HFM

Today is the sixth anniversary of when we moved into this house. It's hard to believe it's already been six years! We marked the day by drinking eggnog and enjoying our Christmas decorations: Charlie Brown Christmas Tree sent by Mama O'Brien, surrounded by various paper cutouts, mementos, & presents. Momma Arave's Christmas Bough. Mama O'Brien's stockings. Pickles' stocking, plus we hung the stockings for the mice again -- they're not upstairs this year, but we know they're never very far away. It was a nice ending to an eventful weekend, full of champagne & oysters, and happening to be at City Hall when the mayor's body was lying in-state in the main rotunda. Never a dull moment! As for Pickles, the test results did come back clean, and she's having her stitches out first thing Monday morning. She is preparing by resting up in a pile of clean laundry:

Poor Pickles had to undergo a medical procedure this week. A few weeks ago, we found a lump on her belly. Our regular vet did a needle biopsy that was inconclusive, so we had to bring her to a special vet on Monday for a lumpectomy. They sent her home with this satellite dish cone: Cone? Or is she picking up radio waves from space? It's made of a heavy paper with a plastic coating. It's nice that it's not rigid, so that she can lie down comfortably. Also, she doesn't get stuck on things like door frames, because the collar gives when it hits things. Unfortunately, that has also been its downfall. Pickles likes rubbing on furniture and walls -- particularly when she's wearing something she doesn't want to be wearing. Two days in, she had managed to get it to flip the wrong way: Cone? Or dashing dental x-ray cape*? That in itself isn't a problem, because even with it inside out, she still can't get to her stitches. But now, four days in, it's been fold...