13 September, 2004

Last week I turned thirty and had a joint party on Saturday with a friend who turned 29 two days later. A good night though a bit hazy in memory. My tattoo has healed in pretty well and has stopped itching which is all good. Despite all odds a friend bought two of my t-shirts. I am stoked.

The garden is starting to move with spring and I am back to the waiting game with it while veges and various cuttings set themselves for replanting. I am waiting with hope.

Our cat, Max, a young fuzzy, insecure little tabby, has been in at the vet for the last few days after getting incredibly sick very quickly. It’s not looking good for the wee guy, who has had a pretty tough life as it is, and we are now having to wait to find out whether he will make it. This is the sort of waiting that makes life hard.