Happy New Year 2012!

Tomorrow promises to be a very busy day for me. I will start it off early by watering a few hundred poinsettia plants that are very fragile and losing leaves just from looks at them. The day holds many other projects as well, therefore, I might not make it back to this blog to post my well wishes.

I have many hopes for 2012. One of my hopes is that your new year is a very happy one! Peace and love.

Do You Like Games?

I came up with this game a long time ago but I have found that I still play it. Have you ever found yourself waiting in a car for someone? Like they just had to run into the pharmacy to grab something or run into the grocery store to pick up something really quickly? Or maybe you are waiting on the wrong movie parking lot to meet someone at the movies? (That happened to Shelly and me.) Anyway, you find yourself trying to match a person to a vehicle. Like you see a man walking out and you try to figure out which car he will get in before he gets into one. It is fun to see how well you do. Will that lady be too cool to get into that old worn out truck? Or will that business attired man get into that van? It is fun to play. Try it out sometime if you haven't already.

Yes, I Am in Love!

I am in love…again. This time I am in love with Siku which means ice sea in Inuit, this five week old polar bear cub.

No, I do not advocate average, ordinary citizens owning wild animals in their homes. In fact, I am adamantly opposed to it. However, there are many species of animals that would not exist any longer on this planet if not for their presence in a zoo setting.


As I have said so many times here, it is my belief that all life is precious not just human life. Can you create a polar bear? Only God can create a polar bear and God must have a good reason for it. Every day I give thanks to God for creating cats so I could love them. I had no room in the inn when little Jacob appeared on the scene but I am so happy that he appeared! Yesterday, my mother expressed the same sentiment. She said “I am glad little Jake came up on your patio.” She knows he is good for me and that I have received hours of joy out of that little scamp.

There are only an estimated 20,000 to 25,000 polar bears remaining in the wild. The melting polar ice caps have severely cut into their hunting grounds which are threatening their existence. One of my new year’s resolutions will be to continue to reduce my carbon footprint and use less energy on behalf of Siku and others like him. I want future inhabitants of this planet to know how beautiful polar bears are not how beautiful they once were.

Merry Christmas



Just getting around to posting this Christmas Eve picture. I hope everyone had a wonderful Christmas.

Run, Run Rudolph Before I Chase You

Probably everyone is well aware that music seems to set the tempo of my life. On most days, I listen to music for hours on end and if not, then, probably at least an hour those other days. I think you know where I am going with this. Christmas music. But before I get to that, there is something I need to get off my chest.



There is a Volkswagen commercial that plays the song “Rocket Man” by Elton John. It shows bunches of people wrecking the words to that song. Can I share with you that this really bothers me? That song is completely beautiful. Always has been. Always will be. Plus, it is not difficult to understand. EJ clearly sings “Burning out his fuse up here alone.” Now, I do admit I am a bit defensive when it comes to EJ because he can do no wrong in my mind. Okay, I vented. ‘Nuff said.


Christmas music. I love most of it. Notice I say ‘most’? There are some songs that grate on my nerves so badly that I cannot listen to them for a single, solitary second. My all time worst Christmas song if it really is a song at all in the strictest sense of the word is “Grandma Got Run Over by a Reindeer”. And again, someone has turned that train wreck into a commercial! Enough already!! Please stop the pain!


Have you ever heard the song “Run, Run Rudolph” by Check Berry. I can listen to Chuck’s version without too much discomfort but it does make me laugh. There is a version by Brian Adams that I cannot listen to because my laughing goes so out of control. He has changed the lyrics just enough to wig me out. You know when Chuck says “run, run, Rudolph whizzing like a shooting star”? Brian changes that to ‘run, run Rudolph whizzing like a rock star”. I can’t quit laughing. The image of Ozzy Osbourne whizzing on the Alamo comes immediately to mind! I know it is crazy nuts but I do not like the idea of Rudolph whizzing. Couldn’t they have said flying?


Just annoying is “Santa Baby” by anyone but most particularly Madonna.


Finally, I love the song “Last Christmas” by George Michael. Admittedly, George has his demons. He needs to deal with those but the man can really sing. I mean ‘really’ sing. I used to see him and his partner, Kenny quite often. Kenny still lives here. George does not. I might add that Kenny is super easy on the eyes too. I do not like to hear “Last Christmas” by anyone other than George most particularly young female country stars.


Am I officially Scrooge now? Probably. I am signing off for now while humming “Run, run Rudolph whizzing all over the place.”

Just Checking in on My Kids!

Remember my adoptive children? I have been very interested in their continued happiness and welfare. They appear to be enjoying their lives together. That makes me very happy. To say this young man was born with a silver spoon in his mouth is certainly an understatement. Still, it must be extremely difficult to lose one's mother at such a young and critical age and in such a visibley public, tragic and needless way. I want him to smile a lot! I want Katherine to smile a lot! I want a happy life for both of them.

Oh and let's not forget my other son! If he was really my son, I would call him Henry, of course, rather than Harry. William is charming, smooth and princely. Harry makes me smile. I love his easy way of talking and the mischievious twinkle in his eyes. They make a good looking bunch, don't they? I sure know how to adopt children!

Lemonade

I love lemonade. I think it is my favorite drink next to coffee.

I haven't said anything about my Jakester lately. You know Jake, my moon and stars. In case anyone is wondering, I still love him...lots!

As my mom is aging, I am learning so much about her. I suppose what she used to feel she needed to keep close to the vest, she does not anymore. She just spills the beans so to speak. She had four daughters but apparently she did not want ANY daughters or sons either in the beginning. We are not a prolific people. I see now it must be part of our DNA handed down from someone long in our pasts. We are one. Never reproducing or reproducing once. Then die. That is mostly the story of my family. We are shooting stars without spectators. Sparkle then die leaving nothing behind not even a memory.
 

Help, I have fallen!

Something is wrong with me. I can't blog. I am stymied. I have nothing to say. My blog is lonely. It misses me.

Do you pay a lot of attention to the music in a movie? I do. The music in a movie can make it or break it for me. Recently, I saw a movie that I had eagerly been anticipating for months. I so wanted the music to be fabulous but knowing who was composing it had me worried. His other musical scores never impressed me that much. He did not improve his reputation with me this time either. I was so let down by this particular score. There was a scene in this movie that could have been  pure movie gold had it had the proper music with it but it didn't. In fact, it had no music at all in the scene! What a disappointment for me. Do you think other people think about silly stuff like this? I mean, obviously, some people do because they are paid to think of stuff like that.

I wonder if I will be able to blog again in the New Year? Maybe. I am not sure. You know these blogs do serve as a good diary if you ever need to go back to joggle your memory about what you were doing at a certain time in a certain year. Maybe that notion will inspire me to blog more frequently and perhaps more interestingly too!

A Celestial Bathroom

Look at my wee lad trying to sleep in the bathroom on a towel! He was looking for some peace and quiet. My lawn was getting an overhaul at this time causing a lot of loud noises that this little fellow was not used to hearing. He assessed this as being a quiet and private place for him. See how only one of his eyes reflects the light? That is because of the situation he was most likely born with. He can see though! That is what matters. He is my moon and stars. He is full of joie de vivre!

Queen Cynthia of House Grimalkin

Something awakened me unexpectedly this morning. (Probably a back hoe but that is an entire other story.) The memory of a dream pervaded all of my thoughts. So invasive the dream was that I could not even remember in which direction to stumble off to the bathroom. I stumbled around aimlessly possibly looking like a lost duck in a whirlwind to anyone that could have seen me. Not remembering where the bathroom was, I decided I would feed the cats instead. Oh yeah. Where is the cat food? Where are the cats? Who are the cats?




After finding the bathroom, the cats, the cat food, the coffee pot and the sofa, I decided to think about my dream. I dreamt I was “the” queen, “a” queen or “some” queen. I was one powerful queen too. I had all kinds of supernatural powers that I was inflicting on some of my staff that were not performing according to Hoyle. My staff would see me coming down my stairs and duck in the closest door just to avoid my wrath. (Not sure why I was so grumpy. Probably related to my car incident yesterday but again another story).



My most amazing trait, however, was that I designed my own extensive wardrobe. I was a clothing designer queen. I was off the hook with my mad skills! I had created some modern Elizabethan highly festooned ensembles. I must draw up some of these fading images before I quickly forget them all! You never know when I might need a royal frock, right? Right!

Love At First Sight

A fiction book I was recently reading asked a compelling question. Do you believe in love at first sight? My first response was “I hardly believe in love at all much less love at first sight!” Then, after I thought about it awhile, I realize I do believe in love on some level. However, love is very complex and often what we think is love is not. At times, we mistake guilt for love. Other times we mistake obligation for love. True love is probably an extremely rare thing. You know what I mean…loving someone/something “just because”, knowing you would never get anything back from them in return. There was nothing in it for you except the opportunity to love them not because of anything they ever could or would give back. It is complicated when you really think about it, isn’t it? The answer to the original question is, no, I definitely do not believe in love at first sight. A funnier question is what difference does it make what I think? It is not like I am the Oracle of Delphi. Blogging is silly sometimes that way. Mostly I do it because it gives me the opportunity to make one of these little pictures.

So What About Nigel?

The name of this blog is Nigel's Mom. Then, why am I always blogging about the Jakester, Ollie and Henri Laurent with rarely a mention of the Nige?

Honestly, Nigel and I have an odd relationship. I must admit the harsh truth. I do not think Nigel likes me. There, I said it. Believe me, he knows how to yank my chain. He is super smart. He seems to regard me with disdain. He knows Jake and Ollie are extremely smitten with me. I see him looking at them like "You silly saps! You are falling for exactly all of the things she wants you to fall for!"

Henri loves me but not with as much fervor as Ollie and Jake. Those two cannot contain their exuberance when we start to play. Nigel will segregate himself from us, watching us from afar giving us looks of disapproval as if humans and cats should never fraternize.

Nigel resorts to vandalism. I have mentioned here before and provided evidence of his mischief. His latest antic was this. Last night, when I got home, I saw him pilfering my purse. He was looking inside it for something to 'lift'. He found my lanyard and was trying to sneak off with it but I caught him and hastily stuffed it into the bottom of my purse again, then, put away my purse. I did not put it away securely enough though.

This morning, I found my lanyard all chewed up. I should have known he was up to something last night when he got right behind me while I was watching television and proceeded to cough, spit, hack, gag and act like a deisel truck was stuck in his throat. I kept turning around looking at him at which time he would glare right back at me as if he was saying 'Save my life, woman! What is wrong with you? Can't you see I need the heimlich maneuver?" Little did I know it was because he was destroying my property.

He looks sweet but he is acting.

Destroyed property

Design Style

What is your design style? When it comes to home interiors, I love modern. I like the sleekness, the clean lines, the no frills aspect of modern. The more pared down, the more it appeals to me. I love for window coverings to be as simple as possible. I do not like a luxuriously draped window. Fabric hanging about that can catch dust does not appeal to me. I am similar when it comes to clothing. I do not like ruffles, lace or embellishments. I do not like for my clothing to have a lot of needless fabric. I like for it to be sleek. If I was going to buy another house which I am not sure I ever will again, I would get a mid century modern house. I love the lines of those even if they are a simple ranch design. Even galley kitchens appeal to me. I like straight, clean lines. Someday when I move, I doubt I will buy. I am kind of tired being tied to the money pit. I want to be able to leave something easily when I grow bored with it but all that remains to be seen for the time being. We will see what feels right when the time comes.

These houses in Dallas are the types of houses that I like. However, every city has a large section of 1950's houses because most of our American cities are so young.

Be safe. Be happy!

Jake's Window and Jukebox

My little boy is growing up. It is time for his neutering. I say that in a soft, low voice as not to scare him. However, he does not know what a neutering is. I dread it however. It frightens me because I know they will have to sedate him. His little body is so small. It just takes a wee amount of medicine to knock one down of that weight. He will not have to be under for long fortunately. The surgery will be done in a matter of minutes almost seconds. Another reason I dread it is because he will be frightened.


I wish little boy could stay little and we did not have to do this but time marches on. Marches? Why do they say time marches? Some people say time rolls like a river. I envision time as a circle spinning around like a vinyl record on one of those old record players. The record has bumps, dings and scratches in its surface. When we come back around, we keep feeling the same bumps and scratches. Those are the times you are reminded of something but you do not know why. Why do I keep thinking of the mall when I was 16 years old? Am I traveling over that area of ‘my record’ again? Only God knows things like that. The Creator of it all. We know nothing and are incapable of understanding, therefore, we must trust. We see through a glass darkly.

Do you ever feel like some doors were just never open for you? Like no matter how hard you tried to accomplish a thing, it was always impossible for you to reach that goal? It just wasn’t playing on your ‘record player’. Like in a dream, you ran, ran, ran never gaining on that thing or you caught it in your hand but it crumbled? I used to have a friend that told me all that kind of talk was codswallop. He said you can do anything you put your mind to doing if you want it badly enough. I said “Really? I want to be a Super Bowl quarterback. What do you say to that? I am going to really put my mind to it too!” That song is definitely not playing on my record player. By the way, I was also lying. I do not really want to be a Super Bowl quarterback.

Unless there is an unseen pothole looming up ahead in the road, “The Neutering Song” is the next tune about to drop down in Jacob’s jukebox.