Waiting must come to an end. I know it.
The Brodart jackets showed up today and I started wrapping dust jackets in preserving plastic. I had no IDEA that dust jackets were so TERRIFIED of the plastic. The Brodarts have a plastic half and a paper half, and the dust jacket goes in between, but, DAMN. I've never had paper and plastic fight so hard not to touch each other. You'd think I was forcing them into some unnatural act. But it's an important part of book preservation, so, damn it, they will be wrapped.
Wesa is not doing so well. We took her off the new medication because, as we half-expected, she became zombie kitty, spending all her time sleeping on the floor -- completely un-Wesa-like behavior. She's not eating much. The last few days she's started coming out of it -- she occasionally jumps on the bed, or comes to the door to see us when we get home. But she's not her usual attention-demanding self. She doesn't sleep with The Husband anymore, she doesn't hang out by the windows, she doesn't talk. It's bothersome and it came on very suddenly, so we are hoping without the meds she will turn around. Of course, she's 15, so it's very possible she's in her last weeks. It happens. She ate some canned food tonight and I'll keep trying to get her eating. If she doesn't improve by Friday, she will be back at the vet next week. I don't want to be a Nervous Nelly -- it's expensive, for one thing -- and unless there is something else she has mysteriously contracted, it's the meds and we we warned about that.
Ophelia, by the way, is doing fantastic, and is back to her old pissy self. Her fur is about half grown in from what she lost, and she's even more active than she used to be -- well, if seeking out new and unusual places to take naps can be called active, then she's all over it.
I'm tired of the waiting, though. Summer is almost here, but the glacier is not retreating.