It's a Mike Monday

I know this picture overwhelms you with admiration for my picture-taking skills. But I'm posting it anyway. Mike is a cat of mixed emotions at the moment. This photos represents the joy he is feeling. I did a little wrapping and got out the bow box, and now there are bows everywhere. He pounces on them, chases them down the hallway, carries them around. When he gets tired of the ones that are out he gets in the box and picks something new. It's a new game. He plays and I put away. And then we do it again. And, really, it's a pleasure. Watching his hours of fun reminds me of how enjoyable simple things can be.

Now this picture represents Mike's angst. That door is wide open and he wants to go out more than you can imagine. But the snow and cold temperatures have made him think twice. So he sits there and meows. And looks pathetic. And CC sits on the other side, bouncing up and down, waiting for him to make a move.

You know you're getting old . . .

. . . when you can't remember where you put the presents you worked so hard to hide. Guess it worked.

No good deed goes unpunished

Why is it that good intentions always seem to come back and bite you in the butt?

Back on the mammogram soapbox

If you need a mammogram, please get one.

And if you're not convinced, read this article, "Elizabeth Edwards, Rest in Peace," by Melinda Henneberger at Politics Daily.

Filling my Rx at the Von Maur shoe department

I am all about personal health this week, bloggy friends.

Yesterday's breast event was followed this morning by a visit to my general practitioner to have my cholesterol, blood sugar and what not screened. Mostly I just wanted a new Ambien prescription. Which he said he'd give me in January. Boo. But we had a nice chat about the maximum dose. All this time I thought it was just a suggestion.

And, drumroll please, my blood pressure was actually normal. That never happens. EVER. I felt like a superstar.

I told him about a spot near my toes that hurts sometimes. Apparently it's caused by a funky nerve. His suggestion? Buy new shoes. I love that man.

Have you had a check up lately? No? Then get yourself in there. I know I sound like your mother, but honestly, you're not getting any younger. And I want you to be well.

Loving my mammogram

Today was mammogram day, one of my very favorite days each year.

Seriously. I know it's ironic, considering how I go out of my way to avoid other medical appointments. Unless I need a new Ambien prescription. Then I am right there. As a general rule though, I hate to go to the doctor and have been known to postpone, reschedule, anything to get out of it.

But mammograms are different. I have seen first-hand the toll breast cancer can take. I don't want to go there, so I go to the outpatient imaging center instead, on time every year. And I smile while holding my breath and trying not to gasp. Grateful that it's an option.

If you're due for your mammogram, make your appointment now. Invite me along for moral support and I'll spring for lunch.

The case of cookie discrimination

At Hy-Vee yesterday, the lady behind the bakery counter told Riley he couldn't have a free cookie because he was too old. Then she handed one to the boy with us, who ironically is three months older than Riley, but shorter. Riley got one too after I threatened to sue.

Just kidding.

But it was a good reminder to not judge a book by its cover.