This is the image. My happy home, which it is, with a beautiful, landscaped garden, where I now have only gravel. But soon, maybe, depending…
I won’t even show you the reality. Reality may well suck up my landscape money. It came in the form of a notice from my utility company. They informed me that electricity prices would increase, which I knew. I thought maybe 5%, tops 10%. But no. For the next seven months my electric bill will go up 50%. Then will it go back down? Not from what I’ve seen so far. My money seems especially attractive to them.
I had been looking at solar panels anyway. Honestly, it was throwing the dice to see whether I would live long enough to see them pay for themselves. It could be time to run the numbers again.
Or, maybe just move to a warm climate. Granada is nice, as is Barcelona. Maybe Malta or Sicily? Or, I hear intriguing things about Costa Rica.
I’d hate to start over again. I have friends here, ones I didn’t know before I moved to France. My French has improved to the point that it is only half bad. Maybe I’ll just pay up. Ugh.
This is Jacques at the vet. We had just gotten to the house from Paris and the little apartment bound guy was running off some energy. He found a cat and chased it way deep into the back garden. You see only part of the result. His bloody little butt is the other part.
I’m sure the cat owner would argue that his beloved was acting in self – defense. Me? I would argue that the psychopathic sport – killer was trespassing and disrespecting the security guard. He deserved far worse than a good scare. If I lived in Texas, like my sister, I’d be packing heat; “cat” would be written on every bullet.
However I’m in France, so I found a nearby 24-hour vet. Jacques got a shot for the pain, plus some pills and ointments. We’ll see how he does. It’s amazing how the French kicks in when it has to. Ordinarily I can barely order a coffee.
There are cat people and dog people. I guess you could say I’m a dog person.
So Jacques got a scratched eyelid. The eye itself was not damaged. We can’t really tell what happened at the other end, apart from a solid hit. He’s taking antibiotics. I added Neosporin for his bottom, in addition to the vet-supplied drops and ointment for his eye. Of all things, his tail may be broken. He cries every time we touch it, so we’re waiting to see about that.
I’ll stop now. You don’t want to hear my 10 – point rant on why psychopathic sport – killers — oh, oops, cats — should be kept indoors.