Wednesday, April 12, 2006
Posting Again
It has been a week since my knee surgery and I hoped to be further along. Knee is doing fine but muscles in calf are terrible. Using heat, cold, massage, rest, physical therapy, and lots of drugs. Finally I have thought of a therapy that may actually help. I arranged my laptop computer into a position where I can actually type. I just know blogging will be the best treatment. No guarentee how often I'll post but here goes.
I have an idea for my writing blog. I'm going to write a bit on a memory of mine; probably it will usually be the 1940's or 1950's, but who knows.
I have never written fiction but have been trying to write some stories about what I remember. I call these life stories. I often jot down things on sticky notes, hoping maybe they will expand into a story someday. And sometimes they do.
I got to thinking about this and wanted to make sure that you understand that I fully recognige and pay homage to many things I didn't have in my past. Maybe I'll sometimes include a bit on them too.
Do You Remember When....
we put decals from all our vacation stops on our suitcases. My parents were both teachers and we often traveled during the summers. Whether it was Yellowstone National Park or The Lincoln Memorial, I would carefully consider my purchase at each place, peel off the back and attach the decal next to the last one on my suitcase. I had that suitcase for a long time. Although I don't regret not having the smelly old thing now, I sure wish I had a picture of it.
Is't It Great That Today We Have...
stretchable fabric bandaids. Today the large ones on my elbows are protecting my floor-burned skin I got from moving around in the hospital's sandpaper sheets. I'm afraid that rough hospital sheets have not change during my life.
It has been a week since my knee surgery and I hoped to be further along. Knee is doing fine but muscles in calf are terrible. Using heat, cold, massage, rest, physical therapy, and lots of drugs. Finally I have thought of a therapy that may actually help. I arranged my laptop computer into a position where I can actually type. I just know blogging will be the best treatment. No guarentee how often I'll post but here goes.
I have an idea for my writing blog. I'm going to write a bit on a memory of mine; probably it will usually be the 1940's or 1950's, but who knows.
I have never written fiction but have been trying to write some stories about what I remember. I call these life stories. I often jot down things on sticky notes, hoping maybe they will expand into a story someday. And sometimes they do.
I got to thinking about this and wanted to make sure that you understand that I fully recognige and pay homage to many things I didn't have in my past. Maybe I'll sometimes include a bit on them too.
Do You Remember When....
we put decals from all our vacation stops on our suitcases. My parents were both teachers and we often traveled during the summers. Whether it was Yellowstone National Park or The Lincoln Memorial, I would carefully consider my purchase at each place, peel off the back and attach the decal next to the last one on my suitcase. I had that suitcase for a long time. Although I don't regret not having the smelly old thing now, I sure wish I had a picture of it.
Is't It Great That Today We Have...
stretchable fabric bandaids. Today the large ones on my elbows are protecting my floor-burned skin I got from moving around in the hospital's sandpaper sheets. I'm afraid that rough hospital sheets have not change during my life.
Sunday, April 02, 2006
Calico Joins Us
Before Missy and Feller, I had another cat live with me. As anyone who shares a home with a feline knows, cats believe the home is theirs and they only tolerate the people living there too. Our first cat choose us for her family too.
We named this cat Calico because of her obvious beauty. She was probably about a year or two old, had been blinded in one eye by something penetrating it and was pregnant. No doubt she was a drop-off.
I'll never understand why people think if they drop an unwanted animal off in a rural area, it will somehow magically be okay. The animal usually stays on the road waiting for the owner to come back. Often it gets hit by a car or attacked by another animal. Drop-off animals get hungry and have no place to stay dry and warm. Somehow Calico had survived all this.
One day she saw my son playing in the back yard and thought he looked like a family she wanted. The child and cat said meow to each other and the first thing I know, the child is standing in my kitchen with the cat in his arms and asking if he can feed and keep her. I reminded him about not touching wild animals that came into the yard. Wild animals normally wouldn't come into the yard during the day and if they did, they might have rabies. My son assured me this cat was not wild and was healthy. He just knew it. The cat in his arms purred her agreement. Of course it had no collar and no one claimed it.
This brings me to another thing I just don't understand. Why don't owners put collars on cats? They usually put them on their dogs but not on their cats. Some people say that their cat doesn't like the collar. Then try another one. Or stand your ground. I always kept a stretchable or break-a-way flea collar on my cats. It is easy for a cat to get a paw or leg through a collar and not be able to get it out, if the collar doesn't stretch or break. I also put an ID tag on this collar. Over the years, we have had many cats come by. Any of them with collars were sent back to their families. For those cats without collars and who couldn't convince us they were tame, we took them to the dog pond to be euthanized. Where I live, the correct name for the place is the animal shelter but that seems like an odd name for a place that kills diseased and unwanted animals. Feral cats carry diseases and are a danger to our pets. They breed more feral cats and kill a lot of birds and other animals.
Enough of this for now.
Before Missy and Feller, I had another cat live with me. As anyone who shares a home with a feline knows, cats believe the home is theirs and they only tolerate the people living there too. Our first cat choose us for her family too.
We named this cat Calico because of her obvious beauty. She was probably about a year or two old, had been blinded in one eye by something penetrating it and was pregnant. No doubt she was a drop-off.
I'll never understand why people think if they drop an unwanted animal off in a rural area, it will somehow magically be okay. The animal usually stays on the road waiting for the owner to come back. Often it gets hit by a car or attacked by another animal. Drop-off animals get hungry and have no place to stay dry and warm. Somehow Calico had survived all this.
One day she saw my son playing in the back yard and thought he looked like a family she wanted. The child and cat said meow to each other and the first thing I know, the child is standing in my kitchen with the cat in his arms and asking if he can feed and keep her. I reminded him about not touching wild animals that came into the yard. Wild animals normally wouldn't come into the yard during the day and if they did, they might have rabies. My son assured me this cat was not wild and was healthy. He just knew it. The cat in his arms purred her agreement. Of course it had no collar and no one claimed it.
This brings me to another thing I just don't understand. Why don't owners put collars on cats? They usually put them on their dogs but not on their cats. Some people say that their cat doesn't like the collar. Then try another one. Or stand your ground. I always kept a stretchable or break-a-way flea collar on my cats. It is easy for a cat to get a paw or leg through a collar and not be able to get it out, if the collar doesn't stretch or break. I also put an ID tag on this collar. Over the years, we have had many cats come by. Any of them with collars were sent back to their families. For those cats without collars and who couldn't convince us they were tame, we took them to the dog pond to be euthanized. Where I live, the correct name for the place is the animal shelter but that seems like an odd name for a place that kills diseased and unwanted animals. Feral cats carry diseases and are a danger to our pets. They breed more feral cats and kill a lot of birds and other animals.
Enough of this for now.
Feller Joins Us
One May evening in 1981 my husband and I were reading. The windows were open and I heard this crying sound. It sounded something like a baby, so I went out on the front porch and then realized it was a kitten crying. I went out in the yard and saw this tiny black and white kitten coming down the driveway. He came right to me and was soon followed by his sister. I looked for a car that had maybe dropped them off, but saw none. They were very small and I figure they were about four or five weeks old. They didn't know how to drink from a bowl. After several unsuccessful tries at various types of nipples, I let them lick warm milk off my fingers. Finally they began to lap it from the bowl.
The next day we tried to find where the kittens had come from. No luck. Then my husband came home and said there was a nursing cat that had been killed down the road. So we figured it was the kittens' mother.
Months later my neighbor across the road admitted to me that the kittens had come from her barn and it was their mother who had been killed on the road. Before this, she denied all knowledge of them. She said she know I would give them back if I knew they came from her place but if she kept quiet, I would give them a good home. My neighbor also solved another mystery I had been wondering about. The kittens had obviously been socialized to people and feral kittens wouldn't be. It turned out my neighbor had been handling the kittens and leaving food for their mother.
I named the male cat Feller and the female Missy. A year later I gave Missy to my daughter in Pennsylvania. Both cats had many mishaps and used up their nine lives, plus some. Each of them died at the age of 19. They must have had good genes. I have many good memories.
One May evening in 1981 my husband and I were reading. The windows were open and I heard this crying sound. It sounded something like a baby, so I went out on the front porch and then realized it was a kitten crying. I went out in the yard and saw this tiny black and white kitten coming down the driveway. He came right to me and was soon followed by his sister. I looked for a car that had maybe dropped them off, but saw none. They were very small and I figure they were about four or five weeks old. They didn't know how to drink from a bowl. After several unsuccessful tries at various types of nipples, I let them lick warm milk off my fingers. Finally they began to lap it from the bowl.
The next day we tried to find where the kittens had come from. No luck. Then my husband came home and said there was a nursing cat that had been killed down the road. So we figured it was the kittens' mother.
Months later my neighbor across the road admitted to me that the kittens had come from her barn and it was their mother who had been killed on the road. Before this, she denied all knowledge of them. She said she know I would give them back if I knew they came from her place but if she kept quiet, I would give them a good home. My neighbor also solved another mystery I had been wondering about. The kittens had obviously been socialized to people and feral kittens wouldn't be. It turned out my neighbor had been handling the kittens and leaving food for their mother.
I named the male cat Feller and the female Missy. A year later I gave Missy to my daughter in Pennsylvania. Both cats had many mishaps and used up their nine lives, plus some. Each of them died at the age of 19. They must have had good genes. I have many good memories.
Feller 1981 -2000
Recent blog discussions have reminded me of a cat who chose to live with me. This is a poem I wrote when Feller died.
One spring day you came into my life,
I heard your cry and called for you,
You came running into my arms,
And lived with me for nineteen years.
Fur was black with toes and breast of white,
Face and neck always needed a scratching,
Appetite for food and milk and popcorn, too,
Meows so bold and purrs heard everywhere.
Stared and meowed asking for a lap,
Found the softest place to sleep and dream,
And the warmest spot where sunshine fell,
Curled up with paws across his eyes.
Helped my husband find earthworms after the rain,
Patiently let the night's mud be washed off,
Crawled into a sack to hide, wait, pounce,
Froze every muscle while watching the string.
Accepted the dog but remained the boss,
Knew when I needed a cat to comfort me,
Loved everyone and welcomed all who came,
Roamed the great outdoors but always found home again.
I wish I could include a picture but my scanner is not working just now. Maybe later.
Recent blog discussions have reminded me of a cat who chose to live with me. This is a poem I wrote when Feller died.
One spring day you came into my life,
I heard your cry and called for you,
You came running into my arms,
And lived with me for nineteen years.
Fur was black with toes and breast of white,
Face and neck always needed a scratching,
Appetite for food and milk and popcorn, too,
Meows so bold and purrs heard everywhere.
Stared and meowed asking for a lap,
Found the softest place to sleep and dream,
And the warmest spot where sunshine fell,
Curled up with paws across his eyes.
Helped my husband find earthworms after the rain,
Patiently let the night's mud be washed off,
Crawled into a sack to hide, wait, pounce,
Froze every muscle while watching the string.
Accepted the dog but remained the boss,
Knew when I needed a cat to comfort me,
Loved everyone and welcomed all who came,
Roamed the great outdoors but always found home again.
I wish I could include a picture but my scanner is not working just now. Maybe later.
Writing Too
Darilyn has inspired me to start a separate blog, from my quilting one, for writing. Anything goes. I have never had many inhibitions, so why not. I am very sentimental and interested in people who came before me. I wonder if anyone will be interested in my life someday. So who knows what will appear here.
Darilyn has inspired me to start a separate blog, from my quilting one, for writing. Anything goes. I have never had many inhibitions, so why not. I am very sentimental and interested in people who came before me. I wonder if anyone will be interested in my life someday. So who knows what will appear here.
