Minerva is right at home!

 So I have a puppy!  She is about 6 months old.  So far she has eaten the carpet on the stairs, 16 branches of the cotton wood tree, a hole in the wall, and many other things that I will no doubt discover at a later date.  She is a heeler and puts the geese to bed each night and wakes them up every morning. She has found my sewing room and the cat's litter box which is 3 floors below me.  I have barricades in place to keep her from that level, but it gets tiring to move a wooden barricade every time I need a pin, or something out of the freezer.

She is a very loving little dog, but she is a registered blue heeler and those of you on a farm know what that is!  I would love to take her to my daughter, Dona, who actually has a farm, but she has 3 dogs already and has her hands full with those.  Sadly they are just petting dogs and not working dogs, but it is what it is.

Right now I am at the computer with a cat on my left who will wake up and walk across the desk and step over the keyboard to set on my lap.  This will cause the dog to put his freezing cold nose under my right elbow and root it out of the way so he can get closer.  And that has now happened!  I left the computer briefly, but they await my return!

Now, she has moved her Puppy bed to the stairs and after falling out of it and rolling down the stairs 3 times, she has given up on that endeavor.  I was going to take a picture and post it for you, but this computer is way smarter than me and has hidden everything in a cloud some where and since John Tenorio passed away, I have no one to guide me through this process.  

So now here I set, wondering just what I had on my little mind when I started this blog entry.  I am sure it was important, but I think all I actually succeeded in doing is to make another copy of the 63,224 photos I now have in triplicate, and gave myself a headache.  I do now know that today is Saturday,  which came as a big surprise, since I thought I was on Friday!

So, off I go to let the geese out, after which I will shower and then wonder why I bothered since I have no where to go and nothing to do.  That is how it goes in my world.  How about yours?

Peace!

Momma said

 When I come to a place in my life where I am not sure which way I should go, it seems momma always pops up in my mind.  She always had the answer.  Whether she knew the question or not was usually a whole 'nother kettle of worms!  She passed before my husband, so I spent many years muddling through without her wisdom.  It is just a good thing that I lucked out and had a good, honest man in Kenny.  I do not know how I made it this far!

The one thing she did leave me with is something I will share with you.  When one of my friends or one of my husbands had disappointed me beyond belief and I expressed this to her that "I thought I knew him better than that", she said, "You never know anyone.  You know of them.  You know the part they let you see."  Those words have came back to haunt me more than once.  Sometimes it breaks my heart to know momma was always right, but she was.

I try to take tentative steps in my life and if nothing pops up in my path, I do pretty good.  I seem to have raised 6 kids who are pretty much responsible and successful and I think for the most part my life is pretty good.  I know one thing for sure, I took/take very good care of the geese !  I got the first 3 goslings when Bret was 8 years old.  He is 30 now and they are still alive.  

My plan was to sell this place when the geese were gone and travel around the country spending time with the kids and grandkids.  Not happening!  Like momma said "The best laid plans of mice and men ofttimes go astray."  I have a hard time typing because I have a cat that insists of laying on the keyboard.  I have a 2400 square foot house and this is the only place she can find to lay.

Fall is in the air and it will not be long before I am out there shoveling my way to the goose house so I can break the ice on the tank so they can drink. I buy 150 pounds of goose food a month which I unload and put in a barrel to feed them.   And I cannot even pet them!  They have never pecked me, but they are not conducive to physical contact.  Well, hell, neither is the cat!  When I try to pet her, she bites me.

So, it is 6 AM and the sun is going to pop up here pretty quick and start my day.  I guess it beats the alternative doesn't it? 

Or does it?

Nobody's Cat.

 The same sun came up this morning, just like it has every day for so many years, but this time it is different.  It is an empty sun shining on an empty world.  I do not know how many people there are on this little ball we call earth, but I am sure it numbers in the billions or trillions.  That does not matter to me.  What matters is the one person who is not here.  The one person who made my world turn.  The one person who could brighten my day and give meaning to my life.  The one person who understood when I was sad and laughed when I was happy.  The one person whose hand was warm and whose eyes were bright.  The man who wrote "wash me" on my back car window.  The man who fixed my coffee with just the right amount of froth to the creamer.

When I met this man many years ago he was taking care of his invalid mother.  He was so kind to her and so solicitous of her every need that I thought he must surely have wings under his shirt.  Our first serious conversation concerned an old cat that lived on his patio.  I asked whose it was and he said "no ones" it just lived there.  

I asked him about the small crate the cat slept in. "Well, I put it there so it could get out of the weather."

How did it come to be on his porch?  Well, it followed him home from the store.  It was a kitten then and he had to pick it up several times because it was tired and lagged behind.  He did not want it to get lost.  Did it ever come in the house?  Well, sometimes because it was cold he let it sleep with him.  I thought it pretty much qualified as being his cat and when he had to have it put to sleep he cried just like it was his pet.  But he still said no.

Over the years we became friends.  We learned to understand each others idiosyncrasy's.  It was tit for tat and yang for yang.  He was an  independent man and I was an independent woman.  We were friends in a way that many people strive for and few people achieve.  I shall never stop reaching for his hand and never stop waiting for the phone to ring.

Fly free, my little friend.  God has gained a priceless treasure in his store house of love.

My daddy did not have a gun.

He did not have a gun.  What he did have was a buggy whip and a 2 x4.  My brother tasted both of them.  I did not.  I did live in mortal terror that I would.  I could tell when he was mad or that something was bothering him because he would rub his thumb and fore finger together and talk to himself.  He was a strange man.  He did not seem to have any friends that I knew about.  He had a few acquaintances.  He also had a couple farmers he worked for on occasion.  John Britain and Ed Crissman.  Mostly he just hung out at the local pool hall where the "ne'er do wells"  hung out.  He worked there some afternoons.  He did let me go in there once when nobody was there.  He actually played a game of dominoes with me.  Of course he won.  He always won.  Score was kept on a stick with a series of holes.  Each time one of us made a score the stick was moved forward a  number of holes.  The score was always a multiple of 5, so 10 points was 2 holes  and so on.  I still enjoy playing dominoes, but rarely find anyone who knows how.

I always thought my dad was a very big man, but I think he was 5'10" which is not tall at all.  He had a ruddy complexion and hair with a reddish tint.  I inherited neither of those.  My sisters and brother did, but I was a miniature of my mother.  I had brown hair and hazel eyes that turned to blue or green, depending on my mood.  Dad's skin was light and mine was darker.  I tanned very easily and the sisters burned easily.

My father did not like pets.  We never had a dog and the cat mom kept as a mouser was not allowed in the house.  Mother did have a canary at one time.  It had a cage that hung on an iron post that kept it off the floor.  The cat did come in one time on my watch and made short work of the canary.  Mother was livid.  Seems the bird was the only thing that really gave her pleasure in her mundane world.  She had received it from Grandma Haas.  Not sure mother ever forgave me for that little fiasco.  I do know she never forgot.

Dad never interacted with any of us kids but Mary.  Mary looked a lot like Dad with his rather ruddy complexion and the hair that had an almost red tint, but not quite.  Mary was always delicate.  I do not mean sickly, because I was the sickly one.  I had my tonsils removed when I was 10 or 11 and then became the healthy person I am today.  Donna and Dorothy were bordering on being pudgy, but Mary was just delicate.  There is no other way to put it.  Josephine was the oldest and she was a half sister.  Jake was the son.  I was the oldest daughter born to the union.  Then came Donna, Mary and Dorothy.  That made me the middle child and I lived the "middle child syndrome" my whole life. Still do.  I am not quite happy with anything I do so I try harder.  Just can not do anything completely and revel in success.  I always fall just a little bit short.  You would think after this many years I would give up on that!

Don't know why I got this in my head today, but here it is.  Guess I will go downstairs and do something constructive.

Randy Travis calls this "Pickin' Up Bones."  Just makes me wonder if we ever really escape our childhood?  There are only 2 of us left now.  We live 400 miles apart and visit sporadically if at all, but it is enough to know she is there. And I am here.

The dog, the cat and the little old lady.

OK.  You win!  I suddenly came to the realization that I have become a little old lady who talks to her dog.  Not only do I talk to the dog, but I speak in complete, grammatically correct sentences.  And that is not the worst part.  What suddenly caught my attention was when I found myself waiting for the dog to answer.  Now I have always talked to the cat, but the cat and I have a special relationship.  The dog is a different matter.

You see, cat's are people oriented  and can in reality go crazy if they are closed up with no human contact.  They appear to be very aloof and not in need of human companionship, but they are phonies to the max.  My cat sleeps with me.  All night in the bed, just she and I.  In the morning I give her a treat for being such a good cat ant we then set down at the computer to write or check ebay or what ever.  She sets on the keyboard.  She is very independent, but clingy at the same time.  It is hard to type when she is stretched out on the keyboard, but it can be done.  I know if I try to move her I am going to get bit.  That is just a given.  It is best to let her get tired of laying on the keyboard and wander off to some other time and place.

The dog is another story.  He is currently at my feet and wide awake.  When I peer down at him he cocks his little head.  Sometimes I move my lips and he thinks I am talking and he can't hear me.  I always feel a little guilty when I do that because he is such a devoted little cuss and he does not want to miss a word.  (God grant me the ability to say something intelligent from time to time so the dog does not lose faith in me.)

Now, I know I have a lot of friends out there so I am going to ask you a question and I want an honest answer.  Do you talk to your animals?  If so, what do you talk about?  Do you think your animals understand what you are saying?  I have noticed that when I talk to the cat, I have a more moderate and mellow voice and I discuss mostly political stuff or church stuff or things that really don't matter.

It is different with the dog.  I become more animated and the dog gets more excited.  I can actually get him to jump around by changing the inflections in my voice.  If I speak in a monotone, the dog just looks at me, but if I appear excited, he starts to jump around.

From all of this I have drawn one conclusion...I really need to get a life.  Maybe I need a boyfriend.  Now I am rethinking the boyfriend.  I am a little old for that.  Man friend.  But not to old.  And he is sure going to have to like dogs and cats.  Oh, yeah and geese.  And the neighbors goats.  And I hope he can cook and carry on a two sided conversation. Or at least beat me at Jeopardy! occasionally.  Or at least be a gracious loser.

It has been a really long day.

It must be spring.

I was setting at the computer today and I felt something brush my hair.  Now since I live alone here with a cat and a dog, something brushing past my head is cause to make me become alert.  Sure enough, a little Sparrow landed on the shadowbox on the wall by my desk.  I opened the front door and tried to shoo him that way, but he did not understand.  Of course Icarus was helping me since she had brought him in with hopes of him being supper for her.  I finally got him herded into a place where I could drop a dish towel over him and carry him outside.  I found him a nice place inside an evergreen where he could safely get his bearings before flying back to his family.  

I do not know why that silly cat becomes a hunter in the Spring of the year or maybe it is the birds are young and not wise to the ways of cats and are more easily caught.  Now the wind is whistling through a window that is not quite shut and scaring me.  I guess maybe I am a little paranoid because I went out to Los Pobres for lunch with my friends out there and on the way home I got to thinking about that little white line in the middle of the road.  Life is sort of like that line.  As long as I stay on my side and the car coming towards me stays on the other side, we are both good to go and will pass by never really seeing each other at all.  But if one of us were to cross that line we would both suffer.  Life is like that.  As long as I do the things expected of me and you do the things expected of you, we will never have a problem.  We drift through life never really knowing the people we see on a daily basis and then one day, we are gone.  

Some times I think maybe I am lonely, but I do not want to change my life to incorporate another human into it.  I go to bed when I am tired and get up when I am through sleeping.  If there were another person here, I would need to take their needs into consideration.  I eat what I want, when I want and rarely close the door when I shower.  I may get up at 3:30 AM or sleep till 6:00.  I have been known to eat lunch in my pajamas's and sometimes the sink is full of dirty dishes and the laundry covers the floor in the bathroom.  I do not always answer the phone just because it rings.

So, this is my mood tonight.  Needless to say, I do not like the wind.  I have never really seen a use for it,  but then nobody really asked me, did they?

Learning to let go is not going to be that easy.

I have been active all my life so letting go is not going to be easy.  I live in a 2400 square foot house, and trust me, every inch of it is in use.  Most of it is used for "stuff" setting around full of more "stuff" or with stuff on top of it.  I am contemplating moving into a smaller place, but that means I have to leave some of the "stuff" behind, or give it away, or burn it, or sell it.  Now some of my "stuff" is good stuff.

So some one told me I should hold an item in my hands for 20 seconds and if it does not make me happy, throw it out.  I guess I will try that.  First I am going to pick up those 2 little toys on the computer desk and then go put them in the Jiraiya toy box because I know he is happy having them there.  My biggest problem seems to be in just deciding where to begin.  I could start on this desk, but that is not going to work because this is all important stuff.  Most important is that damned cat laying in the middle of everything.  But you must understand, she loves me and wants to be a part of everything I do.  She also likes to go way up high and bat stuff off onto the floor.

I could go start at the front door.  First we have a bag of clothes for Sister Nancy.  Then a small table that holds 6 egg cartons for Penny, mail I will probably never read and a bag of crochet that I carry when I go sit with someone.  Next is 4 milk crates of books that belong to PFLAG which will go to thier new home soon.  Very soon.  I have a card table, and a drafting table and 2 sewing machines in the corner.......

The point is, it is not just a matter of holding it for 20 seconds.  It is a matter of which part of my life is that item going to be used as a vital part later on today.  I should go down stairs and start digging there.  I have a box of basket weaving stuff that I absolutely had to have and then never touched after I bought it.  I want to give that to Erica, but first I have to find it.  I have giant gourds that I have had for most of my adult life that I am going to do something with any minute.  And if I can just find that box containing every Workbasket magazine ever published, I can put it on ebay and retire on the profits.  

I am sorry.  The 20 second second  rule is just not going to work for me.  I have a second plan that will no doubt be more condusive to my way of life.  I am going to get old and die.  The kids can come in here and do the 20 second thing and I am sure they are not connected to this shit like I am.  But then again, there is the possibility that they may actually see a use for all this stuff and they can take it home.  Course I am not sure any of them have room for 2 floor looms, 4 sergers, 5 sewing machines, a 6 needle embroidery machine, 7,000 bolts of fabric and 11, 426 spools of thread.  But I could be wrong.  

So here is the plan.  I am going to publish this blog and if I have anything you are interested in, give me a call.  Otherwise, I will be setting right in the middle of the whole mess wondering just where my things took possession of me rather than me possessing them.  

So having once more foiled myself in my desire to empty out this house and move into an efficiency  apartment in town, I will go have a Happy Valentine's Day coffee at Starbucks with my friend Nancy and buy 3 bags of goose food for the 8 geese out back that would never fit in the kitchen in town.  Oh, and the dog and cat seem to be at home here.  

But maybe some day.  Just not going to happen today.

The hands of time are kind.

Has it really been 15 years?  Thanksgiving is a bad time for me, but then most days are anymore.  It was a couple days before Thanksgiving 15 years ago when my husband was taken to St. Mary Corwin hospital, brought back to life and started the journey to death.  There is no other way to put that and it was what it was.  I could not find his DNR so the rescue squad did what they do.  This has been a lesson well learned.  I have a copy of mine stapled to my head.  This began 3 weeks of ICU and then transfer to Colorado Springs to try to wean him off life support.  Needless to say that did not work and 2 months later I was a widow.  It has been a long 15 years.

I look back  on those years and it is almost like it was yesterday.  We had adopted Bret, so that kept me busy.  He was 10 or so when Kenny passed.  I sent him to public school.  I sent him to charter school.  I sent him to private school.  The little fellow kept me very busy.  I would have no doubt went nuts had I not had him, so for that I am grateful.

Being a 60 year old widow with a 10 year old son was not conducive to dating, so I did not do it.  After 9 years I put my toe in the water and met Sherman.  We know how that turned out and 3 years later he was gone.  I miss having someone to lean on, but I get by with a little help from my friends (I heard that in a song.)  There was one guy that I cared about, but he turned out to be not at all what he presented himself to be, so that fizzled out.

I think about dating some times, but not very often.  It would be nice to have someone that would call a couple times a week and maybe take me out to eat once in a while.  Or a walk along the levee.  I really miss that.  I have lady friends that I go to lunch with on occasion, but I still miss having a man to open a door for me.  I miss having a conversation where I say something and then he says something and then we both laugh.  A sense of humor is so important to me.

Kenny and Sherman were both very intelligent and witty.  They both loved me although not in the same way.  Kenny was fishing, bull riding, family, cooking, gardening, and country music.  Sherman was more high brow, sipping wine and old motorcycles.  We watched a movie once a week and one night we were watching "Cheech and Chong", which was my choice and he told me "Fiddler on the Roof "  would be wasted on you!"  I laughed at him, but I never chose Cheech and Chong again.  I did try to watch Fiddler on the Roof, but it bored me to tears.  He was right about that.

If I could meet someone like either one of those two, but I think God  broke the mold after he made them.

So, Thanksgiving is over for another year.  I had lots of company and they are starting to leave now.  Patty is going to stay a couple days extra so there is that.

I am changing my life and the process is already started.  I am sorting my possessions into 3 piles.  One is to keep and one is to sell and one is trash.  I guess there 3 more piles.  Those piles are "stuff" that belongs to other people.

There are books that belong to the college and are supposed to leave when the book sale is held in the Spring, but I hear the sale is not happening this year. Ever hear of a "book burning".

 Another pile belongs to a guy in Pueblo West and is stuff he wants, but not enough to take it home.  It has been in my garage for about 9 or 10 years.

 And then there are 2 piles that belong to a kid on the west side.  He wants his stuff, too, but not enough to come and get it.  I call it "garage sale shit."

I want to downsize.  Frank and Cliff brought me a roll off this summer and I filled it.  I may need another one of those.  Right now I am sorting and boxing.  I have a pile in the garage that grows every day.  In the spring I am going to have a junk sale and get rid of it.  What does not sell goes to the ARC.   My dogs are old.  If they make it to Spring it will surprise me.  When they are gone, I am gone.  This house will be put up for sale and since it is prime real estate, it will sell quickly "as is, where is, with all faults and weaknesses."

Some where there is a place for me in this world.  Course I come with a cat.  That cat and one suit case is about all that I need.  I suppose I can not completely change everything and I am sure wherever I am and what ever I am doing, I will pause for a run out to Los Pobres to see Sister Nancy and Rosie.  I expect I will still be gathering wax for the candles for the homeless.  I expect I will still have a crochet bag to work on, but who knows.  I guess I will just set back and see where the tides of life blow me.

In the meantime, if you see me on the street, I can sure use a smile and a hug.

See that cat? That cat will be the death of me yet!

See how innocently she is looking at me?  That is because I just grabbed this side of that 7 feet tall china cabinet and pulled it out from the wall.  Why did I do that, you ask?  Because she was on the other end trying to see behind it.  Why was she doing that, you ask?  Because she brought a mouse in and turned it loose and it ran behind there.  This is not my first rodeo with the china cabinet and the cat and a mouse.  

The way this works is she gets on this end of the china cabinet and tries to peer behind it.  At this point I usually begin to scream at her and beg her to get the damn thing and she looks at me like I have lost what little sense I had, and walks off.  But today I decided that she was going to catch that damn mouse or I would know the reason why.  It is just a matter of mind over mouse, after all.

So I barricaded this end so the mouse could not come this way.

And then I went to the other end and pulled it out so she could saunter in and catch said mouse.  Looks likely doesn't it?

Well, sadly, while I was pulling this out, said mouse ran between my feet and under the table.  On a quest, I got the broom and scooted him out from under the table, causing him to run behind the dog food dishes.  The cat was a quiet observer, not of the mouse, but of me.  I could see she was confused and could not understand English.  I am sure she knew something was going on and seemed content to watch as I chased Mr. Mouse from one hiding place to another until he was in the open space at which time I used the broom like a golf club and send him soaring out the back door.  This seemed to upset Icarus who ran out the door to catch him and bring him back in.  That did not happen!

I am proud to say that to the best of my knowledge my home is mouse free tonight.  Unfortunately, I do not have enough strength to slide the china cabinet back where it belongs.  Adrenalin or something is lacking.Tomorrow I am going to purchase a small shotgun which really should make my life easier.   I do not know if I will use it to hunt mice or the damn cat, but I guess we will see.  In any case, tonight I sleep except for when I wake up and wonder just when that cat may decide to bring me breakfast in bed!

Life is not always as it appears, or I am the eternal optimist!

A couple days ago I was working in my little kitchen.  My home is a split level so the office is 4 feet higher then the main level.  I heard something  crash into the office window so I sprinted up the stairs to investigate.  I looked out the window and down at the ground and saw a dark bird standing there.  He appeared to be immobile but in no pain.  A closer look and I saw that he was standing on another bird.  Well, that was strange.  I watched for a little bit and the dark bird moved around and positioned himself on top of bird #2 and began to make jumping movements.
My first impression, being the optimist I am, was that bird #1 was giving artificial respiration to bird #2 and trying to revive it.  It was probably his wife.  As I stood at my window watching I realized I was seeing a miracle that few people would ever witness and I silently prayed for success and waited with bated breath for the gray bird to show signs of life.  Then the realist in me took over.  The bird flat on it's back with wings outstretched was a dove.  The dark bird perched on it's chest was darker, had stripes on it's tail feathers and a hooked beak which was now ripping the throat out of the bird it it's clutches.  It was a chicken hawk!  At that moment I realized what a damn fool I was.
The chicken hawk had chased the dove into my window with such force that the dove had fallen to the ground and became easy prey for Mr. Chicken Hawk.  Closer examination of said window proved this was not the first time this had happened.  The doves tend to hang out in the cherry tree outside the window and the predator birds know this.  When the hawk chases a dove it flies into my window and falls to the ground.  I now have the curtains closed on all my big windows.  I do not like having my windows closed as I feel trapped inside, but that is how it is for now.
And of course, I understand nature enough to know that while the doves eat seeds and such hawks are meat eaters.  I am a meat eater, but I can go to the store and buy my food.  Nature does not work like that.  It is called survival of the fittest.  The hawk outsmarted the dove.  That is how it is.  And isn't life much like that?  Somebody holds the mortgage on my house.  If I do not pay, they take my house.  My car needs gas to run, if I do not fill it up, it does not move.  On a daily basis I am outsmarted by the dogs and geese.  And the cat.  They expect food in their bowl and like a silly fool, I take my money and buy them what they need.  Elvira goes to the beauty shop, but I braid my hair.  How many of you out there are slaves to the same Gods?  (Did you ever notice that GODS and DOGS have the same letters?)  Our reward for the attention we give them is they will sometimes let us pat them on the head.  Not the geese though.  The only thing I get from them is the privilege of cleaning out the goose house 3-4 times a year and carrying water to them in the winter.  All they do for me is poop where I need to walk.
So I will keep the curtains closed for a while.  When the doves migrate away I will open them back up and delude myself into believing that all is well with the world and no one is eating anyone else.  I am an optimist and I shall stay an optimist because to not look for a brighter tomorrow is doom myself to a life of darkness.
So fly away, my little doves!  There is a brighter world some where!

This is my helper and this is why I can not get anything done!

This is Icarus and Icarus helps me with everything I do.  Here you see that I am working on a mat for the homeless, but she thinks she can do a better job, so she just plants herself on the work and tells me to go do something else.

Now if you are wondering if Icarus is a boy or girl, she is a girl  When I got her I was dating a guy and he said "Let's name her Icarus!  That is a very good name."  I explained to him that Icarus was a boys name and I reminded him that he was the boy with wax wings that flew to close to the sun and his wings melted and he fell to earth.  He patiently pointed out to me that no one remembered that stuff and Icarus was a good name, so Icarus she became and while he is no longer with me, Icarus is.

And her she is thinking she might be able to grab that shuttle, but will have no idea what to do with it when she gets it.  She just wants to get it away from me!

Here she has a different perscpective from the other side of the loom.  She would like to be able to crawl across the harnesses, but she is pretty sure I move them with my feet and she can not control my hands and feet at the same time.

Well, there you go!  I am completely shut down at this point!  You do realize that this also occurs when I am on the computer, don't you?  Naps are out of the question because she like to set on my head when I kick back in the recliner.  And if I protest too much, she has been known to bite.  Where did I get the idea that I wanted a cat?  Oh, I remember, it was so keep the dogs company.  So here I set with an cat that thinks it is a dog, and dogs that tolerate her because she is a bitch.  

I do not know where she is right now and it is scaring me!  Usually when this happens I end up chasing a mouse around the kitchen.  Crap!  Better go find her.  Better go take care of my remaing geese.  Probably ought to just go to bed and call it a day.

Continued from yesterday.

Here is Icarus looking all innocent.  Such a joy to behold.  But think again!

This is where she was just about 10 minutes ago.  This is the cover over my deck and I do not know how she got up there.  Nor do I know why!  Pretty sure there are no mice on top of that thing.

So just walking around looking for lord only knows what.

Oh, hi there mom!  What are you doing down there.  Come on up and let's try to figure out how to get down.  Oh, you could just trot on out to the garage and bring the ladder and then carry me down.

Enjoy me while you can because I am getting ready to go hide in the sunflowers.

Told you so!

Oh, well, one thing nice is if she is hiding or up on the roof she is not batting vernin around the kitchen.  Don't you wish you had a cat like this?  If you have a cat, it probably IS like this!

Oh, Oh! Damn! Where does time go?

I looked at the calendar just now and January is almost gone.  3 days until the anniversary of my husband's demise.  This date coincides nicely with the Super Moon which I want to try to stay awake to see.  Then one
day to whip out the goodies for Addie's open house 90th birthday at the church, which is Saturday which is no longer January.  From here it is down hill through tax time, spring cleaning and garden planting, into the hot summer, through the fall and ito the freezing cold winter so I can start moaning about the lack of  Christ in  Christmas and then start the whole thing over again.
 
Many years ago I was into doing a lot of hand embroidery and made several cute little pictures that hung in the bathroom in little brown frames.  They were called Thumbprints and a little sheep looking thing said "Ewe's not fat, ewe's fluffy."  The little thumbprint then looked like a woman on top of a hill and said  "When you are over the hill. you pick up speed."  My favorite was the thumbprint with the confused look on it's face that said "Of all the things I have lost, I miss my mind the most."  That little collection seemed to mirror my life so I threw the whole bunch in the Goodwill box and never looked back.  I am now rethinking all of that!

The wise saying about being fluffy still holds true, although the fluffs now have wrinkles in them.  The picking up speed is almost scary.  If there was a policeman in charge of time marching on, I am pretty sure I would be ticketed every day as time whizzes past me.  And as for the mind being gone, it is not so much gone as just out to lunch a lot of time.  Some one asked for my phone number the other day and I drew a complete blank.  "How in the hell do I know.  I never call it.  There is no one home."  I did, however, manage to recall the sequence of digits.  I have only had the same number for 31 years.

Most of my day is spent running either upstairs and wondering why I came up here, or going back down the stairs only to remember what I went up there for in the first place.  After a few of these marathons sprints, I usually set down in my recliner and the cat jumps up on me and holds me down.  Since I am captive at that point, I usually fall asleep.  How long I sleep is a matter of whether or not a car passes by up on the road causing the dogs to unleash a flurry of barking in an attempt to scare it away which always works, hence the term "car passes by."  God help them if they are heading for my house and come up the drive because they will be licked to death!  But barking is apparently very important to them.

Now I do not want to make you think that all I do all day is sleep, because that is far from the way it is.  I do have my little ebay business and it keeps me busy listing things to sell, making things to sell, photographing things to sell, selling things I sell, packaging the things I sold and then running to the post office with my parcels.  Anyone who is privy to my operation is amazed that I know where anything is.  Me too!  I have lost a coral and turquoise ring some where between the roof and the basement, I think.

And I do manage to do a little volunteer work sometimes.  And of course visiting.  Going to have lunch on Friday with my friends Renate and Val.  Have not decided where yet, but I am sure we will.  Oh, and I need to get the oil changed and the tires rotated.  I need to pick up a bale of straw so I can clean the goose house, but may put that off until  Spring.  I do need to get down in the basement and dig out that box of old Playboy's and get them listed.  Pretty sure I am not going to read them.  I am pretty sure the garden is going to be taken care of by my friend, Richard, this year.  He plants, weeds,  waters, and harvests and I eat it.  Well, some of it anyway.  I told him I have the dirt and that is all of my involvement in this little venture.

And now I have rambled on for a full page and said absolutely nothing.  This, dear friends, is the story of my life!

The cat and the hummingbird and NO CAMERA!

I have Sherman's desk that he left me right by the front window.  Outside the front window hangs the hummingbird feeder.  Inside the window is a bookcase and of course, a window sill.  Scenario is set!
I sat down in the little chair at the little desk for just a moment.  In that moment, the calico cat, Icarus, leapt on to the bookcase.  At the same moment outside the window, the hummingbird arrived for his afternoon feeding.
Hummingbird and cat spotted each other at the same moment.  Hummingbird came closer to the window to tease get a better look at the cat.  Icarus was plastered with front feet against the window while hummingbird dove and fluttered within inches of those deadly claws!  I knew exactly where my camera was.  It was on the front seat of the car, ready for action.  But I was inside the house and the action was here!

And isn't that rather how life goes?  Seems if I have the good shot in my eyesight, the camera is not near.  If the camera is near, there is not a good shot!  So, what does this say about my life?  Could it be that I am missing a lot of good opportunities simply because I was not expecting them to arise and I did not appreciate them when they did?  See the word tease up above?  See the word tease here?  That is called a strikethrough and it is done with a process called HTML.

 A couple of  years back ebay had chat rooms and I spent a lot of time in one.  There I met a man who was an editor for a newspaper in Chicago or some such place. (And he really was because I googled him and found his bio.  See, on the internet, you can be anything you want, until someone googles you and you are reduced to being an everyday nobody.)   Maybe Cleveland.  Anyway, at the time I was interested in learning the art of HTML.   I would ask him "How do I do the copyright sign?" and he would tell me. ©   See how easy that was?   Or something like this:

WATCH THIS

So I hung out in that chat room until ebay finally did away with our little playroom, but I still have my HTML sheets and I may very well surprise you from time to time with my prowess in this area.  Give me an HTML format and I can dazzle you, but do not be confused that this means I am a computer genius by any stretch of the imagination.  Just something to do.

Alas, back in May of 2011 I noticed Dan was no longer hanging out.  I emailed him.  Nothing.  I thought that odd and I started asking around the chat rooms.  Finally I got an email from someone I did not know, sent outside of the chat rooms.  It contained short note that said simply "Because you care." and a  link to an obituary.  And that was it.  I do not know why this came up today, but it just goes to show how thinking about a hummingbird led to thinking about a computing process which in turn led to thinking about something silly that happened many years ago.

I guess this just goes to show that nothing ever really goes away.  The more things change, the more they stay the same.  And that, my friends, is my words of wisdom for the day!

 

What a way to spend a Sunday!

Here is the goose house when I opened it this morning.  It is beginning to look pretty nasty.  I would not want to sleep in there, would you?  My 13 little geese are certainly more deserving of something better.  Oh, look what I have in the back seat of my car!  I think I know what to do.

The man at the feed store looked at me like I had lost my marbles when I ordered a bale of straw and handed him the big black bag.  He thought I was nuts when I told him to slip that right down over that bale.  I had to help him because I do not think he had done this before.  Then when I told him to just toss it in the back seat he told me it would not go.  But this was not my first rodeo and I knew it would.  So I told him just put it through the door and slide it across the seat and close the door.  How simple it was then.  The real trick is not actually getting it in the car, the trick is getting it out without the bag breaking and leaving straw all over the seat.  That was my job.

So I jumped up bright and early this morning and traipsed out to the goose house with my shovel, broom, heavy coat and gloves.  Lyn did not know I was going to do this today so I did not have to get the sermon about wearing a mask and all that.  I did have to stop about half way through because my little fingers were very cold and I feared frostbit.  But with peraverance, in just a little over an hour it looked like this:

And then I filled the feeder .

And to make thier day complete, I ran them a big pond on water because the stock tank is frozen and I think it will remain that way until the spring thaw.

 

And Icarus checked it all out and pronounced it finished!  I headed for the shower!

 

So tonight I will sleep good knowing the geese are warm and dry tonight with new straw.  And let me tell you this is one chore I am glad is done for a few months.  A friend of mine called earlier and asked what I did today since they did not come and do my floors.  I told him I cleaned the goose house and he said, " I told you I would do that!  At least I meant to tell you I would do it."  I told him, "Oh, I misunderstood.  I thought you said 'Pass the cookies'. "  MEN! 

 

Why yes, Virginia, there is a crocus in my yard.

And with that title I must now tell you this has nothing to do with a crocus. This has to do with my inhumanity to myself.  As you know, in the past 3 weeks I have thrown myself off the treadmill, face planted on the sidewalk at the kayak course, dropped my camera that I loved face down on the asphalt and now I have a concussion and a broken arm all because I changed the ink in the printer.  Of course you want to know how that one happened, don't you?

Icarus, the calico cat is the one to blame on this one.  Icarus attacks the printer every time I print something.  So I contrived to put the printer inside the cabinet. Of course the shelf had to be lowered to facilitate this.  That being done I could then put two boxes on either side of the tray the printed stuff comes out on.  The boxes are there to hold the baby gate off the tray.  This makes it so Icarus can only swat through  the tiny squares, but she will hit nothing.  This is all well and good until the printer needs a little maintenance like an ink cartridge installed.  Looked easy enough during the planning stage.

Now the printer sets clear to the back and it is dark back there. On first glance it appeared that if I just got on my knees I could be on the printer level and I could see better.  But of course those are the same knees that were present for the landing at the kayak course and they did not want to be knelt upon.  No problem.  Here is this lovely box of printer paper.  Let me just set down on it and Holy Shit!  Printer paper boxes are not very sturdy.  I shot backwards off of that sucker and whacked my head on the bottom of the office desk which is very hard!  And somewhere along that ride I sustained a laceration to my left forearm and my left elbow, but nothing compared to the knot that mysteriously appeared on my right arm.

As I lay there bruised, battered, and bleeding staring up at the bottom of the desk I wondered if there really is a God.  As the stars blinked on and off in my good eye, I also wondered just who that doctor was trying to fool when he told me that I have osteoporosis and what ever I do , don't fall.  Brittle bones my big fat patootie!  I am ten feet tall and bullet proof.  If anything was going to break I am pretty sure there should be a bone protruding through skin after any one of those "mishaps". 

I have,however decided that I must start being a little more careful.  So, I am going to give up exercise althogether!  Now that the treadmill is safely ensconced in the basement I think I will sell it and have some one drag it up the stairs and out the door.  I will need to give up walking cause sidewalks are very hard.  And it looks like even this computer is out the door.  Or maybe I will just put the printer back on top of the cabinet and get a spray bottle and squirt that damn cat.  Oh, crud, I will probably slip in the water on the floor and break my neck for sure.  No winning around here so I guess I will just go to bed. 

Have a good one!

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This is my first sight when I set down to the computer in the morning.  Icarus has slept with me all night, but she knows it is morning and  the routine is same-o, same-o.  See that little picture just to the right of the cd's?  That is my momma and daddy when they were young.  That was a long time ago, but she likes to keep an eye on me even today.  So I behave.  Doesn't Icarus look crazy?  She is!

After I have been up a while the sun thinks it should come up also.  These two shots are looking Northwest out my office window.  Course I know the sun comes up in the East, but I like this view of the sun just painting the clouds a beautiful pink.  The tree on the left is a Cherry tree.  It will be covered with blossoms probably in the next week or so.  I planted this when we first moved in here in 1982.  It has never had a Cherry.  The neighbors in front have a Cherry tree and it is prolific, so I know it gets pollinated.  I think it hates me!

This is looking North out the living room window.  Contrary to popular beliefs those white squares are not flying saucers, but reflections of light fixtures in the dining room.  Feel better?

                                    

Now I ask you, with a view like this who would not want to jump out of bed and see it?  Colorado does have pretty clouds.  I just love clouds and these pink ones are especially nice.

OK, so here is the real crux of the matter.  I spend 50% of my time taking pictures and 50% looking for them on this goofy computer.  I try putting them in albums, but then I have the original picture, plus the album.  So then I think I will put them in folders.  I then have the original, the album and now the folder.  Oh, plus every thing I do is backed up in Document, HP, Picassa, Snapfish and no doubt the camera is storing them also even though I use a card and delete it after each use.  Now I heard that if I actually delete pictures then they will disappear from where I have sent them, ie; blog, eBay, etc.

So here is my solution, I am going to jerk out my hard drive and take it to the geek guy over on the highway and have a little talk with the boy.  He has got to be way smarter than I am.  Hell, if he can eat without running the fork in his eye he has me beat!

Ok, Icarus is down, sun is up, fowl are out of the pen, clock is announcing nine o'clock and here I set in my jammies.  Better at least act like I am alive.  I think the wiccan is coming to help me do something downstairs.  Right now I am starving!  You have a very good day and I will surely check in again. 

The son is here and the doggies are tired!

Well, the son arrived here from California yesterday afternoon.  Well, actually a little before noon.  He had left there at 1:00 PM the previous day to make the 22 hour drive.  By arriving here 23 hours later, I  am thinking he did not spend the night in a motel anywhere.

So let me introduce the dogs who are his family and accompanied him on his journey.  This is Oliver.  Ollie is a West Highland Terrier.  Kind of an oaf of a dog, and is constantly surprised by life in general.  He is learning many things.  One of which is that I have a cat and he does not know what a cat is.  He thinks it might be something to play with, but he is not real sure of that .  He also got introduced to the flock of geese and ducks.  This rather overwhelmed the poor fellow as he had only encountered wild life in a one on one setting.  After much trembling, Sam allowed him back in the sanctuary of the yard.

 This would be the poor little Emma, the very old poodle.  She is exhausted to the point of being unable to move at all.  Her only actual sign of her age is that her hearing is completely gone.  She is the most precious little dog and she loves to be held.  Sam left her with me while he took Oliver to the doggie wash.  Doggie wash is like a car wash only you wash a dog instead of a car!  Never heard of such a thing.   I sat in the recliner and she had a nice nap in my lap.  Surprisingly enough, Daisy and Elvira did not grab her leg and jerk her off my lap.

 And here they are making themselves at home on the couch.  Sam wanted me to know that Emma likes to fluff things up so I might want to keep an eye on her and my leather couch.  Yesterday she was way to tired to care about the fluffing thing.

Ok, there is a short introduction to the doggies. Tomorrow or later tonight we will delve into the actual son part.  Oh, and the girls are coming so there will  be lots going on.