I tried to sleep in today, but a nasty neckache kept me from finding a comfortable position. At nine I was up and taking Advil to try to drive off the worst of it before my 11 o'clock hair appointment. I read in bed, accompanied by Keiko-cat who insisted on crawling under the covers and nestling in the crook of my knees. I made it to my appointment on time which was a miracle considering I failed to set an alarm and fell back asleep. The premises of Yosh|Aveda, formerly known as Yosh For Hair (I guess to separate it from Yosh For Anything Else), were under construction. My neck/head aches were not helped by the banging and pounding of the drywall installation, but I did get a very fine haircut and a very small cup of coffee.
Afterwards, I strolled University Avenue looking at the Christmas decorations and feeling rather cheerful. A well dressed man stopped me as I was looking longingly in the windows of a camera store, and asked me for a dollar. I didn't give it to him. He walked away leaving me puzzled. It was a bitterly cold morning; the overnight temperature had been in the 30's, and there were plenty of old guys sitting on the benches in the park who appeared to be sleeping rough, but he didn't look as though he needed the money. You really can't tell by looks, though. Maybe I should have given him the buck.
In the afternoon John rented a camcorder and we took Dixie for a walk in the hills behind Stanford. He's been wanting to do this for a while so we headed out before the next storm swept down the coast from Alaska. It felt good to be out in the chilly air. Towering rainclouds blew in from the northwest, scudding before a stiff wind and providing a gorgeous palette of greys and blacks. I noticed the dreary brown hills were shot through with green. December is the traditional time for the greening of the hills as the grasses rejuvenate in the mild winter weather of northern California. Here and there white flowers blossomed on leafless brown branchs. Dixie hunted mice, and zigzagged through the meadows, and paused to relieve herself. John recorded it all.
After mooching about the house for an hour we went back out and looked at Christmas trees. The sky was growing dark as the clouds raced overhead and a few fat raindrops splashed on us. We couldn't find the perfect tree so we decided to go have Chinese food for dinner, and ordered enough food to have leftovers for days. I really like leftover Chinese food. The flavors seem to deepen in a delicious way. I barely had time for a nap before it was time to rush off to the final Stanford women's volleyball game at Maples Pavilion. They're in the playoffs for the NCAA championship, and put away Notre Dame in three quick games. We'd gone to see them Friday night against Southeastern Missouri who were so good they almost won. Notre Dame had still been on the floor trying to squelch Eastern Washington when we arrived; the teams were so evenly matched they went to five games and Stanford didn't get on the floor until an hour after they were supposed to start. It was a very exciting set of volleyball games, and I'm really bummed the season is over. I'll be watching the NCAA finals on ESPN in two weeks. Yes, this is my lone college sports enthusiasm. We now return you to your regularly scheduled observation of Lucy's sports ennui.
Somewhere in the midst of this unusually busy Saturday I spoke to Dr. Koga about the cytology report on Dixie's mystery tumor. As always, the news is mixed. It's not possible to tell whether it's malignant or benign; a biopsy almost certainly won't tell us either; to really know for sure means surgery but no one local can handle it as adrenal gland tumors are so tricky they require an anaesthesiologist who can prepare the right cocktail of drugs and deal with anything that comes up during surgery. They recommended a specialist at UC Davis, a hundred miles from here. I said no, we'll let that go. But everyone agrees whatever it is is unrelated to the mast cell tumors Dixie's had surgery for, so we can go ahead with radiation treatments. Oh, joy, I said drily. I'm still not ready to commit to that since it involves logistics that make planning a Presidential visit seem like a stroll to the corner. Maybe tomorrow I'll consider it again. Right now I just want to let her enjoy herself. No vets. No needles. No confusing, mysterious visits to hospitals that leave her groggy and in pain. Just walks in the hills, and her cats romping around her, and her people throwing biscuits for her, and long comfortable snoozes outside on her blanket where she can smell the coming storm and the hundred thousand scents of her dog's world.
