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Tuesday, November 23, 1999 Well, life goes on. My mom is doing better, not so scared now, about hurting her drain. I called her this morning and she was still in bed. It was cold last night. Her appointment has been changed to three tomorrow afternoon, which sucks. But it was that or wait until December 4th, and that would be really terrible. I can't imagine walking around with a drain hanging from me for a week, let alone two and a half. So, there's my day for tomorrow.

Maggie had a bladder infection a couple of weeks ago and I gave her amoxi for it. It cleared up, but not enough. The infection is obviously back. Her constant squatting and spraying attest to this. So, this morning I called the vet, should I bring her in or could he prescribe something stronger. When they called back, I was told that I could just give her baytril. Well, I don't have any left from DeeJay's infection, so I had to go get more. I pulled into the parking lot, my favorite spot was taken. By the time I had bought the medicine, the parking space next to me was taken, too. This presented a problem. There was a car parked behind me. I couldn't back straight out without hitting the car behind me. I couldn't turn the wheel either way because I might hit either of the cars parked next to me. A delivery man tried to guide me out, but I didn't think I could do it. Too much go back, turn the wheel a little, go forward, back out again, turn the wheel a little more......I figured I would just sit there and wait for someone to leave. I thought that the guy to my right had just gone in to get a donut. Nope. But he came out to get something in his car and was sitting in the front seat with the door opened. I got his attention. I was trying to back up, could he please move his car? I know how stupid this sounds, I really do, but I would rather ask and be thought an idiot than to take a chance and hit a vehicle. He shuts the door. Sits there. He misunderstood. I got his attention again. "I'm trying to back up and I'm afraid I'm going to hit your car. Do you mind moving it?" He looked at me like I was way out of line, but he did move. Like I said, if he hadn't, I would have sat there and waited for somebody to leave. I was able to back out without a problem. He didn't even look in my direction. I have no idea why he would be hanging around this mall, there's not much there.

Last night, when I fed the cats, Opie, Meezer and Spot were there, but I didn't see Angus or OC or Cleo or Blue. I petted Opie a little bit, I think he doesn't come around when the other cats are here because of territorial problems. This morning when I left, the food I had put out was hardly eaten. I don't like what this has me thinking. There was a loose dog in the neighborhood last night, so maybe that's why they didn't venture across the street. As I said before, I think Opie, Spot and Meezer all live behind me. I'll watch tonight. If Angus and OC show up, I'll be pretty darned relieved. I stopped feeding the outback cats because I think they've been coming out front at night. I don't want to feed the dog behind us and I'm sure he gobbles up the food. Where I used to see cats lounging all over their yard, even with the dog, I see none of them now. That's one of the reasons I think they are gone.

Brian got the patio all torn down Sunday and what a difference it makes. We're getting so much light into the house. The living room doesn't look like a dungeon anymore, but you can sure see the dust. Guess what I have to do?

Sunday, while Brian was working on the patio cleanup, he started yelling. Seems like Maggie got onto the roof. How she did so was a mystery. Brian got the ladder and went up after her. I ran out front. She was at the side of the house on the roof and ran back towards the backyard. Brian yelled out she was down. She went down the ladder. At least, that's what I thought he said. He didn't. She went down *by* the ladder. She jumped from the roof to the ground. Whoa! That's a real long jump. I found her and did a quick examination of her, to make sure nothing was hurt. Two of her claws were a little bloody, but they still had the claws and there was no bleeding. I let her run off. I was looking out the door and happened to glance at the big cat tree we have against one of the walls. Of course!! That's how she got up there. Brian tipped the tree over onto its side. The cats love that thing, but we couldn't leave it up. Brian got rid of the rest of the wood and swept off the patio. Then he righted the tree and pushed it to the middle of the patio. The patio is 18 feet across, from the angle of one side of the roof to the other. The top section of the cat tree is 20 inches. This shouldn't be a problem. We're talking almost a nine foot jump, straight across in any direction. The cats are loving it. There's more sun and more of a breeze. They are running up and down the cat tree. It's fun to watch them play.

So, I'm sitting here yesterday, playing around in the office. I hear a thump on the roof. Huh? I go outside. There's Maggie. On the roof. Dammit. How on earth did she get over there? I can't figure it out, not at all. Granted, she's a long cat. But I just can't see her going from a standstill to between an eight to nine foot long jump. It's inconceivable to me. But there's no other way she could have done it. I ran into the shop and grabbed the ladder. "What the hell am I doing?" I thought to myself. If I put this ladder up, I certainly can't go after her. Benny would be up in no time, once he realized he had access. I started yelling at her, calling her. She came back to me, looked down, went over to the corner of the house and jumped down to the yard (see the picture below).

This morning Brian and I talked about what we should do about the cat tree. I said, jokingly, "can't you put it in the yard?" This thing is old, the carpet is rotted. It's big and dirty and dusty, but the cats still love it. They love to climb on it and they love to sleep in it. Brian said, no, because he didn't want the lawn getting dying under it. I could understand his point. "Well, we can't let Maggie out until something's done about it," I say. He went outside. He came back in said "I couldn't do it." LOL!! Seems when he started to tip it over, Benny ran up it and wouldn't get off. "So what did you do?" I asked. "Put it on the lawn." (You can see it in the top photo.) LOLOL!!! Too funny.

My sister-in-law, who is not an animal person, who is also moving out to the sticks, called. I have no idea why. She made small talk. I'm not much for small talk with non-animal people. She seems concerned about me moving out there. This makes no sense. Why would she be worried about me, worry about your own damn self. I'll be fine. Geez. I tell her that she forgets that I'm an only child who moved every two to three years. I've never had much of a social life, don't care to have much of a social life. Brian is the same way. I'm not worried about it. I don't need alot of people around me constantly to exist. She does. Besides, I tell her, I'll have the internet. I have more in common with my net friends than I ever did in real life, but I didn't mention that to her. She did ask me if we were coming over for Thanksgiving dinner and I said I guessed we were. My mother in law is cooking, so I don't know why my sister-in-law would want to know. Somehow, she was wondering about a time line for moving. I told her I didn't think that realistically, we would be out there before three or four years. I told her I didn't look forward to moving. For some reason, she thought I didn't want to leave this house. She said "so, what, are you going to live here and Brian live out there?" Holy spit, what a stupid thing to say. "No," I tell her "I'll live with my husband." I just hate moving since I did so much of it as a child. I have no patience with her. Her husband can't do anything without her. Not because of him, but because of her. She won't let him. If she can't make it he can't go (one time she had to go to a wedding, which he didn't go to; our nephew, who is in the Marines, had told us about an open house the base was having and he wanted to show off the helicopter he worked on; she wouldn't let Mark go because she couldn't). Other times, she makes a long "to do" list for him. Like when she went to Las Vegas with her sister, Mark spent all weekend doing work for her relatives. She left him a list. And she thinks that Brian is "too easy". All of this is ironic, because when Brian and I had only been married a couple of years, Brian used to spend lots of time at his mom's. This made sense, because all of his tools were over there (he hadn't built our shop out back yet) and his sand car, the Bronco was over there. We had season tickets for the Chargers (the "dolts" as we refer affectionately to them now) and we also had passes for the bus so we didn't have to fight traffic. It was getting late, Brian still wasn't home and I called over there to remind him of the time. If he gets involved with something, time flies and he *wants* me to remind him. Anyway, Mark answers the phone, I ask for Brian, tell him we going to be late if he isn't home soon. Mark says "give him a break" in a really snotty tone of voice. I just shut my mouth, didn't say a word. I held the phone to my ear, speechless that he even said such a thing to me. Finally, he says "are you still there?" I said "yes, tell him I called." Brian was home soon and, boy, did he get an earful. I was hot, how dare his brother talk to me like that? *snicker* Seems like Karma up and bit him in the butt, big time. Now, he's married to someone much, much, much more controlling than I ever could be. And she has a deadbeat son that Mark can't stand, to boot. Ah...Karma..........

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Thursday, November 25, 1999 Happy Thanksgiving to everybody who is reading this today. I hope you have a warm, peaceful holiday season. Remember, just don't expect too much from others and you won't be disappointed. It seems the holiday season doesn't make us feel better, it just heightens our expectations. Before you feel like telling someone to take a chill pill, take it yourself. *grins*

Last night, someone had sprayed the wall in my bathroom and there was pee on the floor. I cleaned the floor yesterday, so the color of the urine showed up nicely on the white vinyl. It was a little blood tinged. This is going to be hard to figure out who did this. Rusty? Boney? Mickey? Kirby? There was too much volume for what Maggie has been going. I hate this.

Yesterday was my mom's day to get her drain out. In the hour we were together, she pissed me off, then I felt guilty about how I feel about her as the day wore on, after I dropped her off. If she weren't my mother, I doubt I'd choose her for my friend. Not for very long. I'm supposed to *understand* her. But she makes no effort whatsoever to *understand* me. I may be her daughter, but I'm still a human being. I don't think she realizes that. I don't know how to tell her. Lord knows I've tried in the past. It only works short term. That is if I can get past her defenses. And her main defense is "I've always been like this". My feeling is I've never liked it, I've always been uncomfortable around it and now that I'm an adult, I try to stay away from it, if at all possible. Mom doesn't understand why I'm not around her more, why I don't visit. I tell her it's because I don't visit anyone, which I don't. That seems to be the easiest thing to say, the least hurtful to her. Even though she rarely tries to spare my feelings, I won't deliberately hurt hers. It would serve no purpose.

I picked her up at a quarter past two. She didn't have her shoes on and put them on outside of her gate, shuffling up to the car. No kidding, she was actually shuffling, she does this, don't ask me why. When she gets in, I start a conversation. She immediately takes offense. This is going to be a long day. I was wondering why doctors' make appointments for a certain time, then make you wait to see them. Emergency I can understand. I was thinking about when we had gone to see her doctor previously and sat in the examining room for almost an hour and wasn't looking forward to waiting another hour. Of course, I didn't say this outloud. She said "then don't bother taking me, I'll call an ambulance." Then I told her it wasn't just her, but other doctors offices that did that. It seems to me that if your appointment is for three o'clock, and if you're on time, then you shouldn't have to wait more than fifteen minutes. It was a rant towards doctors, not my mom, but she wanted to make it about her. When I wouldn't go there, she started talking about the times that she's had to wait. The conversation seemed to be going well at this point. Mom was a little warm and had opened her window a couple of inches. I was driving the Mustang, which gives the driver control of all four windows. Each window also has a control for that window only. And the driver also has the option of "lock windows" so that the driver is the only one who can operate them. We're waiting for a light to change and a big truck pulls up next to us, his window open, stereo blasting. He's next to mom, in the right hand turn lane. Mom yells out "TURN IT DOWN, YOU F*CKER!!"

I can't even believe she did this. She turns and looks at me, supremely pleased with herself. It's obvious from my face that I don't feel the same way. I roll her window up. "Hey, don't roll my window up!!" she says, put out with me. She's done this before, yelling and cussing out other drivers while I'm driving. She knows I don't like it. We're in Southern California, where road rage is rampant. This kind of thing scares the crap out of me. And I seriously doubt she would do this with her friend Betty. And I know she wouldn't do it around Brian. So, why me? I hate this. She tells me "you yell at people, too." Yeah, well, when I yell at them, they certainly can't hear me, I wait until they're out of earshot and it's more muttering than yelling. And I use words like moron or idiot. Then she denies having called him a name. I tell her what she called him. She says "well, I meant to call him a bastard." (Oh, that's lots better. Yeah, you go girl.) She gets pissed off at me. She starts fidgeting. I try some small talk. She's punishing me with grunts for answers. I start to tell her about my incident in the vet parking lot the day before. "Remember I told you about Maggie having a bladder infection?" I say. "No, you didn't tell me that," she says. "Yes, I did." "Well, you have so many cats, you just have to expect it with them." Years ago, on the phone, I told her something and she said "you never told me about that." I had. She said "well, I never listen to you anyway." It seems she still doesn't listen to me anyway. (Ah, the mother/daughter relationship, ain't it grand?) I don't say another word. At one point, she rolled her window down farther. Just playing, I roll it back up about a half an inch. She gives me a really nasty look and says "don't antagonize me." Fine. So, we go the rest of the way in peaceful silence. Of course, I hit every light red.

We pull into the driveway and I drop her off. I park the car and go into the hospital. She's waiting up front. We go up the elevators and she checks in. They take her right in. I had to go to the restroom and when I came back, I asked if she was seeing the doctor or was just in a waiting room. She was with the doctor. If she would have been in the waiting room by herself, I would have gone in. I sit down and thumb through an old magazine. About fifteen minutes later, I hear her in the back. She comes out. "I'm done, let's go" she says. She checks out and we leave.
"What did he say?" I ask her.
She shakes her head. This isn't a good sign. She can't talk.
"Did they find something in the lymph nodes?"
"No."
"Well, when does the radiation therapy start?"
She shakes her head again.
"Mom."
Her eyes start to tear up. My heart sinks. Oh, God, no. I feel lightheaded. I wish I could have been in there for her. She says "they want me to have a mastectomy." I don't understand this, I'm not sure why she's saying this. This couldn't be. Why had she gotten the option of either/or if all they were going to do was to take the breast anyway? Why put her through that? It's cruel. We reach the car, I'm still speechless. I don't know what to say, what to make of this. It's not sinking in, my mind is rejecting what she's said. It makes no sense. We reach the car and she gets into the passenger seat. She sits there, shaking, starts to cry a little harder. Words start pouring out of her. She doesn't want to lose her breast, she had told the doctor. He mentioned reconstructive surgery. She doesn't want one of those, she wants to keep what she has. The cancer is gone. She's cancer free. But she has to see three more doctors, a panel, who will make the final decision. Her doctor feels very strongly that radiation therapy will do the trick. I digest this information. I breathe a sigh of relief. "This is what you've been told from the start," I tell her. Remember our discussion in Mina's office? That you have the option of lumpectomy or mastectomy? That the outcome is the same? She nods. "Well, that's what the doctor was telling you. That the final decision isn't his, it's up to these other doctors. And they're looking out for your interests. They want to keep you alive. I wouldn't doubt that they do this with everybody who has a lumpectomy, to cover their asses. Down the road, they'll be able to say 'well, we told her what could happen so she has no right to sue'."
"Well, why didn't the doctor tell me that?"
You know, thinking on it, it only makes sense. They aren't going to get a panel of three oncologists together just for mom. It's hard to reason with her, though. I do get her calmed down. She's to make the appointment after the Thanksgiving holidays. This was a better drive home. Her defenses were down and she talked to me. One adult to another. Not mother to daughter, slave to master. I wish it didn't take such a scare to have her like this. I told her that Betty had called me the night before the surgery. She wanted to know why. I told her what Betty had said. I told her that if she started to get these feelings, that she was going to die, to please, call me. She said that she had just been so tired, that's why she had gone to the doctor in the first place. And what was the problem, I asked her? It was your back, right. She snipped back, "no, it was my neck." Well, the neck is pretty damned close to the back in my book. Anyway, she had some sort of tension/pinched nerve in her neck that was affecting her, giving her headaches and making her tired. They gave her some muscle relaxers and she was okay after that. But that visit is when her doctor noticed she hadn't been in for a mammogram in a while. "Well, mom, that wasn't the cancer making you tired. The cancer isn't in your system. You have an overactive imagination, mom, and you start to think the worst." At this point, she quickly turned her head in my direction, giving me a nasty look. "You can give me all the nasty looks you want," I said to her, "but you know you do it and you just worry yourself sick. So, if you start to worry, call me." She says "Betty's imagination is worse than mine." And she starts talking about stuff that Betty has done.

On the final leg of the drive, she says that she wishes we were closer. "We've never been a close family," I tell her, thinking about my life as a child. The only time she even seemed to care about what I was doing was when it reflected badly on her as a parent. Like getting in trouble at school or not getting good grades. Other than that, my life was boring to her, like it is now. She just wasn't interested. She still isn't. I told her we were never the "Leave It To Beaver" type family. (Yeah, mom, remember that snowy morning in Salt Lake City when I was only six years old and you told me before I went to school that you didn't care if I never came home, so I didn't? I didn't run away, exactly, I just didn't want to be where I wasn't wanted? Remember that? When I came home, because I realized there was no other place to go, there were police all over, you thought I had been abducted, but it was just your mean mouth? Mom, I was just a kid. I didn't understand you were mad at dad and took it out on me. I thought you hated me. And remember the anniversary party you and dad had at the bar that one year? The time you kept telling guys, strangers, that I was single and needed a husband? And when I told you to stop, you gave me an extremely mean look and said through gritted teeth "I didn't have to have you" in front of these people who worked with dad? I was in my mid twenties for God's sake and you were still at it. No, mom, you weren't June Cleaver. Not even close. And I feel guilty because I can't love you the way you want me to.) She agreed, said we weren't a gushy, gushy family. No, we weren't close. Gush has nothing to do with it. I dropped her off and she got out of the car. I felt badly for this old woman, my mom. I'd love to have a better relationship with her, but she won't help. And I can't do it by myself. I've tried so many times in the past and it just doesn't work. She slips back into mean and I can't handle that. I can take a lot of crap from people I don't know, but mom just has a way of slipping the knife in and turning it. It's hard to be close in that situation.

I think Rusty might be the one with the bladder infection. He seems really tired and walks like he hurts. Not as bad as DeeJay did. I'll try the pills on him. Maggie does seem to be improving.

Peter came into the bedroom this morning, hit the bed purring. Oh, he's so cute. Rusty, who has to sleep on my pillow, got all hissy and slapped at Peter, hitting my in the face. It wasn't a hard hit, though and there were no claws out. It was more of a tap. Rusty got up and walked off, irritated.

We're having dinner with my in-laws. Ah, the holiday season.

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Saturday, November 27, 1999 I'm so bored right now. Brian, his brother and their nephew are putting in the new sliding doors. Brian painted the house yesterday.

Here's a picture of the new color and the guys putting in the doors. Cats are freaking out. I had to put Jackie, Ciara and Peter in the garage. We don't want to take a chance on them getting out. I bribed them with chicken. Jackie wasn't quick on the uptake of "go in the garage, get chicken". Brian and I were both trying to talk him into going in. They've been in there almost an hour now. I'm not worried about Jackie, but Jackie takes Petey into the rafters and I don't want him to fall from there. They are putting the finishing touches onto the big door. I should be able to let them out soon.

Thanksgiving dinner was pretty good. We were a little late, they were already sitting down to dinner when we showed up. We weren't even five minutes late. But Brian's dad was home and they had to eat to keep him happy. He's not doing well at all. He looked and sounded bad.

I talked to my mom Thursday and yesterday morning. She's sounding so much better since her trip to the doctor Wednesday. She's much more positive. I'm hoping that maybe our discussion on the way home helped. She did say that she had a hard time sleeping Wednesday night, but thought things out clearly and realized that she is cancer free and that what happens, happens. And she's not in a big hurry to call and make that appointment with the panel. She knows she has to, but she's relaxing a bit after the last couple of months. What she would really like to do is to put it off until next year. I don't blame her one bit. We found out Wednesday that her stitches will dissolve on their own, so she said when she showers, she soaked the tape they had on her and she's got it all off. I bet a good shower did wonders for her attitude. I like it.

I've been playing around with some new CGI programs I found. Like the new "recommend this site" buttons you can find on the more visited pages of the site, like the spay/neuter page, the declaw menu, humor, trivia and the acronyms, just to mention a few. Clicking on the button will take you to a form that has the URL of the page you are referring and you can send it to five people at a time, adding a comment if you like. After you've submitted, you are taken back to the page you referred. And I made a crossword puzzle for Ben's Den yesterday. It's on the coffee table in the den.

Aunt Flo dropped by for a visit Thursday am. Nice.

I was told yesterday that Cats Magazine has chosen my site as one of the top 71 Hot Sites in their January issue. That's pretty nice. I've made the big time. *grin*

Welp, the doors are in. Guess I should go help clean them. And the living room is a big mess, tons of dust from cutting the drywall. At least it's something to do.

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Monday, November 29, 1999 Well, the new doors are in. Brian and I went to breakfast yesterday morning, then over to Home Depot. That place is deadly on the wallet, let me tell ya. We bought some new vertical blinds. The ones in the laundry room aren't working properly. Haven't been for a while. And Brian tossed the horizontal ones that have been on the office door since we moved in. Horizontals are so hard to clean. They were also a dark blue, which really turned the office into a dungeon. The new ones are white and match the rest of the ones in the house. We got the manual ones, so that there aren't any cords hanging down for cats to get caught in. While we were there, I looked in the gardening stuff to see if there was some sort of timer I could put on my little garden. We got one before for the drip system out front, but it was based on water volume and since the water was only at a trickle, it didn't measure properly and didn't turn off. I wanted one that operates on a time basis, not volume. And I found one. By Melnor, it's battery operated. Can be programmed to water twice a day, either every day, every other day, or every third day. It hooks directly to the faucet and the hose connects to it. I was very eager to get home and get it hooked up. I did and it works well. No more forgetting about the water back there. Many times Brian would turn it off hours after I turned it on. The water would run into the neighbor's yard (the only watering that gets done over there *grin*) costing us money. No more.

We cleaned the new doors, Brian the one in the living room, I did the one in the office. Then he put up the new blinds. What a difference. This room is so much lighter and even when the sun is shining in here in the afternoon, I'll be able to block out the glare, but still have it light. A medal to the designer of verticals. Brian does such good work.

Speaking of work, I have to input invoices for his business and pay as many bills as possible today. We haven't sent out any invoices to customers in a couple of weeks now. No bills out means no money in. *ouch*

Brian sandblasted the paint off of the bottom of the house Saturday. He swept up as much as he could. But there are two areas that are dirt on the patio (don't ask me why, maybe the original owners planted something there) and they were full of sand and old paint. Well, the darn cats rolled in the crud and yesterday, DeeJay was squatting in the backyard, I get scared, oh, no, he's got his bladder infection again. I check him, his butt is covered with runny stool. And he wasn't the only one who had the runs. A couple of other cats also had it. But looking back to see the possible cause, we came up with the cause being rolling in the crud and licking it off. He was fine this morning after his morning jaunt. Clean butt. I'll keep an eye on all of them anyway.

I did a little office cleanup this morning. Even made a cardboard box to store my internet stuff in. I can't believe how many things I print out. Like "how-to" manuals for the java or CGI programs I download. And I'm not going to leave food up here any longer for them to eat. To big of a mess. There's food on the floor in a feeder for them, there's no reason to have more up here. They come in from outside, dirty pawed and dusty, walk all over my deskpad and leave food crumbs. Right now, Lucky is laying on the towel in front of the monitor. She's such a good cat, you would hardly even know she's around most of the time. I moved the keyboard and petted her and we did noserubs for a couple of minutes. She's sleeping now. When we first got her, back in '87, she would purr and purr and purr. All you had to do was to look at her or talk to her. This was when the cats could go out front. When she was still a kitten, not been spayed yet, we heard a catfight out front one afternoon and she came running in through the front door. Her little bottom was all wet with boy cat yuck. Ever since that attack on her, she hasn't purred at the sound of a voice or a look. I think it really traumatized her. We had her fixed within two weeks. She's such a sweet, sweet cat. She doesn't want to be held and she rarely lays in a lap. She usually keeps to herself. It's nice to see her in here, happy.

When I talked to my mom this morning, she told me that her neighbors are going to help out with her therapy appointments, so that she won't be tying me up for six weeks. I think that was really considerate of her and I told her so. Brian and I talked about her this morning while exercising. From what she said last week, I got the impression she wasn't too gung ho about calling and making the panel appointment. Brian got upset when I told him this this morning. He said she should just make the appointment and get it over with. I agree with him, but I can't very well make my mom do something she doesn't want to do. So, I was glad when she told me this morning that she's going to call the hospital to make the appointment on Wednesday. She found out this weekend about a woman she knew years ago had the same type of surgery mom had, back in September. She had just finished with her radiation therapy and is doing fine. Mom said too, that the breast that was operated on is swollen. It doesn't hurt her, but she likes the way it fits in her brassiere. *grins* She joked about going in and asking if they would please do the other breast. My mom. I like her when she's not nervous or upset. I told Brian this weekend that I felt guilty about not being the daughter she wants. He asked "why?" *sigh* He just doesn't understand about mother/daughter relationships. But at least I didn't spend any more time feeling guilty.

One of the reasons I cleaned up my work area somewhat this morning is because I lost the reference number information for the replacement watch from Lorus. I thought that being so close to Christmas, they may possibly have new models out. I couldn't find the paper, so I called Lorus. They gave me the number and I wrote it down. It's now tacked to the wall so I won't misplace this one. Then I started looking around for new models and on one site found the information that new models won't be out until next year, maybe in January. All other models of Lorus/Disney have been discontinued. Huh. That's interesting, I wonder why?

This weekend, I found the tv java I had seen earlier this year. I went to the website and checked it out. I liked it. There was a little popup slot game and if you got thirty points, you could have the program for free. Well, anybody could, it just wasn't registered. So, I tried playing this little slot game, it was pretty nice, but after about a gazillion tries, I didn't get anywhere. When I tried closing the popup, my system froze. Bad code somewhere. After I rebooted, I went back to the site, emailed the author, explained what had happened. I got an autoresponse mail, telling me that the applet no longer was supported. Oh, well. I thought it would be a pretty nice addition for Ben's Den. Anyway, imagine my surprise when the next day's email brought a registration number and my name in the owned by. I emailed the guy back, thanking him. I hadn't realized it, but the images can be links. So, my latest idea is to have a television in the den and clicking on it will take you to the television room. And there you can watch the television and clicking on whatever looks interesting will take you to another page. I'm trying to get others involved by making webpages about sports, commercials, sitcoms, you know, tv stuff. Anyway, I only got two emails about it and both offered suggestions, but nobody offered to do any pages. :-( It will just take longer if I have to do it myself, but if I have to, I have to. I know one person, though, who is very, very talented and she's thinking about what she can do. If you are interested, let me know by sending email to tv shows. Of course, site authors will get the credit, but I want to have the pages here at lisaviolet.com. I just don't trust other sites to work properly all the time and I don't want any more broken links than I already have. *smile* I could probably figure out something like you see at the end of tv shows that rolls credits and they would be, of course, linkable, linking back to that author's website.

I'm waiting to hear about merchant account status (still) and the trademark status (still). I hope I get the go ahead soon. I'm having second thoughts about being ready for Christmas. It might be a bad time to jump in. Scary.

Well, I guess it's time to get to work processing invoices.

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lisaviolet is fifty something, married with no kids, takes care of lots of cats, likes taking photographs, loves Southern California weather and spends altogether too much time avoiding her responsibilities.








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