We’ve had no internet for the last 5 days. It’s been like someone cut off a heroin supply to serious addicts. Steve still hasn’t recovered and is as prickly as a defensive porcupine. Jake coped incredibly well. X-Box Live is a vital tool in our house for a happy Jake, and I was amazed he coped so well. We went back to 1950s living – reading, cooking, picking up real information, mostly avoiding Steve. Right now, they’re still bickering about Active and Passive Basses. Sometimes, Steve’s temper is shorter than a prostitute’s skirt.
Jake is currently sitting doing a science experiment from a present from his mum. Great gift. He’s made an alginate solution and is now making his calcium solution.
“I’ve got to add the cal-key-um chloride…”
“That’s cal-See-um chloride”
“I’ve got to add the cal-SEE-um chloride to the al-gin-ate solution.”
“I’ve got to add the CAL-SEE-UM chloride to the AL-GIN-ATE solution… and use a pipe-ette”
“I’ve got to add the CAL-SEE-UM chloride to the AL-GIN-ATE solution and use a PIP-ette…”
Steve grumbles and goes back to his computer, only to chip in every time Jake makes a mistake. Someone needs a little bit of patience this afternoon! He practically bit my head off for saying he can go out and get some coffee if he wants. The fact is, I’ve been doing stuff with Jake all day in between mopping up after Tilly (who, after a hiatus and some rain has decided the house is a much nicer place in which to urinate) and trying to look after Basil. Basil who is very, very poorly.
Basil was fine on Saturday and Sunday. He even came out and sunbathed a little. Now he can’t move very well, is so weak he can’t stand on his back legs and is howling horribly. He’s still eating but he’s way worse than he was yesterday. He didn’t eat on Monday and by yesterday, he was glad of the tuna. He is wolfing it down. I can’t work out what’s wrong. If he’s not better tomorrow, it’ll be time for the vet. The problem is, he’s not so ill they’ll put him to sleep, yet he’s clearly not healthy. It’s not broken bones or anything for an x-ray. I suspect it’s just old age, or even a stroke. My mum’s cat, who I thought was younger than Basil, Penny, died last year, and Basil is showing a lot of the same behaviours. He tried very hard to get under the duvet and then under the bed, though he’s made valiant attempts to use his litter box. Poor boy.
Basil has been my saviour on many an occasion – he’s been a reason to come home and a reason to be glad to come home. Not only that, he’s also a bond to Andy. If you want the definition of sad kharma, I found all of mine and Andy’s valentine’s cards yesterday, and his birth certificate, the documents for our never-taken holiday in the Maldives… it’s horrid reading the words of long-dead lovers saying they’ll love you forever. Forever isn’t really forever, is it?? I found a picture of a very young looking Andy sitting with Basil on his knee. If I knew then what I know now….
I don’t think I’d do a single thing differently!!!