Things to do, and toxic begonia

Here's the gist of my e-mail this morning to Cindy:

Good morning.  Yes, we are nice and warm.
I have labs this morning at exactly 10:00, then stop at Riverside to pick up a CD of my latest CT scan to take to kidney-stone doctor on Friday.  Oh yes, need to order four med refills.  That's today's medical.
And maybe I will get at least some of that Xmas stuff cleared off the dining room table.
And a load of personal laundry done.
Meanwhile, it's possible Tom's sister is coming tomorrow for a couple of days.
And I have to do something about this blind cord Tasha finds so appealing.
Don't you hate it when you wake up with a long to do list circling you like a shark?
Thank you!!! for the shoveling.
lvu,
Jeanne
p.s.  And they are threatening to jail me if I don't return a stupid library book.

No wonder I haven't posted for so long. Or bought my new camera, yet (first I have to balance my checkbook, which I haven't done since the surgery).  So far, I haven't got any good pictures of Tasha-kitty, without flash -

or with flash:

This could be better, if I could learn Photoshop and take out that reflection of the flash.  I should know better.  She looks a little odd because her belly was shaved for her surgery.  And this doesn't show her silvery sheen.  It does show her willingness to walk on a 1-inch windowsill, giving no thought to what might be (or might have been) on that sill. 

And I should have taken a picture of the Wreck of the Begonia, a large, aged Angel-wings Begonia that was a gift, and which I loved.  When we realized she was stripping off the leaves, I looked it up, and begonias are one of many, many plants that are toxic to cats.  I had to kill the Angel-wings, nowhere to put it where she couldn't get to.  The three little ones - which I bought at Cat Welfare, BTW - I have moved to a crowded surface she does not get on.  So far.  We are watching.

I have started the camera research, narrowing it down to a Canon I can afford.  So I promise more pix, of her amazing eyes, green ringed with gold, of her star paws, of her new endeavor to climb up on my shoulder.

All in all, a good day.  I got done all the things I had to do and then some.  That laundry is dry about now.

My post-transplant nurse, Karen, told me that people don't usually feel well ("human," my word) for six to nine months.  I said, "They don't tell us that."

She said, "I know.  But I do.  That's why they don't want me in pre-transplant." 

But I actually do feel good today - my GP's nurse called to say the urine culture was negative, meaning, I am healed from the horrible UTI that manifested December 20.  Maybe I'll stay healed. Wouldn't that be nice?  But I don't count on it.  Believe me, every good day's - a real good day.