Doctors and movies

My Thursday began with a trip to the vet. Reynaldo needed bloodwork as part of his six-month exam. He was a real trooper, which was a relief because fasting for bloodwork can leave Rey feisty. His preliminary tests came back A-OK, and now we just have to schedule him for dental work in January.

Then I went to immediate care about all my scratching and clawing. Really, these bites are making me crazy! I got prescription strength ointment: triamcinolone acetonide. Hopefully it will make me feel better today, after 24 hours of use. (Please, God!)

While waiting for the doctor, I checked my phone and found that the water in my building had been turned off. Well, hell! I wasn't about to go cocoon anywhere that doesn't have a flushable toilet! So I impulsively went to the movies.

I was curious about All The Money in the World because of current events. Kevin Spacey had already completed his performance as J. Paul Getty when word of his certainly unsavory and perhaps illegal conduct came to light. Rather than risk backlash at the box office, director Ridley Scott decided to reshoot scenes of the movie with Christopher Plummer in the supporting but pivotal role. Scott had less than a month to do it. A daunting task, a prohibitive timeline. And yet he, and his cast, accomplished it seamlessly.

I'm old enough to remember the story of the Paul Getty kidnapping in real time. So I knew when to look away during a critical scene. I also knew how the movie would end. I wasn't aware of the conspiracy involved in his kidnapping, and I was impressed by both Plummer and Michelle Williams. Oh yeah, and I remain a little in love with Mark Wahlberg. (Note to self: watch more Mark Wahlberg movies in 2018.)

Christmas Eve, Christmas Day

Christmas Eve. Church and Dinner. Went to a very choral service in Key West. Their long-time musical director is retiring on December 31, and so the pastor virtually handed the service over to him. I would have preferred a bit more sermon, but Henry loved it. Since the only time he goes to church is on Christmas Eve with me, I suppose it's a good thing that he had such a wonderful time.

Then we stopped and had a light dinner at the restaurant where their friend Patrick is now working. I had a bowl of butternut squash/coconut soup, and Henry munched on the charcuterie. Got back to my room and found this lovely gift from hotel management.

My Christmas Day dawned and I welcomed it by munching on the gingerbread man the hotel gave me. Then I went for a dip in the pool.

Then I went for a walk. First stop was the beach. This is literally the southernmost spot in the contiguous United States. Next piece of land after this is Cuba.

Then I went shopping, picking up some Tahitian vanilla ice cream for dessert after our ham dinner, cooked by Reg (who keeps trying to get me like rutabaga).

Christmas 2017 is now documented!

I must be a lady of letters, part 3

Key West now has a Tennessee Williams Museum. It just reopened on December 15, a week before I arrived. It's not very big, but it's very sweet. So lovingly done. And, truth to tell, I've always enjoyed Williams' work better than I have Hemingway's, so I had a lovely time.

Williams finished Streetcar in Key West

I must be a lady of letters, part 2

I love cats. I appreciate Ernest Hemingway. So I always enjoy visiting The Hemingway House in Key West. I don't go every year, as it's one of those touristy things my Conch friends have done to death, but this year I made a point of it. So much of CNN's Hurricane Irma coverage centered around The Hemingway House, and I wanted to see for myself that the building and its feline residents are OK.

They are! It's always a kick to watch the Hemingway cats. There are at least 50 who live there. It's one of the provisions -- if the house is to be used as an attraction, that's fine, but Papa's cats and their descendants all have to remain welcome. Being cats, they make themselves comfortable throughout the house. Even on the old man's bed. The signs say we mere humans are not allowed to touch the furniture. But cats know they are descended from Egyptian Gods, and therefore are entitled to plant themselves wherever they wish.

Tour or no tour, it's nap time on Hemingway's bed

Naptime in Hemingway's bathroom

No cats (at the moment), but still my favorite room. This loft is the room where it happened, the studio is where Hemingway wrote A Farewell to Arms, For Whom the Bell Tolls, The Old Man and the Sea, and The Sun Also Rises.

I must be a lady of letters, part 1

There's a bookstore in Key West run by a dear friend of my friends. Before she took over the bookstore, she was a bartender with Reg. Then, when she was just getting started as an entrepreneur and Henry was unemployed, she gave him a job in the bookstore, shelving volumes and working the register.

I know how much she means to them, so when I saw that the store sustained considerable damaged during Hurricane Irma, I called and bought a $15 gift certificate for Henry. That was September and his birthday isn't until December, but September is when she was cash-strapped. She promised to keep it in the register until I came down for Henry's birthday/Christmas.

Unbeknownst to me, Henry was thinking the very same thing, and I got a $100 gift certificate for my birthday from the same bookstore. While the dollar amount made my eyes pop, it's really not as extravagant as it looks. The bookstore has a used book section, and now that Henry works at the local library, he keeps it stocked for his friend. He rescues the books that the library removes from the shelves, buying them for 25¢ or 50¢ each.* She insists on paying him, just as she would anyone else she buys used books from. Since Irma, he has collected a lot of store credit, and rather than having her open the register and pay him, he gave it to me as a gift certificate.

And so, on my first day in Key West, we had a shopping spree. Here's my $100 haul. It was a delight to walk through the shelves and say, "Wrap it up! I'll take it!"

Henry used his birthday present/gift certificate from me on a self-help book for his friend, Patrick. A head waiter at a popular restaurant in Maine, Patrick knows he won't make much money at home during these exceptionally snowy months and took a leave of absence. He's staying with Henry and Reg for the winter and working at a Key West restaurant because he is, in his own words, "poor as a church mouse." They'd agreed not to exchange gifts because the whole point of this trip was for Patrick to make money. But, since it was purchased with a gift certificate, Henry didn't think Patrick would mind. (And who doesn't want a gift under the tree?)

*I believe that's what he said he paid. I don't remember exactly (I'm so bad with numbers). I just recall it was a small amount.

Sights seen in qurky Key West

Parked next to us at the airport

Embracing Peace is a 25' tall installation by Seward Johnson

I was excited to see The W under palm trees

A drag queen will climb into that stiletto and they will drop at midnight on NYE

The Official Drink of Christmas 2017

The margarita, frozen and with salt. This was my standard drink order in Key West. We even stopped and raised a couple in the original Margaritaville Cafe, right there on Duval. My friend Henry suffered brain freeze.

Layover learning

I spent hours and hours in ATL as I waited between flights. I designed it that way. I didn't want to stress over missing my connection because of snow when I took off from Chicago or rain when I took off from Key West. I happily discovered that, if you have to be stuck in an airport for hours and hours, Hartsfield-Jackson is good.

They have a permanent exhibit devoted to Dr. King! Maintained by the King Center, it's case after case of personal items, donated by Coretta Scott King. And harried travelers just barrel past it, concentrating on their phones and roller bags and don't even notice the history right there. I'm grateful I had the time to stop and look and take it in.

These are just the parts of the exhibit that were easiest to photograph

His 60s-style transistor, wristwatch, the glasses he really didn't need but often carried.

The actual suit worn for his Oval Office meeting with LBJ, 1965

The worst of all possible worlds

I'm home from Christmas in Key West. Oh, am I ever home! It was bright and 80º yesterday when I got on the plane, and 0º last night when I landed in Chicago.

But I haven't slept well these last few nights. Not because I miss the sun and the palm trees, but because the Key West No-See-Ums feasted on me. Those welts have literally interrupted my slumber.

From mosquitomagnet.com

So even though I had a lovely holiday, and I'm happy to be home, I feel that right now I'm experiencing the worst the South and the Midwest have to offer.

Saturday 9

Saturday 9: Happy Holidays! (from the archives)

1. As you can see, Sam loved giving her annual wish list to Santa. Yet some children are

reluctant to climb into Jolly Old St. Nick's lap. Did you enjoy the tradition or were you shy? Or did you by pass it altogether -- either because you wrote him a letter or because your family didn't celebrate Christmas? When I was a little girl, we had a mailbox like this at home and I would have preferred to leave my letter for Santa inside. But my mom got such a kick out of seeing us with Santa that we did that instead. I never enjoyed it -- I felt awkward and shy with the old gent -- but it felt like my job as her daughter.

2. Are you currently on the Naughty or Nice list? How did you get there? I think I'm on the Nice side of the ledger. I wouldn't say I'm 100% Nice, but I'm working on it. And I believe that, in this category, effort counts.

3. Did you ship any gifts to friends and family this year? If so, which one traveled the farthest? My gift to my oldest friend went from Chicago to Beverly Hills, 2028 miles. It's a 5x7 of her and me in our plush white terry robes, awaiting our spa treatments in Las Vegas last month. I added a Starbucks gift card for good measure.

4. Did you buy yourself a gift this year? I'm very generous with myself.

5. What's your favorite holiday-themed movie? Have you seen it yet this year? My favorite is Mr. Magoo's Christmas Carol. I haven't seen it yet, but I will. I think I'll take it with me to enjoy during my layover in ATL.

My favorite version. Really!

6. Thinking of movies, Christmas is lucrative for Hollywood. Have you ever gone to a movie theater on Christmas Day? Nope.

7. Have you ever suffered an embarrassing moment at the company Christmas party? Yes. Let us say no more.

8. What's your favorite beverage in cold weather? Hot tea.

9. Share a memory from last Christmas. Proudly wearing my Cubs 2016 WORLD SERIES CHAMPION gear, and gifting my expatriate friends with Cubbie championship caps. It was glorious!

He's annoying, she's worrying

As I head into Christmas, I have two close friends on my mind.

Henry, oh, Henry. My friend in Key West is so dear, so loving. And such a fucking flake. While I have no doubt that I'll be welcome when I arrive down there, and that he will be happy to see me, he's not making this trip easy. For ever since last summer, he only sporadically checks email. He simply doesn't "like it anymore." His Mac died, and he inherited his friend Ted's PC, and he just doesn't care for the platform. Likewise, he doesn't "like" Facebook or Twitter. He works ever-changing hours at the library (some days, some evenings), so it's hard for us to coordinate in real time. His preferred form of communication is text message, but some messages -- like my upcoming itinerary! -- are too long and complicated for texts. It's been nerve wracking to make sure he gets my info so he can be there tomorrow to meet my plane!

My oldest friend. She didn't get the job she was so counting on and now will be moving to a small town in the mountains to live with her cousin. She sent me the most plaintive email yesterday, referring to herself as unemployable because she's "old and fat." She sounded so hopeless. So I called her. She didn't pick up. I left a message. She didn't return it. She did send me an email later that night. But shit! She's scaring me.

I'm glad she's moving in with her cousin. It will be good to know that she's under the watchful eye of someone who not only loves her, but understands what's going on with her health. And I wish she realized how very lucky she is to have a cousin with an "in-law's" apartment in her home, just waiting for her to move in. I wish I had such a resource I could lean on!

Most of all, I wish she wouldn't reach out and then retract back into her unhappy shell like a tortoise. I hate how helpless it makes me feel. But I must be patient with her. She's struggling with a lot and doing the best she can.

And it's Christmas. She's spending it with the family she moved 2000 miles to be with. There has to be some joy in that for her, right?

My Little Lion in Winter

Reynaldo is getting old. He's 13.5 years old, which is about 70 in human years. Looking back on our time together, I can see time and age have slowed him down.

He's more mellow. He no longer views my sleeping as neglect. Now at night, I find him curled up beside me in bed. It's very sweet.

His senses of sight and smell appear to be a bit dulled. Sometimes he insists his dish is empty when he's just pushed the kibble to the rim with his nose. All I have to do is shake the bowl for him and he's happy again.

He's given up on his battle against framed artwork. He used to sit under the pictures on the wall, howling at them, now and again slipping a paw under them to knock them down. No more. It must be noted, however, that I no longer even bother displaying family pictures around the living room. He has knocked them over so often that the frames are broken. And I have no doubt that if I took them out again, he'd instantly resume his assault.

He has no obvious health problems, but at this age he should go to the vet every six months. I just made an appointment for him next week. I guess this hammers it home for me to accept that our time together is shorter. Yes, he's healthy now, but statistically speaking, indoor cats live between 12 and 18 years. My dear old Joe made it to 19 or 20, but that's unusual. So while Rey's racing around as I write this, making little noises and either fleeing or pursuing an imaginary adversary, he is an old man.

He's taught me a lot over our time together. I'm more patient for knowing him. I've come to accept him as he is, even as I believe he still has serious gripes with me. But I know I've given him a good life, and there's no question that he loves me.

He enriched my life when he entered it, back in November 2004. He's less a pet and more a companion. I'm glad we're together.

They have sharpened my awareness

Homelessness in Chicagoland is not a new thing. It's been a problem dealt with -- with varying degrees of success -- across my lifetime. And yet, it's not something I've thought about very often.

Oh, I've always given my change to those I pass. I made a point of teaching my niece and nephew to always, always make eye contact with those on street corners, and speak if spoken to ("No, I'm sorry" if you can't give or "Good luck" when handing over coins). I believe acknowledging their humanity is important. Part of it is my Christianity. I don't write about it often, but my faith is a major influence on how I see the world, and I try to be more compassionate because I try to live as He wants me to.

But the reality of homelessness has eluded me. I worry about being unemployed, broke, and having to go to the local food pantry. I've looked into the faces of those waiting to get their allotment of groceries and it's sobering. Whenever there's a major storm, I worry about abandoned or stray cats and dogs, confused and in danger and in search of shelter. But I've never actually put myself in the place of a homeless person.

Since getting to know Napoleon, I now do.  The family -- kitten Napoleon plus "parents" Randi and Caleb -- lives on what can be made panhandling. I've learned that they must raise $46 to sleep indoors in a shelter that both allows pets and has shower facilities. There are free shelters, but they often require you to check your belongings when you enter, and often those items get stolen. Or they don't allow pets, and there's no way they are going anywhere without Napoleon. Or they can't bathe. Rather than stay in one of those places, they sleep in their tent.

We've been enjoying unseasonably warm weather lately. Usually, that would annoy me. I like four seasons, and it's Christmastime! A little snow would make me smile. But we're heading into a cold snap. No cheery snow, just gray skies and falling temperatures. What does this mean for Napoleon and his family? Will they raise the $8/hour they need to sleep indoors? Or will they be stuck outdoors in the cold and damp?

I'm glad that, before I left for Christmas break, I gave them a stocking that included extra socks and gloves. Just in case they need to layer, or replace the ones they wear that get wet.

I'm a better person for knowing Napoleon and his people. Let's see how this manifests itself in 2018! What will I do to become a more thoughtful person going forward?

My hermit-y days continue

As this portion of my vacation continues, I realize how happy I am all by myself.  Today I enjoyed myself:

•  Watching one of those classics I've always read about but have never seen -- The Man Who Came to Dinner. It's funny and, while I thought it started slow, it grew on me. Even though she was top billed, Bette Davis has a supporting role, and she's actually rather sweet. And "sweet" is not a word I usually apply to BD.

•  Writing out a condolence card to Joanna. She put her beloved black cat to sleep yesterday. Joanna hit such a bad stretch -- money trouble, a bad case of flu, and now this. It did make me happy, though, that she reached out to me to tell me about her kitty. Our friendship is growing slowly, at a nice pace. I liked it that she knew I'd be sympathetic to the loss of her fur baby. that she wanted to share this with me. We're going to get together some time next week to celebrate New Year's.

•  Putting together a final bag of stuff for Goodwill. I got a pair of black pajamas today from my cousin Rosie. They're adorable and I love them, but black pajamas just won't do in a home with two cats and lots of shedding. So they were first into the bag. Then there were the odds and ends I've been slipping into the bottom drawer of the armoire, just waiting for their opportunity to leap into the bag, too.

"I did so do something!"

... she said defensively.

I went to the dentist and had a blissfully uneventful checkup and cleaning.

I took myself out to breakfast and celebrated my vacation over a mug of apple cider with cinnamon. (My two favorite smells!)

I went to the bank and took out a lot of cash for my upcoming vacation.

I did four loads of wash (mixed, darks, whites, and my mattress cover/bathroom rug).

Then I went to CVS and used my coupon for another jug of my favorite laundry detergent. (Tide Ultra. Why is it only available at CVS?)

I rotated my mattress.

I admit that come evening, I forgot what day of the week it was.

Keeping it local

I stayed in the neighborhood today. My Sunday started with a walk around the corner to church.

Today's sermon was about mixing diverse ingredients to make a tastier holiday season -- you know, the benefits of being inclusive this time of year. (Or, maybe include the Maccabbees in our thoughts, along with the Wise Men.) I found myself sitting with my neighbor Jen, who is moving to Colorado right after Christmas. She was feeling wistful about sitting in these pews for nearly the last time.

Then I took my camera to our independent camera store. As smartphones and digital cameras have revolutionized photography, this store has gone through changes. Now about half of the floor is devoted to educational toys. But for those of us who still need a camera store, this is the place to go. The staff is knowledgeable, reputable and so very honest. Today the owner fixed my camera and replaced the cheap CVS batteries with better Duracell ones -- no charge. He recommends I bring it back after Christmas, when he has a full staff, for a good cleaning. I took the $20 I thought I'd pay for the repair and used it to buy three Melissa and Doug Puffy Sticker Play Sets.

I dropped the play sets off at the sporting goods store, which has a Toys for Tots collection box in the window. I nearly bought myself an ugly Cubs Christmas sweater because, well, I don't have one and I want one. But it was $69. Maybe after I'll find it on sale at an after Christmas sale.

On the way home, I stopped at the little pizza parlor and grabbed a slice to go.

I realized anew how happy I am living here. I feel sorry for people like my oldest friend, who has lived in Beverly Hills for 7 years now and still hasn't put down roots. I belong where I'm at.