Suzy Says

When I’m 64 is…now.

I turned 64 on June 4 (64 on 6/4!), which is somehow a little surprising to someone who still feels about 18 inside. Fortunately, I am still not very wrinkly on the outside yet, despite being Botox-free (so far).

I’m trying not to think about that fact that Dad had 6 years left to live at my age (!), or contemplate the dwindling life expectancy in my family. My great-grandparents lived into their 90s, my grandparents into their 80s, but Dad barely made it to 70 and Mom battled cancer for 7 years, losing the war at the age of 73.

So I kind of feel like I’m living on borrowed time at this point. Also, shouldn’t it be that every generation lives longer, with all the improvements in medicine and scientific breakthroughs?

Reaching the Beatles-worthy age of 64 made me start thinking about pensions and whether I might get any. I called Canada Pension, but I need my Canadian Social Security Number in order to find anything out. I can’t seem to find it, though I do have an expired health insurance card and an equally expired permanent resident card. The person I talked to at Canada Pension said that these cards are not supposed to expire, so I now have to call someone else to see about getting a new one.

I also have to get a passport. Mine expired 24 years ago, shortly after my father did, and my view was that I didn’t want to pay hundreds of dollars for something I wasn’t going to use. This proved to be the case, since I rarely venture outside the county, let alone outside of California.

This seems like a pretty huge project, especially for someone who is officially old. Maybe I will see if I can find anything in the Closet of Doom before venturing into the expensive and annoying Land of Bureaucracy. Wish me luck!

FIVE YEARS AGO: A beautiful day in the Valley. Is there any other kind?

TEN YEARS AGO: The amazing Quilt Show.

FIFTEEN YEARS AGO: Back home after Rob’s spinal surgery in San Francisco.

TWENTY YEARS AGO: Change really can be for the better.

Yet another long break! Maybe the more time off you have, the more you want. Or I just got out of the habit of writing. Or I skipped so much class I didn’t feel I could go back to class. Maybe 25 years of writing about nothing is enough. Or…

A year later, here I am again. Here’s what’s been happening in my little corner of the world.

Duchess is still Duchess. She is now comfortable enough that I no longer need the Feliway diffusers or the calming powders in her food, but the rest of the routine remains the same. I am coming to the regretful conclusion that she will never sit on my lap or sleep with me, but she does purr a lot and always sits next to me on the couch in the evenings. Lately, there’s been a lot of Canadian content chez moi. I just finished watching the most recent season of Law & Order Toronto, followed by all four seasons of Cardinal. Both were excellent.

In other feline news, I am sorry to say that the Great Catsby, the bookshop cat, died last month. He was such a beloved local character, and is missed by all. Going to the bookshop will not be the same without his grumpy fluffiness. He had a long and happy life, though, and died peacefully in his sleep, as befits the distinguished gentleman he was.

And since the Reaper rarely, if ever, leaves us alone (even though he knows perfectly well that he is a perfectly unwanted visitor), he took Stella from us last July. To be fair, it was time, and I do think Megan and Rob managed it perfectly, not letting her go too soon or too late. Her last day was a great one, with lots of love and cuddles:

The vet came to the property, and it was a peaceful exit for sweet Stella, who now rests near sweet Clyde under the chinquapin tree on the family estate. That tree must be sweeter than a maple with those two under it. I am hoping Clyde’s daffodils will spread over to Stella’s resting place.

In good news, Millie is doing just fine without Stella, which I would not have expected, since they were so close. But she likes having all the attention. Many of us do.

FIVE YEARS AGO: Celebrating my birthday.

TEN YEARS AGO: Marking my beloved Clyde’s birthday, and missing his wonderful brother, the one and only Roscoe.

FIFTEEN YEARS AGO: Clyde and Roscoe turned one! Adorably, of course.

TWENTY YEARS AGO: Remembering a wonderful visit with Dad in London.

TWENTY-FIVE YEARS AGO: Cleo the pigeon-hater. She was an amazing cat.