I finally heard from the bank today that they have denied me credit and I will not get my mortgage. I was amazed that things didn't go as I had planned. Underneath my worrying, I really felt that in the end I would get the money. I was obliged to feel bad, and I did, but disappointment is something I have never allowed myself. It is too pathetic. I rallied almost immediately, turning my attention to the next step. Before the day was over, I had made arrangements with Phyllis to rent the house instead. I took the section 8 papers over to her to sign, agreed on the rent amount, and will be better off even than I am here financially. When all is said and done, I have to agree with the bank that I do not really have the money to own a house. Now I can pay Diana back for the downpayment and not worry about owing that money, too. A sense of relief crept into my consciousness and is now full-blown.
I took Lytton to the vet and found out that he has scratched corneas. Having had the condition myself, I know how painful it is for him. It must have happened during the fight the three dogs had last week. I have three different medications to give him and expect that he will be okay in the very near future. My thoughts of his death have been pushed out of the way for the moment, and I can enjoy him again without the premature nostalgia I have been suffering for the last several days.
Other events of the day: a tour of the arts center in preparation for the upcoming elderhostel, hanging of the portrait show at the gallery, a visit to the house where the floor is partially laid (the tiles are three slightly different colors, a hazzard of buying them at Marden's I suppose), and feeding and watering the chickens. Several calls from doctors about my leg, and telephone tag with the hearing center rounded things out to complete a tumultuous day.