I have long admired anita_margarita's heart for the strays that wonder onto her porch.  That has not stopped the running off of felines who come wondering through this considerably off the beaten path domicile.  Mostly because the 14 year old cranky old man cat who thinks he is a dog normally is the runner-offer.  But one day a couple of weeks ago, this sweet young cat came through with the purpose I believe of moving in.  She greeted me one early morning from the other side of the backyard fence as I opened my bedroom door to fetch wood for the fire and then climbed/jumped up the fence to look me in the face to say hello.  Off to work I went, knowing that the cranky old man would run her off and tried not to consider any other alternatives.  Later that morning she came a rubbing up on my guy's leg while he worked about the place.  Cranky old man cat did not seem to care,  They tussled a bit around the place and she took to sleeping in a Queen Anne's chair on the front porch.  Needless to say, she's got house privileges now and both the cranky old man cat and the Akita from hell dog have suffered her to eat from their respective food dishes.  I'll e looking into getting her fixed soon.  She's young enough to be pulling the suction non-slippers from the bathtub (I guess because she can) and chasing her tail in the same bathtub.  So what do you think of Blanca? 




























Here's one of her pretty little face:  

Raised Roman Catholic with all the trappings of the old Latin Mass, I have never let go of the spirituality of Sunday.  I find my reflections go to the what ifs and how comes and whys of this world. Life is not as rough as it was the morning of 9-11-11...  The scheme of workings with all the loved ones seems to be of their own choosing and on their own paths, now it comes to us and what the heck are we doing into our golden years without them?  Personally and as a pair, the meanderings of timelessness.

  

I must be anxious about this 10 year anniversary of some guys making a very large imprint on the country with their coordinated suicides.   I've awakened worrying about everything: the grandson 2,000 miles away, the son disillusioned by life and struggling to make his way outside of baseball, the garden with grasshoppers and night creatures, the dog with no command of voice running at night in a land of dog shooters, the husband who is always my worry for his worry, and the work that has become almost intolerable for the lack of vision, cooperation and team work with less net pay than ten years ago.  What to do about it?  Get up - walk about - fix tea - think about what's bothering me, write about it - order the mind and BREATHE.  I neglect the BREATHE, it sometimes flits about like a butterfly on the edge of my consciousness.  I find it so consoling and yet forget to do it so often.  I think that that's because I know deep down that breathing deep and focused will always fix my angst and until I've got my fill of worry, I cannot just fix it!

Today will be a day of breathing.

Every few years the little hoppers have a real good hatch.  I've seen worse years than this, but they are beginning to make their presence known. I'm trying different ways to deal with them.  Neems didn't work, garlic-hot sauce didn't work, spraying around the garden didn't work.  I'm running out of ideas.  The wonderful squirrel wall isn't keeping some inside kritter from munching green tomatoes, eggplant and melons on the ground.  Put the smoke bombs down the hole, never saw where it came out... feel like I've just gotta sit there and keep everything company to keep them safe!

Pot wars may be starting out here in the outback of America. These compasinos have been driving by about twice a day I think to get water from the free flowing creek a couple miles in. The growers across the road hollered at them this morning telling them to go back where they came from. I guess we'll see if they find another route to water...

Why can't I let whatever is making me cry and cranky as a dragoness with a thorn in my paw GO???  I have, for as long as I've known who I am and what I believe in, been able to let things go and breathe through all kinds of ugliness and horrors!  This ugly storm cloud has stalled squarely over my heart!  I hope it passes soon...  this is noooooo fun!

Where would we be in life if it were not for drama?  Familial, interpersonal, professional, personal, national, global, you name it it's happening!  All around us whether we pay attention or not!  I do believe that some are not stricken with this aflliction, and for my part I truly do try, but when one's children bring it into our sphere, well, I cannot walk away.  I can make decisions, I can attempt to mitigate the ramifications on myself and my own.  At some point their drama becomes their very own.  What a day this has been, from utmost syrenity to screaming drama.  The pendulum does swing...

 You know, once I get burned by someone I have considered a friend, I have not yet reached a level of consciousness that completely forgives and forgets.  I try, but this mind of mine also tries to understand why, why  why...  I get completely bogged down and forget that really sometimes people just don't care about their relationships in the same way.  There seem to be folks who wander about with the most superficial sense of the world around them, not considering the connectivity of it all or caring, I suppose.  That is a disappointment to me, not that I matter at all, just I would like to think we are all important to one another.  And that that matters to that circle of people that surrounds me.  

At the short end, I move along - along the longer path these thoughts stall me...

My guy built this incredible fence around my little 16'x20' vegetable garden.  I have previously bloatiated about this fence and the war with the local squirrels.  The fence has been very effective in keeping out the critters and a happenstance conversation with a grower neighbor identified another barrier to successfully growing food to eat.  He called the water out here "poison".  His context was completely different, however, the water to the garden is now filtered along with the water to the house which has always been filtered.  Can't imagine why this never occurred to me before...  if it's good enough for us, why wouldn't it be good enough for the plants?  Mostly because for the last 35 years I've figure out what grows ornamentally and stuck with those things that survived, roses, photinas, wormwood, honeysuckle, lilacs...  anything else went into planters...  I always chalked it up to the shallowness of the soil and the clay content...  NOT!!!  Filtering the water has made a phenomenal impact on the success of our vegetables!  

 It has been so long since I wrote, I cannot begin to cover all of life that has happened since my last post.  Sounds a bit like confession, feels a bit cathartic, like all I have to do is say the words and all my laziness is forgiven.  Won't probably last for long...