Well, I do believe this summer is going to fly by in a haze of work and illness...that is it say, it has done so already and it appears it will continue to do so. I've been sent home from work until my appointment with a cardiologist next week because I am not really healthy enough to be of much use unless the task happens to be a very restful one. So...on this beautiful summer day I am sitting quietly in my house trying to breathe normally and not get dizzy (and, apparently, feeling very sorry for myself!).
I have some appointments this week pre-cardiology appt. to get some tests run, I think to check out my respiratory situation. So we'll see if those shed any light.
I'm not closing my mind to the possibility that my emotions have wrought havoc on my body. My miscarriage early in the summer was one of the saddest things I've ever experienced, and hasn't been easy to put behind me. No doctors have mentioned a connection yet, and I rather prefer it that way, but I can't help wondering if they could be related, happening so close together.

I am having fun observing my cat in her everyday routine. (Now is your cue to be prepared for a VERY exciting post...) She plays extremely hardcore with any object she can get her paws on, anything she can squeeze into, or anything she can wrap herself up in. And she becomes quite cheeky when deterred from these important tasks. When I picked her up to laugh at her, she mewed impatiently, fixed me with a stern look, and proceeded to crane around vigorously to see what she was missing on the floor while trapped in my rude hands. And this is the thanks I get for giving her the tea she was begging for earlier. Oh well. She must have forgotten whose head she ran to sit on when terrified of the storm last night. But she's still convinced that I think I was the one being comforted.
Wow... it's sad how very quickly I turn into the crazy cat lady when given some time to myself and my Miss Lucinda Kricket. I've been told I need to get out more and I am beginning to believe it...and I would too, were it not for my aptitude to swoon. Ha.

My dill plant is dead. My sage, basil, and chives thrive, but my dill died. (Yes, I am aware that sentence was poetic genius.) Oh well, I guess I should be grateful it lasted most of the summer. I'm shocked really.