There are some advantages to working from home. No particular wardrobe is required. Blue jeans and yoga pants, which I have actually done some yoga in, and a t-shirt work just fine. I don't have to fix my hair, especially during gnat season, because the styling product I use becomes a giant gnat magnet.
The only downside to working from home is the lack of communion with people. I can go for days without talking to anyone, except my husband. Sometimes I can see his eyes begin to glaze over when I relate what species of bird visited the feeder.
I stepped outside yesterday to take a break and I could hear something. It was a beeping noise. I listened and was trying to figure out if it was a piece of my equipment making the sound. It did not sound like anything that has a residence in my residence, but there was something vaguely familiar about it. The beeping had a rhythm, three beeps and a pause.
Mr. Henry lives catty-corner from me, in the same block. He is a kind old gentleman and on occasion we visit over the fence while he tends to his flowers. The beeping sound was coming from his house and I was trying to remember what it was. I sent a text to his son, saying that I thought the alarm was sounding and he sent a text back that he was headed that way. I decided to go over anyway, just to check on him, when my phone rang. My youngest daughter, who had been jogging, said, "Mom, that thing at Mr. Henry's is beeping and I think I smelled smoke."
Suddenly I remembered, the sound was Mr. Henry's smoke alarm. I could smell the smoke before I reached the house. I've watched enough movies about fires to know that throwing open the door is not always a good idea. Luckily, the inside kitchen door was open and the screen door was not latched. I went into the kitchen, yelling for Mr. Henry. The kitchen was full of smoke and it did not take long to find the source. There on the stove was Mr. Henry's lunch, boiled beyond recognition. I was still yelling for Mr. Henry as I removed the pan and turned off the burner. That's when I noticed the whole downstairs was full of smoke.
I yelled again, still no answer. By this time I'm thinking that I really do not want to find out that Mr. Henry has left this world for a better place. I yell again. Finally, he answered.
Mr. Henry had put some soup on the stove and went to bed. After some family members arrived and I explained what had happened, I was leaving and I heard "What are we going to do with you, Grandpa?" and he answered "I don't know." As I walked home I thought about how this could have been a tragic situation, but in a sense, it was. It was a pretty certain bet that Mr. Henry just lost his independence.
We grow up in a society that encourages us to be independent, to follow our our dreams, to march to our own drum. Before we know it, the time creeps by and suddenly we find ourselves in the "golden years" and far too often, we find ourselves alone.
I'm thinking the golden years ain't looking too shiny.....so I told my kids to just strap a pair of antlers on my head and turn me loose in the woods during deer season........and pray for a good marksman.
Thursday, April 30, 2015
Wednesday, April 29, 2015
Being Back
My proof reader lives several hours from me. When she threatens to come after me with a cattle prod, I know I either have enough time to put something into words.....or hide.
I've been silent for several days, not a good thing for a would-be writer. I crawled down into a deep dark hole, drug the lid over the top and stayed there. I stayed there so long I felt like I could not function. I could not think, I could not work, I could not do anything but feel bad. The longer I stayed in there, the worse I felt, self pity can do that.
Finally, I decided to have a "come to Jesus" meeting. I screamed and I cried. I stomped around the kitchen shouting and I even swore. I explained how I was sick and tired of feeling this way and that something had to give. Fortunately, my husband was not home at this time as I might have ended up in a room with much padding. When I was done, I was done. It was over. I had poured out all the sorrow of my soul and suddenly realized that even though the things I let put me in the hole in the first place were still there, everything was OK. Things did not have to be perfect, or have an instant fix, things were just OK.
The population sign that greets visitors as they enter into this small community reads 1200. It is a small little town that sits in the middle of hundreds of acres of rolling farm land. Its only claim to fame is being known as the Purple Martin Capital of the World and I usually refer to it as "Bird City". During the past few days, this little community has lost five of its members. It's like the Angel of Death decided to have a stay over. I hope he moves on soon, the people have had enough.
I received a phone call the other day from a friend that I happened to meet over an Ebay transaction. He lives in the Los Angeles, California area and during our conversation he asked if we had the windows open. I assured him we did and he was in awe of that. He said it is too smoggy there to have the windows open.
Something so simple as an open window........the things we take for granted.
I need to heed my own advice, that I so freely give, and live in the moment. One never knows when the opportunity may be lost. Everything can change in an instant, so I'm going to pay more attention to my surroundings, quit feeling sorry for myself and do my best to tackle my bucket list......may you do the same.
So, in my best Arnold Schwarzenegger voice, "I'm back!"
I've been silent for several days, not a good thing for a would-be writer. I crawled down into a deep dark hole, drug the lid over the top and stayed there. I stayed there so long I felt like I could not function. I could not think, I could not work, I could not do anything but feel bad. The longer I stayed in there, the worse I felt, self pity can do that.
Finally, I decided to have a "come to Jesus" meeting. I screamed and I cried. I stomped around the kitchen shouting and I even swore. I explained how I was sick and tired of feeling this way and that something had to give. Fortunately, my husband was not home at this time as I might have ended up in a room with much padding. When I was done, I was done. It was over. I had poured out all the sorrow of my soul and suddenly realized that even though the things I let put me in the hole in the first place were still there, everything was OK. Things did not have to be perfect, or have an instant fix, things were just OK.
The population sign that greets visitors as they enter into this small community reads 1200. It is a small little town that sits in the middle of hundreds of acres of rolling farm land. Its only claim to fame is being known as the Purple Martin Capital of the World and I usually refer to it as "Bird City". During the past few days, this little community has lost five of its members. It's like the Angel of Death decided to have a stay over. I hope he moves on soon, the people have had enough.
I received a phone call the other day from a friend that I happened to meet over an Ebay transaction. He lives in the Los Angeles, California area and during our conversation he asked if we had the windows open. I assured him we did and he was in awe of that. He said it is too smoggy there to have the windows open.
Something so simple as an open window........the things we take for granted.
I need to heed my own advice, that I so freely give, and live in the moment. One never knows when the opportunity may be lost. Everything can change in an instant, so I'm going to pay more attention to my surroundings, quit feeling sorry for myself and do my best to tackle my bucket list......may you do the same.
So, in my best Arnold Schwarzenegger voice, "I'm back!"
Friday, April 24, 2015
Take Heed of Your Fellow Man
This has been spinning in my brain all night. Its been playing like a song and although I rarely listen to country music, that is what it sounds like. For now it will just be a poem. Maybe later I will put it to music, post it on Youtube and be an overnight sensation......and then again...maybe not. Just a few of the things I have encountered these past few days.........
Take Heed of Your Fellow Man
You waited 'till the grass was tall
At least a foot or so.
And then I guess you must have thought
It was a good time to mow.
You mowed it down, right to the nub.
To you, that must have made good sense.
I'll bet you thought it was funny when
You blew grass all over the backside of my white fence.
Hey you there, with that derby car
Right in the middle of town.
I guess you think the neighbors love
To hear that roarin' sound.
You fired it up, straight pipe exhaust
Oh yeah man, that is cool.
But you must have been playing hooky
When they were teachin' manners class in school.
Forest's mama had it right,
"Stupid is as stupid does".
But somewhere along the line
We've kind of lost the love.
We're all in this together
So take time to smile and wave your hand.
Show some respect and remember to
Take heed of your fellow man.
You bought your son a Red Bull
Cause' you claimed he stayed up late.
Then sent him off to school buzzed,
You probably sealed his fate.
He's only ten? So who's the boss?
Have you no sense at all?
I wonder if you were mad as hell
When he spent the morning sittin' in the hall.
You're on that social media
Postin' ten selfies a day.
You air someone's dirty laundry,
You don't care what you say.
Then suddenly, you're all upset,
You haven't got a clue.
How could someone be so mean
And post somethin' nasty about you?
Forest's mama had it right,
"Stupid is as stupid does".
but somewhere along the line
We've kind of lost the love.
We're all in this together
So take time to smile and wave your hand.
Show some respect and remember to
Take heed of your fellow man.
Thursday, April 23, 2015
Bird Lines
The field guide book for birds of this region sits in a drawer close to the kitchen window. Its page edges worn from frantic flipping when a new species is seen at the feeder. The book is filled with full color photographs of each bird and a description, along with their certain characteristics. Mother would be proud, she loved to watch the birds.
The author of the book uses words to help identify the songs of several birds. Take the barred owl, for instance, it gives an eight hoot call that sounds like "who cooks for you, who cooks for you".
The northern flicker gives a loud "wacka-wacka" and the common yellowthroat says "witchity-witchity-witchity-witchity".
I've never quite been able to wrap my ears around this concept, putting words into the bird songs. I can identify several different birds by their song, but that is all it sounds like to me, bird tweets.
There is a large tall hedge of evergreens that grows on the boundary of our property and the neighboring one. It is a haven for many species of birds throughout the nesting season. There are grackles, finches of all kinds, catbirds and brown thrashers who return each year. There are also many cardinals and since they do not migrate, I can enjoy watching them all year.
Cardinals are easy to identify. The male's bright red color is hard to miss and they have a very distinctive song. During the mating season, the male cardinal works his tail off (no pun intended) trying to impress his mate (sometimes there is no blurred line between the animal and human kingdom). Many times I have seen a male cardinal bring a sunflower seed to his beloved, trying to ensure the survival of his species. He also spends a lot of time singing to her along with letting the other cardinals know this is his territory.
I was sitting outside the other day, when this yearly ritual was beginning, listening to the cardinals sing their love songs when I heard it. The words, "come here, come here". I nearly fell out of my chair. I listened again and sure enough, one young male cardinal had finessed his call into human English words. I paid special attention to see if the others made the same call because I had never heard "it" in words before. Although the call is similar, along with being familiar, the other males do not sound like this one lone bird. It is easy to locate him in the neighborhood as the words, "come here, come here, come here" ring out from the treetops.
I'm not sure how his pick-up line is working out for him. I guess he just decided to skip the formalities and get straight to the point. Must be a guy thing.
The author of the book uses words to help identify the songs of several birds. Take the barred owl, for instance, it gives an eight hoot call that sounds like "who cooks for you, who cooks for you".
The northern flicker gives a loud "wacka-wacka" and the common yellowthroat says "witchity-witchity-witchity-witchity".
I've never quite been able to wrap my ears around this concept, putting words into the bird songs. I can identify several different birds by their song, but that is all it sounds like to me, bird tweets.
There is a large tall hedge of evergreens that grows on the boundary of our property and the neighboring one. It is a haven for many species of birds throughout the nesting season. There are grackles, finches of all kinds, catbirds and brown thrashers who return each year. There are also many cardinals and since they do not migrate, I can enjoy watching them all year.
Cardinals are easy to identify. The male's bright red color is hard to miss and they have a very distinctive song. During the mating season, the male cardinal works his tail off (no pun intended) trying to impress his mate (sometimes there is no blurred line between the animal and human kingdom). Many times I have seen a male cardinal bring a sunflower seed to his beloved, trying to ensure the survival of his species. He also spends a lot of time singing to her along with letting the other cardinals know this is his territory.
I was sitting outside the other day, when this yearly ritual was beginning, listening to the cardinals sing their love songs when I heard it. The words, "come here, come here". I nearly fell out of my chair. I listened again and sure enough, one young male cardinal had finessed his call into human English words. I paid special attention to see if the others made the same call because I had never heard "it" in words before. Although the call is similar, along with being familiar, the other males do not sound like this one lone bird. It is easy to locate him in the neighborhood as the words, "come here, come here, come here" ring out from the treetops.
I'm not sure how his pick-up line is working out for him. I guess he just decided to skip the formalities and get straight to the point. Must be a guy thing.
Tuesday, April 21, 2015
Do You Suppose?
Our sun is a busy star. It is constantly crushing hydrogen atoms into helium, a process called fusion, releasing massive amounts of energy. This energy is what keeps us alive. If the sun were to stop doing what it does, what do you suppose we would do?
As the sun implodes upon itself, creating a black hole, this black hole becomes a vacuum. Everything that has been expanding in our solar system will probably come to a complete halt before it begins the journey backwards. Do you suppose the outer planets will start retreating first? Will we stand in awe struck wonder as we watch Neptune and Jupiter get closer and closer, or will we try to continue our day to day routine, our faces turned towards a small glowing screen?
Do you suppose we will gather our families together or spend more time wondering why more people did not hit the 'like' button on our recent Facebook post?
If the earth begins to lose its gravity and we begin floating off in space, do you suppose the congregations will still be arguing about who is right? Or will their voices finally unite?
As the oceans begin to empty and we see all the unknown creatures of the deep, do you suppose we will take the time to actually look at them? Or will we be too busy trying to hold on to all the material things we have accumulated in our lifetime?
Do you suppose we will realize that worrying about what someone else thinks really does not matter? Or will we, when we see our neighbor floating by, yell out "Hey Bob, at least my house is paid for!"?
As the debris field from planet earth begins to take the shape of a funnel, its narrow end edging closer to the black hole, will we be aware of the panic and reach out for our fellow man, to offer whatever comfort is still available? Or will we continue to think we are better than they are and only worry about ourselves?
Do you suppose, as we speed faster and faster to the impending doom, that we will be sad for all the time we wasted? Or will we see our best friend and ask, "Rhonda! Do these jeans make my butt look big?"?
As the sun implodes upon itself, creating a black hole, this black hole becomes a vacuum. Everything that has been expanding in our solar system will probably come to a complete halt before it begins the journey backwards. Do you suppose the outer planets will start retreating first? Will we stand in awe struck wonder as we watch Neptune and Jupiter get closer and closer, or will we try to continue our day to day routine, our faces turned towards a small glowing screen?
Do you suppose we will gather our families together or spend more time wondering why more people did not hit the 'like' button on our recent Facebook post?
If the earth begins to lose its gravity and we begin floating off in space, do you suppose the congregations will still be arguing about who is right? Or will their voices finally unite?
As the oceans begin to empty and we see all the unknown creatures of the deep, do you suppose we will take the time to actually look at them? Or will we be too busy trying to hold on to all the material things we have accumulated in our lifetime?
Do you suppose we will realize that worrying about what someone else thinks really does not matter? Or will we, when we see our neighbor floating by, yell out "Hey Bob, at least my house is paid for!"?
As the debris field from planet earth begins to take the shape of a funnel, its narrow end edging closer to the black hole, will we be aware of the panic and reach out for our fellow man, to offer whatever comfort is still available? Or will we continue to think we are better than they are and only worry about ourselves?
Do you suppose, as we speed faster and faster to the impending doom, that we will be sad for all the time we wasted? Or will we see our best friend and ask, "Rhonda! Do these jeans make my butt look big?"?
Friday, April 10, 2015
True That
Many moons ago, Mother placed the cosmetologist hat on my head and I attended the training in a near by city. I don't know why she thought I would make a good cosmetologist. It was not one of those deals where a parent lives out their un-achieved dreams through their child. There are lots of school pictures of sisters Lela and Blanche and of myself to prove that point. I imagine she was thinking that if I became a hairdresser, at least I wouldn't starve to death. Poor Mother, she worried about me a lot. I spent most of my time coloring outside of the lines.
While in cosmetology school, I came to know a wonderful teacher. She had never married, stood ram-rod straight and never had a hair out of place. She was all about fashion and being a lady. I knew her crayons had always been sharp and that she had probably never strayed off the straight and narrow. I do not think a day went by that she did not share one of her favorite isms, "paper will hold still for anything."
During my lifetime, since those memorable big hair days, I have found this to be true. It is always a good idea, if in doubt, to double check a story for its truth. Recently I discovered this also holds true for the internet.
The story I read was about the death of Hugh Hefner. Ole Hugh had passed away at the age of 88. As I read it, I thought there would probably be just as many people happy with that news as there would be ones who were sad. After that, I didn't give it much thought, until I read the celebrity birthdays in the paper the other day. There it was, Hugh was 89. How could this be? Hugh had kicked the bucket a couple of months ago, I had seen the article with my own eyes. I wondered if the person in charge of the celeb birthdays had messed up, after all, birthdays cease with the deceased.
Pulling out my trusty phone, I entered a Google search for the death of Hef. To my surprise, I learned that this information was indeed false. Hugh was alive and well and his pretty wife (pretty young wife) confirmed this to be true. It turned out that there are websites that do not have a whole lot of other things to do except make up stories. Further investigation led me to realize this was not the first celebrity death that had been faked. It left me wondering why anyone would enjoy doing that, but I chalked it up to another lesson learned.
Don't believe everything you see on the world wide web. Especially if it upsets you. There is no good reason to get all fired up about something, let it ruin your mood and then find out the whole thing was a hoax. Do some research, it can really save your day.
When it comes to our children, we should try not to worry so much. We can simply do our best and try to understand that they are their own person, just like we were. The path some take may have many potholes and pitfalls, but most of those tribulations are a great learning device and will help them to better discern truth from fabrications.
While in cosmetology school, I came to know a wonderful teacher. She had never married, stood ram-rod straight and never had a hair out of place. She was all about fashion and being a lady. I knew her crayons had always been sharp and that she had probably never strayed off the straight and narrow. I do not think a day went by that she did not share one of her favorite isms, "paper will hold still for anything."
During my lifetime, since those memorable big hair days, I have found this to be true. It is always a good idea, if in doubt, to double check a story for its truth. Recently I discovered this also holds true for the internet.
The story I read was about the death of Hugh Hefner. Ole Hugh had passed away at the age of 88. As I read it, I thought there would probably be just as many people happy with that news as there would be ones who were sad. After that, I didn't give it much thought, until I read the celebrity birthdays in the paper the other day. There it was, Hugh was 89. How could this be? Hugh had kicked the bucket a couple of months ago, I had seen the article with my own eyes. I wondered if the person in charge of the celeb birthdays had messed up, after all, birthdays cease with the deceased.
Pulling out my trusty phone, I entered a Google search for the death of Hef. To my surprise, I learned that this information was indeed false. Hugh was alive and well and his pretty wife (pretty young wife) confirmed this to be true. It turned out that there are websites that do not have a whole lot of other things to do except make up stories. Further investigation led me to realize this was not the first celebrity death that had been faked. It left me wondering why anyone would enjoy doing that, but I chalked it up to another lesson learned.
Don't believe everything you see on the world wide web. Especially if it upsets you. There is no good reason to get all fired up about something, let it ruin your mood and then find out the whole thing was a hoax. Do some research, it can really save your day.
When it comes to our children, we should try not to worry so much. We can simply do our best and try to understand that they are their own person, just like we were. The path some take may have many potholes and pitfalls, but most of those tribulations are a great learning device and will help them to better discern truth from fabrications.
Thursday, April 9, 2015
Sometimes
When your head is spinning with random endless thoughts,
And you can not seem to focus.
You put on a happy mask, it covers the sadness,
Because, sometimes, that's all ya got.
When you wake up in the morning
And are unhappy with the dawn.
Getting up is pointless, but you must continue to act,
Like a character in a play.
You smile a fake smile and perform.
Because, sometimes, that's all ya got.
When there is no magic wand to wave
To take away the pain,
And you wonder why you struggle.
You creep back into the darkness,
Because, sometimes, that's all ya got.
When the mountain that stands before you
Has gotten taller in the night,
And you throw away the climbing gear,
And walk away.
Your head hung in defeat.
Because, sometimes, that's all ya got.
When you are standing at the bottom
Of what feels like a bottomless pit,
The light at the end of the tunnel
Is so far out of reach.
And you wonder, will it ever get better?
And you tell yourself it will,
Because, sometimes, that's all ya got.
Tuesday, April 7, 2015
Go Team Go!
Since the March Madness filtered into April, I decided to watch the championship game. Anyone who knows me, knows I'm about as sportsy as a dish rag, so this was certainly unusual. I had seen snippets of the other games and could not understand how a #3 rated team got paired with a #14 rated team and posed a couple of questions to this malady. Some of my sportsy family did their best to explain and some talked about brackets. But to me, brackets are something used to hang a shelf on the wall, so I just put on my best, "oh, yes, I get it now" face and thanked them for the info.
I do not know why I don't like sports. My father was a huge sports fan and passed the love of all things sportsy to most of the other family members. He tried to teach me to play golf.....once....but I could not make it past the water hazard, aka pond, and was more than happy to go hunt for frogs. That must have been what I was doing when he was passing around the sports love.
So, the big NCAA (National Coalition of Amazing Athletes) game was about to start. I had decided to cheer for the underdog, Wisconsin. There was no particular reason for this choice other than I do like Frank the Tank. At seven feet tall he is certainly an amazing athlete to watch. I'm thinking too, that Frank the Tank would come in really handy around my house. He reminds me of Mike in Dr. Seuss' classic One Fish Two Fish Red Fish Blue Fish.
Mike rides a bike with the kids and when the terrain gets steep, Mike pushes. Yes indeed, Frank the Tank could reach places in my home that I haven't seen for years. I've even walked around the house with a yard stick, measuring 22 inches above the top of my head just to realize how tall Frank is. I also realized Frank will have to duck a lot.....or wear a helmet.
Anyway, the first half of the game was a barn burner. I hooped and hollered and jumped up and down on the couch. Runtly thought he was either in some kind of big trouble or I had lost my mind. At half time the score was tied and I was nearly worn out. My husband said, "Well, it's a brand new game." I looked at him in disbelief and then what he said dawned on me.....we were right back at zero.
During half time, there was some channel surfing going on and we watched some poor bloke in the UFC ring being turned into hamburger. My, my, that was entertaining and I was sure glad when the basketball game resumed. I had been told that Wisconsin always has a better second half and they came out of the half time break like gangbusters. Both teams were going up and down the court so fast that I was exhausted.
As the clock began to tick away the last minutes of the game and the score was still neck and neck, the timeouts began. I decided I would go upstairs and watch the rest of the game in bed. Thirty minutes later my husband walked into the bedroom. I looked at the TV and there was much celebrating going on. "Who won?", I asked. "Duke", he answered. "Oh no! I fell asleep before the game was over!"
"That's OK", my husband said, "They would have won whether or not you had been awake."
Well, we'll never know now, will we?
I do not know why I don't like sports. My father was a huge sports fan and passed the love of all things sportsy to most of the other family members. He tried to teach me to play golf.....once....but I could not make it past the water hazard, aka pond, and was more than happy to go hunt for frogs. That must have been what I was doing when he was passing around the sports love.
So, the big NCAA (National Coalition of Amazing Athletes) game was about to start. I had decided to cheer for the underdog, Wisconsin. There was no particular reason for this choice other than I do like Frank the Tank. At seven feet tall he is certainly an amazing athlete to watch. I'm thinking too, that Frank the Tank would come in really handy around my house. He reminds me of Mike in Dr. Seuss' classic One Fish Two Fish Red Fish Blue Fish.
Mike rides a bike with the kids and when the terrain gets steep, Mike pushes. Yes indeed, Frank the Tank could reach places in my home that I haven't seen for years. I've even walked around the house with a yard stick, measuring 22 inches above the top of my head just to realize how tall Frank is. I also realized Frank will have to duck a lot.....or wear a helmet.
Anyway, the first half of the game was a barn burner. I hooped and hollered and jumped up and down on the couch. Runtly thought he was either in some kind of big trouble or I had lost my mind. At half time the score was tied and I was nearly worn out. My husband said, "Well, it's a brand new game." I looked at him in disbelief and then what he said dawned on me.....we were right back at zero.
During half time, there was some channel surfing going on and we watched some poor bloke in the UFC ring being turned into hamburger. My, my, that was entertaining and I was sure glad when the basketball game resumed. I had been told that Wisconsin always has a better second half and they came out of the half time break like gangbusters. Both teams were going up and down the court so fast that I was exhausted.
As the clock began to tick away the last minutes of the game and the score was still neck and neck, the timeouts began. I decided I would go upstairs and watch the rest of the game in bed. Thirty minutes later my husband walked into the bedroom. I looked at the TV and there was much celebrating going on. "Who won?", I asked. "Duke", he answered. "Oh no! I fell asleep before the game was over!"
"That's OK", my husband said, "They would have won whether or not you had been awake."
Well, we'll never know now, will we?
Monday, April 6, 2015
From The Desk of the Cat
Mom is muttering over a pile of papers she calls bills. There is another human she calls bill, but this does not look like him. I don't know why she just doesn't spread them around and lay on top of them. Humans can be very confusing.
I'm a good cat and my name is Tigger. I have lived here a little over a year, at least that is what Mom tells me. I don't know what a year is but she says it is a measure of time....humans can be very confusing. Anyway, this place is my home and I like it here.
Mom said I just showed up here one day and would not leave. She told me that over the years, which means a really long time, she has had lots of cats. Mom likes cats. She said of all the cats that have lived here, she could only recall one cat that had actually been brought here on purpose. I don't know what a purpose is or how to get on one, but she explained that she went to someone's house and brought home a cat, on purpose.......humans can be very confusing.
Mom says that all the other cats came here because they didn't have a home or a human who wanted them. She said they were most likely born at a humans' house, but after a while, the human stopped paying any attention to them and didn't feed them or care for them, so the cats left to search for a better place. She said that when cats are babies, humans call them kittens and everyone thinks they are really cute. Then, the kittens get bigger and bigger and the humans lose interest in them. Mom said she will always think I'm cute. She says that pets, any non human animal, are a big responsibility. I don't know what that word means but she said it takes commitment and patience and money to have a pet. She said that humans should have their pets spayed or neutered. She tried to explain that to me, but I had to cover my ears. She said it was an important thing to do to make sure there were not any cats or other animals who would end up without a home. Mom said that I'm neutered because it helps to keep me safe. It helps to keep me from roaming too far from home and to keep me from crossing the flat grey strip in front of my house. That is a scary place, there are large fast monsters that run up and down the strip.
I pretty much stay close to home and only venture into the neighboring yard every once in awhile. There is another human who lives there and she likes me too. I have a best friend who my humans call Runtly. He smells kind of funny so I don't think he is a cat, but we still have lots of fun together. Mom says Runtly is neutered too so we have something in common. Lately there has been another cat at my place and Mom is not very happy about it. I do not like him much either, he thinks everyday is Wednesday. I don't know what that means either, but Mom said most humans would figure it out. Mom says this cat has not been neutered and that his human isn't taking very good care of him. She says he will probably not have a very good, or long life.
Although I do not like that cat, it makes me sad for him. Humans should take better care of their pets. Humans are very confusing.
I'm a good cat and my name is Tigger. I have lived here a little over a year, at least that is what Mom tells me. I don't know what a year is but she says it is a measure of time....humans can be very confusing. Anyway, this place is my home and I like it here.
Mom said I just showed up here one day and would not leave. She told me that over the years, which means a really long time, she has had lots of cats. Mom likes cats. She said of all the cats that have lived here, she could only recall one cat that had actually been brought here on purpose. I don't know what a purpose is or how to get on one, but she explained that she went to someone's house and brought home a cat, on purpose.......humans can be very confusing.
Mom says that all the other cats came here because they didn't have a home or a human who wanted them. She said they were most likely born at a humans' house, but after a while, the human stopped paying any attention to them and didn't feed them or care for them, so the cats left to search for a better place. She said that when cats are babies, humans call them kittens and everyone thinks they are really cute. Then, the kittens get bigger and bigger and the humans lose interest in them. Mom said she will always think I'm cute. She says that pets, any non human animal, are a big responsibility. I don't know what that word means but she said it takes commitment and patience and money to have a pet. She said that humans should have their pets spayed or neutered. She tried to explain that to me, but I had to cover my ears. She said it was an important thing to do to make sure there were not any cats or other animals who would end up without a home. Mom said that I'm neutered because it helps to keep me safe. It helps to keep me from roaming too far from home and to keep me from crossing the flat grey strip in front of my house. That is a scary place, there are large fast monsters that run up and down the strip.
I pretty much stay close to home and only venture into the neighboring yard every once in awhile. There is another human who lives there and she likes me too. I have a best friend who my humans call Runtly. He smells kind of funny so I don't think he is a cat, but we still have lots of fun together. Mom says Runtly is neutered too so we have something in common. Lately there has been another cat at my place and Mom is not very happy about it. I do not like him much either, he thinks everyday is Wednesday. I don't know what that means either, but Mom said most humans would figure it out. Mom says this cat has not been neutered and that his human isn't taking very good care of him. She says he will probably not have a very good, or long life.
Although I do not like that cat, it makes me sad for him. Humans should take better care of their pets. Humans are very confusing.
Thursday, April 2, 2015
Where Did It Go?
With the arrival of Spring in the northern hemisphere comes a time of change. The short dark days of winter give way to longer days of sunshine. This part of the world begins to wake from its death like slumber and come back to life again.
The Paschal full moon is the first full moon occurring on or after the spring equinox. The first Sunday after the Paschal full moon is determined to be the date of Easter. For Christians worldwide, this date, along with the week before, is a time to remember the death, burial and the resurrection of Jesus.
One of my new year's resolutions was to stay away from the negative news. One of the ways I chose to do this was to not read the daily newspaper, or at least not read anything with a negative headline. This goes for Facebook too. It has not been as hard as I thought it would be. In fact, it's really easy to just keep on scrolling past the "woe is me" and the "ain't it awful" news. (Thanks to author Pam Grout for the latter quote.)
Although I have been pretty successful at avoiding the doom and gloom, something has slipped into my grey matter that has given me reason to ponder. There is a huge big deal being made out of people's belief systems and people's life style choices. This isn't anything new, but it has gotten to the point that many believe we need laws to change the way people think. To me, that will never happen and smells suspiciously like brain washing. What puzzles me the most is this, what happened to respect?
If you do not believe the way I believe, I respect that and I'm not going to waste my time, or yours, trying to force you to see things my way. If someone's life style is not to your liking, or your belief system, that is your choice. If you do not want to do business with a particular individual or group, that should be your choice also. Yes, it may be considered discrimination, but so what? If a business owner chooses to lose revenue, who does that hurt?
On the other hand, why in the world would you want to do business with someone who does not want your business? Just because they believe differently than you, that suddenly gives you the right to label them? The very thing you say they are doing to you? Some will say it's an ethical issue, people should not hate. That may be true, people should not hate, people who are Christians especially should not hate, but trying to ramrod an idea down another's throat is never going to work.
In the book of Matthew, Jesus is giving out some directions to his disciples. One of the things He tells them is if they are not accepted in a certain home or town, shake the dust off and move on. He does not say to stand on the streets, holding signs and chanting slogans. He does not say to point fingers and condemn. He does not say to cast judgement and start a big rucus. Simply shake it off and walk away, respect it and move on. Also in Matthew, Jesus says this, and I'm paraphrasing, "Why do you spend so much time criticizing someone who you think is wrong when you do not see that what you are doing is just as wrong, maybe even more so. That's the speck vs. the plank verse and I believe it was meant for everyone.
Sometimes I think the biggest challenge that Christians face is understanding that God loves everyone, not just the Christians. Believing in Christ does not come with a certificate to be claimed at the check out counter to become judge and jury. He loves us, He respects us and I He wants us to do the same to each other.
Showing and having respect will get us much closer to understanding our mission here on earth and I believe it is time to put that word back in our vocabulary. If you need some help, do a search for Aretha Franklin and listen to her belt out R E S P E C T.
This Easter, let's remember the words that are so eagerly displayed in December. Not only remember them, but dwell on them and keep them in our hearts.....the reason for the season.
The Paschal full moon is the first full moon occurring on or after the spring equinox. The first Sunday after the Paschal full moon is determined to be the date of Easter. For Christians worldwide, this date, along with the week before, is a time to remember the death, burial and the resurrection of Jesus.
One of my new year's resolutions was to stay away from the negative news. One of the ways I chose to do this was to not read the daily newspaper, or at least not read anything with a negative headline. This goes for Facebook too. It has not been as hard as I thought it would be. In fact, it's really easy to just keep on scrolling past the "woe is me" and the "ain't it awful" news. (Thanks to author Pam Grout for the latter quote.)
Although I have been pretty successful at avoiding the doom and gloom, something has slipped into my grey matter that has given me reason to ponder. There is a huge big deal being made out of people's belief systems and people's life style choices. This isn't anything new, but it has gotten to the point that many believe we need laws to change the way people think. To me, that will never happen and smells suspiciously like brain washing. What puzzles me the most is this, what happened to respect?
If you do not believe the way I believe, I respect that and I'm not going to waste my time, or yours, trying to force you to see things my way. If someone's life style is not to your liking, or your belief system, that is your choice. If you do not want to do business with a particular individual or group, that should be your choice also. Yes, it may be considered discrimination, but so what? If a business owner chooses to lose revenue, who does that hurt?
On the other hand, why in the world would you want to do business with someone who does not want your business? Just because they believe differently than you, that suddenly gives you the right to label them? The very thing you say they are doing to you? Some will say it's an ethical issue, people should not hate. That may be true, people should not hate, people who are Christians especially should not hate, but trying to ramrod an idea down another's throat is never going to work.
In the book of Matthew, Jesus is giving out some directions to his disciples. One of the things He tells them is if they are not accepted in a certain home or town, shake the dust off and move on. He does not say to stand on the streets, holding signs and chanting slogans. He does not say to point fingers and condemn. He does not say to cast judgement and start a big rucus. Simply shake it off and walk away, respect it and move on. Also in Matthew, Jesus says this, and I'm paraphrasing, "Why do you spend so much time criticizing someone who you think is wrong when you do not see that what you are doing is just as wrong, maybe even more so. That's the speck vs. the plank verse and I believe it was meant for everyone.
Sometimes I think the biggest challenge that Christians face is understanding that God loves everyone, not just the Christians. Believing in Christ does not come with a certificate to be claimed at the check out counter to become judge and jury. He loves us, He respects us and I He wants us to do the same to each other.
Showing and having respect will get us much closer to understanding our mission here on earth and I believe it is time to put that word back in our vocabulary. If you need some help, do a search for Aretha Franklin and listen to her belt out R E S P E C T.
This Easter, let's remember the words that are so eagerly displayed in December. Not only remember them, but dwell on them and keep them in our hearts.....the reason for the season.
Wednesday, April 1, 2015
When Less is More
It's true. Sometimes there can be too much of a good thing. Here's just a few:
Hand Lotion: Unless your skin is as dry as the Mojave Dessert, it's best to start with a small amount. If too much is used it leaves the category of "hand" lotion and becomes arm, shoulder and any convenient bystander lotion.
Oil: Cooking oil. With the arrival of the turkey fryer, there are more home fires on Thanksgiving Day than any other day of the year because of too much oil. It's a really good idea to put the bird in the pan and cover it with water first. Take the bird out and mark the pan were the water level is. That shows how much oil is needed.
Cornstarch: Mother was the master of gravy making. She would stir flour into the hot grease drippings, add some milk and patiently stand at the stove, stirring, until the gravy was of perfect graviness consistency. I was never too good at this art form until I discovered cornstarch. For me it works best and eliminates the time spent standing and stirring. Unless you enjoy gravy being the same shape of whatever utensil it is spooned out with, a little bit of cornstarch goes a long way.
Bean Dip: Self explanatory.
Toys: aka dog toys. I was standing in the center of the kitchen. Within a ten foot radius, there were 14 dog toys scattered around the floor. Runtly tends to have attention deficit, maybe two toys would be better. This may also apply to the human species.
Dog Runs: Whilst on the subject of dogs......I made Runtly a run in the backyard. It consisted of a long (long being the key word) plastic coated steel cable with about a six foot lead that travels up and down the cable. It ended up being about fifty feet long. I only have 14 zillion yard art things in the backyard......taking him for a walk would have been a better idea.
Words: If whom ever you are speaking with gets that glassy eyed look, that is a pretty good indication it's time to shut up. I learned this valuable lesson, yet again, while having a conversation with Ms. Sassafrass. She was telling me how warm her back was getting when she stood in the sunshine. She showed me how, when she bent over, that her entire back got really warm. I launched into a detailed account of how the different angle of her back towards the sun made a difference in the warmth she could feel. When I finished, I asked her if that made sense to her. With the true wisdom of a four year old, she answered, "Not much."
Frowning: It takes twice as many muscles to frown as it does to smile. Use less, smile more.
Hand Lotion: Unless your skin is as dry as the Mojave Dessert, it's best to start with a small amount. If too much is used it leaves the category of "hand" lotion and becomes arm, shoulder and any convenient bystander lotion.
Oil: Cooking oil. With the arrival of the turkey fryer, there are more home fires on Thanksgiving Day than any other day of the year because of too much oil. It's a really good idea to put the bird in the pan and cover it with water first. Take the bird out and mark the pan were the water level is. That shows how much oil is needed.
Cornstarch: Mother was the master of gravy making. She would stir flour into the hot grease drippings, add some milk and patiently stand at the stove, stirring, until the gravy was of perfect graviness consistency. I was never too good at this art form until I discovered cornstarch. For me it works best and eliminates the time spent standing and stirring. Unless you enjoy gravy being the same shape of whatever utensil it is spooned out with, a little bit of cornstarch goes a long way.
Bean Dip: Self explanatory.
Toys: aka dog toys. I was standing in the center of the kitchen. Within a ten foot radius, there were 14 dog toys scattered around the floor. Runtly tends to have attention deficit, maybe two toys would be better. This may also apply to the human species.
Dog Runs: Whilst on the subject of dogs......I made Runtly a run in the backyard. It consisted of a long (long being the key word) plastic coated steel cable with about a six foot lead that travels up and down the cable. It ended up being about fifty feet long. I only have 14 zillion yard art things in the backyard......taking him for a walk would have been a better idea.
Words: If whom ever you are speaking with gets that glassy eyed look, that is a pretty good indication it's time to shut up. I learned this valuable lesson, yet again, while having a conversation with Ms. Sassafrass. She was telling me how warm her back was getting when she stood in the sunshine. She showed me how, when she bent over, that her entire back got really warm. I launched into a detailed account of how the different angle of her back towards the sun made a difference in the warmth she could feel. When I finished, I asked her if that made sense to her. With the true wisdom of a four year old, she answered, "Not much."
Frowning: It takes twice as many muscles to frown as it does to smile. Use less, smile more.
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