Got a mani and pedi at Ilema's Esthetique in Salem, the "High Maintenance Center for Men and Women" today. Next door at "Lourine's", she sells wigs and breast prosthesis. It's fun to help someone with creative advice who is out for a new look as they enter or leave chemo or radiation. I have never met anyone who wasn't pumped about getting any hair they want.
For a nail color, I picked "Last Night on Wisteria Lane" which is a hot pink...usually I like "Meet Me at the Copier" or "Out for a Drink of Lunch", but I wanted something more sentimental to match my leavetaking of my home of 25 years in Botetourt County.
The cats are especially pissed because they are now indoors only, after 11 years of crawling all over the backwoods of Troutville and cruising God's Own Half Acre, as Mom used to say. They have never known any other life and take it out on me every night: howling, crying, crouching at the screen door, being tortured by the birds...I'm such a bitch. But I lost too many animals on a busy street growing up in Roanoke, and now that I am on a quiet one, I don't feel any safer. They are too innocent in the ways of the big City, and too trusting of dogs, since they were raised by one.
This article is not only to say goodbye to Home, I have more grieving to do and will write about it in the future, but is also dedicated to River Laker, one mean kilt-wearing...sorry...jeans wearing dude about town; practicing for his Marilyn Monroe tribute...Marilyn over the heating grate, that is. Shorts don't have the same impact as a kilt would, but I think the brou ha ha about his strip tease took something out of him...yes, that IS a challenge. After all, do you know of any question more perennial than, "Do they wear something under there?"