The Same Old, Same Old only Cooler

I did not think it ever would but it finally did cool down here. Recently, it has been in the lower 30's at night. That is great! I am an ice queen! I love it to be frosty cold. I have not turned on the heater in the house or car yet. I suppose if it gets down in the 20's, eventually, I may turn on the heater. I do not worry about myself because I know I will never get too cold but I do worry about these fur balls. However, they know what to do when they are cold. Find a comfy, snuggly blanket and pile up in front the television! That way mom won't have anywhere to sit and she might walk by some cat food then spontaneously decide to put some out for a snack. I think Little Jake is acclimating to living in the house quite well. Here he is snuggled up with his best friend, Henri. These two can tear a house down when they set their minds to it.

Cats and Water DO NOT MIX

The little Jacob although wild and rambunctious is somewhat reserved when it comes to venturing into virgin territory. For weeks, he has been interested in the bathtub. He saw Henry and Olliver jump into it and jump back out seemingly unscathed. Therefore, he recently got his nerve up to jump up to the side of the bathtub and look down into it. He did that for several days surveying the lay of the land after I would exit the bathtub from a bath. He found the remaining water remnants mesmerizing. Cats like to look at water. They like to play in small quantities of water. They do not like to be immersed in water. Come to think of it, cats must be Episcopalians.

After many days of jumping into the tub after my exit then using the slick surface to practice his skating skills, Jacob let down his guard. This morning, he jumped into the tub while it was still at least one quarter full. Surprised is not strong enough of a word to describe its effect on him. Shocked would be a better choice. He flailed, swam, rolled, scrambled then lept from the tub in a split seconds time. It took him at least an hour to dry himself.

Cats and Flies Do Not Mix

When you have a boatload of cats and a fly gets into the house, bad things happen. Let the evidence speak for itself.

Skanky Bites the Dust

Remember Old Aunt Windy and Skanky Possum? (Old Mother Westwind Knock Off) Well, if you can, hang on to that thought.

This morning as I was leaving for work, I looked up into my side yard as I was backing out of my drive way and saw a sight that caused my heart to skip a beat. I saw a dead animal in my yard. I feared it was Puff Daddy, a beautiful young feral Ragdoll. The animal I saw was his coloration and all I could see was its back. I slammed on the brakes and drove back into the driveway. I got out of my car, ran to the side yard but as I approached, I could see this.

Is this poor old Skanky? What do you suppose happened to him? He did appear to have a broken tail but no other significant wounds. Do cats kill possums? I have seen them kill squirrels with one swift break of the neck. This is the third dead possum I have found in my yard this year. He is not 'playing possum' either. When I picked him up to dispose of his body, he was stiffer than a board. I know rigor sets in pretty fast. I estimated him to be dead just over night. Poor old skanky thing. Finding these dead animals is just one of the unpleasant tasks of running a 'nature preserve'.

In an Autumnal Haze



I haven't been blogging much lately. Why not? I guess I have nothing to say. That isn't it. I have plenty to say but nothing I want to say in a public forum. I just have been quietly thinking as I often do.



Dermatologically Challenged Henri

I have been busy lately with my "movie thing". You can't really take pictures in a movie theatre. Well, you can but it would be frowned upon and you might get tossed out.

In the mean time, little Henri's skin ailment is clearing up.  He is allergic to chicken. From now on, only venison  for little Henri.

Henri at last vet visit



Little Jake Just Because



Henri Looking Good Yesterday

20 Forthlin Road

Source

 The other night I saw a movie about John Lennon. It was called “Nowhere Boy”. I have been on a Beatle high ever since. I love being on a Beatle high. Don’t you think it is wonderful to have a passion? Like for me, one of mine is The Beatles. I have many passions. But yeah, back to The Beatles, I love ‘em. Can’t get enough of ‘em. I can talk about them for hours. Fortunately for me, I was born into a pack of Beatle lovers so we have lots of people to share our passion. That is a beautiful thing.

A few years ago, we packed our bags and flew off to Liverpool. That is how passionate we are about ‘our boys’. Well, we didn’t exactly fly to Liverpool. We flew to London first, then, took a train trip up to Liverpool. The city’s name, Liverpool, sounds ugly doesn’t it? I expected a disagreeable place. That does not describe the city at all. In fact, it is an attractive seaside city planted amid gentle, green rolling hills. It is a port city with an abundance of shipping and transportation bustle. And did I mention there is magic in the air?

This magic to which I refer is difficult to explain yet it hits you right in the face like a blast from a fired up amplifier. It is not a subtle thing. To see the city, to breathe the air fresh off the sea, to know this is the birthplace of John, Paul, George and Ringo during World War II, there is no denying that something abides called destiny, kismet, fate or whatever you wish to call it. Do you believe in coincidence? I do not.

We took a tour called The Beatle Experience that left from the Liverpool waterfront at the Albert Dock. There we met many others like us of similar passion. There were a few Americans but lots of British, French, and Germans.

I had often read prior to our trip that The Beatles had financially impoverished childhoods. They did not really. George and Ringo had it rougher than John and Paul but none were what I would call living in poverty. As youths, George and Ringo lived in what are called ‘two up, two down’ small flats with their families. Their quarters were cramped but not unfortunate. John at Mendips and Paul at 20 Forthlin Road had larger, more comfortable homes. Both John and Paul went to an architecturally mesmerizing private school and wore “Harry Potteresque” type uniforms.

Probably the most interesting thing that happened to me while on this tour occurred at 20 Forthlin Road, Paul’s childhood home. The house is open for tours. As we were leaving through the front door, a big cat ran up to me from the yard. He ran up to ME. It is a small thing but what are the odds? Out of all of those people, that cat wanted ME. Do you believe in coincidence? I do not. It is a beautiful thing.

With a Little Help from my Friends

Jacob has his own doll and he likes it. Lately, he has been playing with his doll quite a bit. His doll is Sylvester. Sylvester looks like Jake a little but Jake is cuter, of course. :)

I do not usually get large segments of time to do house work so I play 'catch as catch can' when it comes to house work. However, I always make a point of doing it. It just doesn't get done all at the same time. Okay, last night, I was vacuuming.

I talk a lot to my kitten boys. We have long chats. Anyone with pets understands this. These conversations are often funny. I should record our conversations. Last night, in between jaunts of vacumming, I was telling them how I really would appreciate it if they would help more around the house. I even suggested to Jake that maybe he could get a 'modeling' job since he is so darn beautiful. Of course, Nigel, Ollie, and Henry immediately got jealous so I had to convince them they were model quality too and could in fact go with him when auditioning for commercials and what not. Henry said he could drive as we had been out in the car a lot together lately. He thinks he has the driving thing down.

So what is all of this leading to? This morning as I was walking past the vacuum where I left it last night, someone (Jake) had propped up Sy against it. I am pretty sure Jake told him to 'get to vacuuming' because no way in heck is a 'real cat' going to work but 'mom needs help around here'.

When I walked back past it about 30 minutes later, it looked like this.

I guess Sy passed out from exhaustion already.

Lights, Camera, Action!

I have mentioned more than a few times that we are avid readers and we have a deep love of movies especially ones based on books. Do you find it immensely intriguing how you can love the same book genre or movie genre as one person yet completely dislike another genre they like?  For example, one sister and I have total fascination for one book genre while my other sister rolls her eyes at us when we get to talking in animated tones about them. Yet that same sister and I have the love of another genre between us that we can completely relate to with each other. One of my sisters and I have a big month coming up in November. Every week promises to bring some fun our way with our books and movies. The beauty of it is we can use it to celebrate our birthdays too. I even plan to win a prize!!! The last time we went to one of these big festivals, she and I were the only two people in the ENTIRE theatre who knew the answers to the prize questions. We both have been studying in anticipation of this years prize. Wish us luck!!!

The Me of Now and The She of Then

I often wish I could go back in time and speak to the girl I was at 16. She of then needed me of now. She of then could have benefited from my years of experience. She had no one to provide insight to her. Sure, she had people who cared about her that offered much pragmatic advice. She did not need pragmatic advice. She was different. Pragmatic advice would never do for her but she did not know that then.


When she was just a girl


She expected the world


But it flew away from her reach so


She ran away in her sleep


And dreamed of paradise every time she closed her eyes.~”Paradise” Coldplay

I dream of visiting her across the years and walking through the front door to find her listening to her music. Would she know who I was? I do not think she would. She would like me. I would love her. She would listen to me attentively. Even she in her wide-eyed innocence would grasp the weight of what I would share with her. She would know that it could save her. She of then wished for me of now but she did not know it was me of now that she was wishing for then.

When she was just a girl


She expected the world


But it flew away from her reach


And the bullets catch in her teeth


Life goes on, it gets so heavy


The wheel breaks the butterfly~ “Paradise” Coldplay


What would the me of now say to the she of then that could save her? What the me of now would have told her is different from what the me of 10 years ago would have said. The me of now would tell her if the me of now could have that it is understandable not to know what to do with your life at 16 because you do not know yourself then. Me of now would tell her that she will still not know herself at 30 or 40 or 50 even. She will never completely ever know herself. No one ever does. It is a mystery that cannot be known in this world but the important thing is to make your life beautiful and never, ever waste a single second on anything less because this could be paradise.

This or That?

Which do you suppose is more comfy? This?

Or that?

I can barely bring myself to look at him sleeping on that window ledge. Poor little pitiful baby. Can you believe he stayed outside on my patio for 3 weeks before I took him in??? I cannot believe it. I do remember being exremely worried about his precious soul. I had to watch him for a time though to make sure he did not exhibit any bad signs of disease before bringing him in and remember I was getting out of the 'cat business'. Famous last words, right? I never will forget seeing him for the first time out on that patio that Saturday morning when I went out to feed the ferals. It is raining tonight. I am so glad he has a comfy, dry bed!

Repurposing Cat Litter Boxes

I have a problem with clutter. My kitchen table is too near the front door and I have a tendency to walk in and dump everything on it. It bothers me but I never stop doing it. Okay, the kitchen table is clean now. Nothing is on it except what is supposed to be there.

Second problem, I love magazines. Magazines can get out of control quickly. Yesterday, I looked down at this and had an idea! I like to repurpose. We use lots of this product around here so I needed to figure out a way to repurpose these boxes.

Admittedly, I could have done a much better job but this was sort of my prototype. Next time, and there will be a next time, the end result will be more "professional" shall we say.

 I made one of these type boxes we use at the library for magazines except mine is not that faux woodgrain stuff often found in the library archives. I tried to amp mine up a little bit. It is not great but it works. It serves its purpose.

I could have used a brayer to smooth out the sides a little but didn't. I am not so much into details, ya know? I think I am what is called a '30 thousand feet' person. My boss knows this trait about me. He knows I can fix almost any major issue but do not give me the job of looking for 33 cents because it will never get found. I would rather watch paint dry than mess with details. I could never be a cataloguer.

The magazines are organized and maybe Nigel cannot chew on them so easily. I put some of my little quilted cats by it to make it look better. Next time, I will finish out the inside of the box or maybe paint it even. There are lots of options. Try it if you have a problem with clutter like I do (did).