Splinching.

I am kind of like those kids in the Harry Potter books learning to disapparate, but failing: one part of the body in one place, another part of the body in another place.

Right now, my head, elbows, wrists, spleen, and lower back are still grading.

However, my hands and heart and, I guess, a part of my brain started getting things in order today: I began the process of cleaning out my closet which resulted in a lot of clothes to give away. I would show you a picture, but then I could never show my face amongst civilized people again. All the research I had done (I will leave you to guess in what sorts of sources I did my research) said that organizing one's closet would take a whole day, but no--only a couple of hours. On the other hand, I haven't started on shoes yet.

Also, I researched the bus routes in the hood so I could use my spanking new bus pass this summer and beyond.

Did I go to a movie this afternoon? No. Will I be able to go to a movie in the afternoon this week? Probably not. But for sure next week. A movie in the afternoon is the acid test: am I out of school? Is it summer yet? If I am at the movies in the afternoon, then yes!

Infected.

The bad news is, Betty is sick again, and it probably means she won't be with us much longer. She has new tumors, this time on her spleen--we saw them on an ultrasound. Also, a mass in her thigh that's also probably a tumor. When we took her to the animal hospital for the ultrasound, we also noticed an infection on her front leg, which turned out to be an abcess, which could well stem from a compromised immune system. She was anemic, her gums very pale--it seemed like this all happened in, like, a weekend.

So she's had a blood transfusion which she seemed to be "holding onto," as the vet phrased it. So that's good. They infused her with antibiotics for the abcess, and we're continuing that process, but for the moment it's still pretty ugly, still draining. And the thing about dogs and an ugly draining wound? Apparently it's delicious, because they want to lick it.

This afternoon, after the long-ish holistic reading/bagel/pizza/assessment party, aka the 2010 assessment, I came home a little on the exhausted side, ready to take a little rest. I am having my traditional post-holiday collapse, with a little cold on top, just to make life special. I lay down with the dark little thriller I'm reading, a novel by Arnaldur Indridason called Jar City, set in Reykjavik. I kept dreaming possible directions for the plot, very wintry and subarctic, all accompanied by an anxious music of licking.

When I woke up, I took Betty outside. She wandered to find the perfect spot to pee, then found another spot to bury her face in the snow, then roll in it. Big snow-loving girl. She's happiest in the winter, in the snow.