Happy St. Patrick's Day

Today is my husband's mom's birthday. I think she really enjoyed having her birthday on St. Patty's Day. I've lost track of the numbers..... this would've been her 83rd, I think. We all miss her.

I had mentioned the idea of having a St. Patty's Day get-together..... but we never got around to planning anything. My husband has been busy this week, and tonight we're going downtown to see "The King and I" at one of the Houston theatres. I have a pretty green outfit to wear, but not today..... too cold....... the temperature dropped from 85 to 60.

Still colder than usual here.... totally stupid weather, but at least the sun is out today. The cats drive me crazy in this weather. They don't like to be cold, so they don't stay out on the screen-porch for too long, which gives them "cabin fever."

I kept Rusty in the house the night before last and I swear that cat woke me up every couple of hours. When he's in the house, he thinks his food dish should always be filled up to the brim. And I can't do that, because he'd sit there and keep eating till every morsel was gone. Rusty is already over-weight so I have to be careful of how much food he gets. I'm like the catfood-cop around here.

When I lived in NY, I had a female cat. She never woke me up during the night... never over-ate... and she never ever had "accidents" on the floors or carpeting. Our three cats (all male) always wake me up in the middle of the night. Unless, of course, it's nice and warm and I let them sleep on the screen-porch..... which they will be doing soon. It's the only way for me to sleep through the night.

AngelBoy woke me up the night before last at 4:00........ because he had used the litter box in our bathroom. Of course, I was happy that he used the box (being that I didn't put him in the laundry room that night to sleep). AngelBoy is a strange little cat. He won't set a paw into a litter box that's been soiled by one of the other cats, and he makes sure to let me know when he has used a box, because he can't stand it not being cleaned out quickly. And believe me..... the litter boxes get cleaned out promptly around here. No one walking in our front door would even guess that we have three cats in this house.

Three cats. Three male cats whose main mission in life is to make sure that I don't get a full night's sleep. Just wait. Wait till it warms up again. Rusty will be sleeping out on the deck... AngelBoy and ShadowBaby will be sleeping on the screen-porch. And I will have my head under the pillow for a really good night's sleep.

........ I received a note from my friend H in Florida. She and her husband moved there from NY before I moved here to Texas. H took her time and spent over a year looking for the perfect house in Florida. She found it........ and loved it.... and now she and her husband have moved into an "assisted living" senior community. They sold their beautiful, perfect house. I was just stunned when I read that. H wrote that their apartment now is just big enough for the two of them, and if they get to the point where they need "assisted living," the facility is equipped for it.

She sounds perfectly happy..... she said that she took just as much furniture as would fit into their smaller home. "It looks just like our house, only smaller," she wrote. I plan on calling her this week, to say hello and wish her well in her new home. I was just so surprised that they sold their house.

I have another friend up in NY who just recently sold her home there and moved to a senior community in Pennsylvania. She was hesitant about moving and had lots of mixed feelings before she put her much-loved home on the market. Her house sold, her family helped her pack, and now she's in PA unpacking the boxes in a much smaller home.

Is that what life comes down to? Going into an "assisted living" community when you get older? H and her husband must be around 75 or so now..... maybe a bit older. H was always so vibrant... running here and there, keeping busy, doing everything herself and doing it well and quickly. I just can't picture her needing assistance for anything.

I couldn't imagine myself in an assisted living apartment. I couldn't bear not to be able to do things on my own. And I couldn't bear the thought of not living right here in our home. Hopefully, I'll never have to.

From my lips to God's ears, as my dear friend Blance used to say.