area on his neck to put a pain patch on him, so he must be hurting.

I've had an interesting week. I finally got to look at that apartment, and though it's tiny, I've agreed to take it. Rental begins in May, so I may have to rent it all summer without living there until late August. My husband and I agreed that we'll have some clue about the housing market by the end of next year, so we hope by then to be able to sell this house and move closer to Big Rapids.

Anyway, there are nine studio apartments in the old house. Number 8 is at the back of the building on the ground floor. It shares a little porch with Number 9. The one and only door into the apartment has a window in it, with blinds over it. There are two locks on the door, a regular and a deadbolt. Once inside, one is in the kitchen/ dining area. To the left, there's a gas stove and regular-sized refrigerator. The sink is just a little bar sink. No dishwasher. A few cabinets. This area is long and narrow, maybe six feet wide by sixteen feet long. To the right of the door is the dining area. A large metal storage rack comes with the apartment, but I don't see myself needing it. I'm hoping to be able to move it to the short wall instead of taking up so much room on the long wall. I doubt I'll try to have any sort of dining table but may instead set up a paper-grading nook there.

A door opening (no door) separates the k/dr from the bedsit (as the British call it). The current tenant had a bed (it was either a double or a queen), a big tv, a big chair, a chest of drawers, and a rolling clothes rack. Although he is supposed to be living there alone, the female shoes and clothing testified to another occupant.

Right off the little bedsit is a closet that has room on one side for hanging clothing and on the other side for blankets and bedding or other things that fold. On that same side is the tiny bathroom. It contains only the necessities: a toilet, a sink, and a shower. The shower seemed roomy enough. At least I won't be sharing a bathroom with several other people, the way I do at Betty's. I also will have a designated parking space. No garage or shelter for poor Bonnie Blue, but at least I won't have to back out around a curve. And on nice days, I can walk to school. The apartment is three blocks from campus.

There's a window in the bedsit that looks out toward the Episcopalian Church to the side of the apartment building. I don't know if that window opens. Since I saw no air conditioning, that may be a problem. Heat is centrally located, with no access or control of the thermostat, so I may find myself just as cold there as I am at Betty's.

On Wednesday night I had supper with Monica Frees, the SLA workshop coordinator I work with. She lives in a darling little bungalow not far from Betty's house. I could easily see myself living in that little house (which is for sale), but I doubt my husband would like it as well as I do. I've teased Monica that she and I should just trade houses since her husband works in Grand Rapids near the airport. They have two young children and this huge house would be ideal for them.

My department chair will be happy that my proposal for the Michigan Academy of Arts and Sciences Conference was accepted. I've also agreed to do a Faculty Colloquium in April of next year. If I lived in Big Rapids full time, I think I could get even more done than I seem to get done now.

I'm eagerly awaiting Tuesday morning, which may be strange since it means a long needle will be inserted into my shoulder. If this cortisone shot doesn't help, I can't imagine what I'll do. I did read that fish oil helped the body deal with inflammation, so maybe if I eat tuna and salmon every day, I'll heal myself. It would be really nice not to wake up several times a night in pain.

Tomorrow I have Writer's Group. We're workshopping my work ("The Mad Scientist's Daughter") so I can't play hooky. Then I'm meeting a former student for lunch. Meanwhile, my spouse will fetch the cat from the vet clinic and burn a hole in his credit card to pay for the surgery. I can hardly wait to cuddle the big guy. He is truly such a sweetheart of a cat, and I'm just so sorry he has to endure all this. My husband was joking about cat dentures, but we are worried about his ability to eat dry food. He'll have to eat wet for a few days, at least. I'll update loyal readers on Simon's condition tomorrow evening.