First thing tomorrow I'm going to the store and buy some expensive, odor control, regular clumping litter.
My cat is strictly an indoor cat, compromised immune system, needs medication twice a day, so I can't let her out to do her job. Thus, a litterbox. But that clay litter is history as of tomrrow.
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I actually wrote some letters today. Got a letter off to Allen, and also one to his son. As I was going through some other papers, I came across a letter dated 31 December to my son, thanking him for the box from Harry & David. So I added some more lines, and managed to get it to the mailbox this time.
I am not a letter writer, but with Word, I do a little better. Reading a hand-written letter from me is like deciphering hieroglyphics. I used to have beautiful handwriting. When I was in grade school, the writing program was Palmer Method. Does anyone remember that? My brain remembers it but my fingers don't.
What is it with spelling and punctuation that's so difficult for people? My best grades in school were always in spelling and language. Does it have something to do with right-left brain function? It must be, because math, to me, is a foreign language, and I can learn a foreign language quicker than I can learn algebra.
Oh, yes, I used primary algebra figuring dosages and such as a nursing student, but after getting my degree, I let the doctors do all the figuring. I just followed orders. Much simpler. But I do recall once questioning a doctor's order, what seemed to me a misplaced dot. And, yes, it was. If I hadn't had at least elementary knowledge of algebraic formulae for figuring dosages, I would have overdosed a patient. He corrected the error, but didn't bother about thanking me for being careful. Ah well.
I'm listening to Clair de Lune, and almost falling asleep here. So I think I'll bid y'all goodnight.
Shalom
**Hey! a new reader. Hi. Welcome!