Waiting Cat Nips

Winter bites with its teeth or lashes with its tail. –Montenegrin Proverb

Birds are one of my favorite things. Which is funny, because I also love cats. Unfortunately, the cats also enjoy the birds. But not in the same way. There are several feeders in the yard and we need to be aware of where the cats might be. There is a window in the dining room with a table in front of it. The table top is at the bottom of the window and we don’t keep anything on it, except a towel. (Sometimes stuff does end up there, but never for very long!!) This table top belongs to the cats. Outside the window is a tall double shepherd’s hook. On the hooks are bird feeders. Sometimes we hang a suet feeder on one side, but in this part of EO, suet melts or turns rancid in warmer months. So, we almost always hang up feeders full of seed. Moses has been known to sit in the window chittering at the feeding fowl. We usually get juncos and goldfinches and rose finches. Rarely do other birds show up.

One winter, while filling feeders, seed was spilled on the porch. I went in the house to get a broom and turned around to see Moses in the open door. Waiting. He didn’t get anything that day, but I had to take his photo anyway!

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A Smidge of a Fairy Tale

I wrote this AGES ago. When a friend read it, he called it a fuck fest and enjoyed it. I’ll only post a bit more than the first page here (the clean part). It is my version of a Cinderella story. February is at an end. A month to celebrate love. A love of books, words, seasons, friends, people, and anything else you can imagine! This Monday was reputed to be Tell a Fairy Tale Day. It is now Wednesday, I’ll share a smidge of one anyway! Because I love words and stories and fairy tales. I don’t believe in the magical tales, but I love them just the same. (ending song from Youtube)

All Hallows Eve– Kris, (Northen Amethyst)

Cynarilla twirled giddily in the tiny room off the kitchen where she slept.

“Godfather, this is the most beautiful costume in the world!”

Her Godfather smiled lasciviously. The frosty white spider web lace over abbreviated lavender with onyx and amethyst accents down to the black crystal shoes was rather delicious paired with the mask in the darker hues. The silver tiara atop her golden tresses was really the crowning touch. Making the whole ensemble memorable, magical, and seductive. A large ghost pumpkin in the yard was transformed with a couple of pill bugs, a cricket, and a sleepy snake into a proper retinue for a princess heading to a ball. Cynarilla was loaded into the coach with admonitions echoing in her ears.

“You must remember to be home by midnight. Not fair, I know, but it is all the magic  I can spare on  All Hollow’s Eve. And a bit of a hint, the prince, isn’t exactly charming. He has a taste for….” His voice trailed off as he looked at his young creation.

Cynarilla giggled.

“Will he eat me, Godfather?”

The darkly handsome Godfather looked at the full moon and the feminine confection perched in the carriage and nodded a definite yes.

“He just might, Cynarilla, he just might. Nor would I blame him if he did.”

He reached up and kissed the young woman on her neck, leaving a glowing beauty mark on her heart vein.

The magical spark that ran through the girl with the kiss started the coach and they were off! As the coach flew over the frosty ground, Cynarilla thought about her Godfather’s words. Being forced to live as a lower maid subjected her to many experiences beyond those of the pampered daughter she had been. After her parents died and her aunt and cousins had moved in, she was moved to the scullery. There were only a couple of servants left from before and they had almost forgotten who she had been. If her Fairy Godfather hadn’t showed up one tearful teenage birthday eve, Cynarilla would have thought her future as anything but a servant was for naught. She decided she wouldn’t talk while she was at the ball. It might prove difficult, but she didn’t want her evening hampered by consequences. Or at least, not too many. She thought about the prince and hoped for a magical dream come true.

She arrived late, hidden from the announcing footmen in a mist which vanished as her crystal shoe touched the dance floor. The shimmering vision of the froth of lace and flesh piqued the interest of the jaded prince and the two waltzed off into the night.

As they danced, he whispered juicy tidbits about the notables in the ballroom. She giggled at his stories, quickly realizing the handsome prince and his two equally handsome friends were as heady a brew as the punch being served in delicate glass. She didn’t care. She was having the time of her life and she loved being taken care of by the three most adorable men in the kingdom as they tag teamed her for every dance and refreshment. When Cynarilla noticed the music fading and discovered she was in a private nook off the ballroom, she felt her heart flutter in anticipation. The prince took her hand and led her out into the night while his friends stood close by.

Gently, he cupped her masked face in his hands and touched her lips with his. It was if all the power of every one of her impotent daydreams poured into their kiss. She felt thunder in her veins and lightening sparked on her skin. Their bodies pressed against each other in hunger, their mouths opened, and their tongues darted between sharp teeth. Under the passion, Cynarilla heard bells, relentless and measured.

Midnight!

She wrenched herself away from the stunned prince and ran past his visibly startled friends to the outer stairwell. She raced to the driveway and her waiting coach, tumbling in and losing one of her beautiful shoes. The pill bug team left the castle in a haze of descending fog. The bells finished tolling and Cynarilla was left in a disheveled heap on the icy road in thrice mended rags halfway to her home. The critters scurried and slithered away at the sound of hoof beats. Scared into new terror, she scampered into the bushes as three horses galloped past the lone pumpkin on the frosty verge. A mute reminder of those consequences.

Cynarilla hugged her arms around herself and shivered. Stepping across the road she noticed a black crystal shoe and smiled. She quickly picked it up, thankful it hadn’t been broken in the melee, and tucked it into her apron pocket as a memory of the Prince’s All Hallows Eve Ball.

Words of Me

Becky shared this word today. Atelophopbia which is a noun that means the fear of imperfection. This is my word. I am always afraid. I am constantly feeling inferior to almost everyone. I am not elegant and lovely and tall and buxom or smart and witty and clever and confident.  I am short and much more than chubby, moderately well-read, not much fun, and negative as a dead battery. (actually, dead batteries don’t have anything. So I’m more like one of those magnets that you try to affix to something and discover it can only work one way. Stupid things) I got an email from a friend back in Oregon. He’d seen my family blog and the photos below were in it. He said how one of them was uncomplimentary and I looked puffy and tired. Gee, I wonder which one? LOL  (Now, I feel even more shitty.)

 

Yeah, I do negative better on myself than when allowing others to do it for me. It is a type of rejection. Rejections is something I am totally familiar with, but not something I deal with well. I’m learning, though. I’ve become a much stronger person than I was a year ago this month. I’ve had to learn to do things by myself and I can. It may take a while, but I manage. In my marriage, I’m often put aside for other things. It is normal. I do it, too. I often make cookies and read at night when The Craftsman wants to watch TV. I’ll go for a walk when he’s just sat down instead of asking before he gets comfy in his chair. I’ll not hang out up at the shop while he’s working because I’d rather stay at the house. (I can read just as well up there) It is something the two of us do to each other. He tells me he gives me all the time he can, which makes sense. He is only at the house a couple of hours from 6-10 or 1030 pm, before he’s too tired for much more than tv and sleep. I need to make sure I fit in his schedule better.

I know I do some things well, not many, but a few. Unfortunately, the things I do well are unmarketable. I am an aging stay at home mom with a liberal arts college degree in silly courses, and a terrific volunteer who has nothing to go on with. The kids are grown, my spouse and I have nothing in common (or little), caregiving is my whole life, and I’m a doormat. I have to stay where I am, I have two very expensive diseases that I can’t live with ignoring. (literally! I had to fight to keep an appointment for myself. Mom is getting her dentures started at the end of March. Which means I can’t leave til those are done. If then.) I must learn to be content in following other lives or with stolen moments where I’m on the edges of those lives. Hoping I don’t fuck them up somehow, because I don’t belong. Kind of like those games on Sesame Street where one of these things is not like the other. I’m the cotton candy in the organic veggies aisle!!

As a Shadow Girl my life is behind others. I understand this, it has been that way my whole life. I take care of others to make them feel better. It is what I’m made of. I had to laugh. My sister called today and she told me I needed to take care of myself because, ‘She couldn’t do all this with mom by herself.’ (WTF??? We haven’t seen her since Christmas!! She works less than 10 miles from mom, she calls every so often and is constantly sick or busy with her family) The Craftsman tells me he’ll do things better when I return. Almost every night, very late, in his ‘I’m tired, I’m sorry I didn’t call, Goodnight, love.’ texts, he adds ‘I love you.’ I know he’s busy, but he is thinking of me. (Speaking of which, it is now 1230 am there and I’ve not heard from him yet. He’s probably doing something.)

I had to stop reading the Anne book about the librarian abducted by aliens, because it is a fairy tale sort of soft porn love story. I can’t see fairy tales (even if I did schedule part of one for Wednesday’s post!), I’m not that kind of material. I’m more PB and jelly on white bread than succulent finger snacks with wine.  So, I decided to read the YA book about horses for King Arthur instead. Love and support among animals is even nil in my world, but it is much easier to read. Thankfully, it will be March soon. Redwall books are on the agenda. (Strider and I got to meet Brian Jacques—pronounced Jakes and not like the name of the French guy on that really old TV show who made everyone realise there was an exciting world under the ocean!) He’s a good March read because there is always a harvest going on and cooking and baking and feasts and they are great fun!

Darkness lurks often. Especially after a really bad time with mom. We don’t love each other. It might be easier if we did. We tolerate each other. I provide a means to keeping her alive, in spite of the fact she’s doing as much of what she wants anyway. I’m useful. I also found out tonight that mom thinks my sister only wants her money. I told her she’ll get half of everything, as it is written in her will. She got really mad. It seems she loaned 10 grand to the kid for something and they’ve not paid it back. She’s given a lot of money to them for all kinds of things. She doesn’t think it is fair Jake should have it all and I get nothing. I honestly don’t care. I did want to be able to get a place up here with what might be left. However, there won’t be much and that makes me very happy. The less finances after a death, the less there is for people to fight over. I did tell mum if she didn’t like the will, she could change it. Nope, she’d rather bitch about the past.

I keep thinking how I’ll get everything taken care of after mom is gone and then vanish myself. I honestly don’t think many would notice. And I don’t care. I’m not really interested in anything anymore. Why should I be? It doesn’t matter. I used to think it did, but it doesn’t. It would be such a relief to not be afraid anymore. To not be in the way.  To not be in charge. To not be worried about being pretty or good enough. To not have to be a bother. To not need to make sure everyone else was ok. To not be a financial drain medically. (note: I’d have to make sure there was some sort of closure. Just to vanish is stupid. My ex brother in law did that and nothing can be done til a couple more years pass, I think. Although, if he showed up, I might just off him myself!!!) One of my friends said we need to go on an Inside Passage cruise (which I’ve always wanted to do) and be taken care of. I laughed. I’d probably not be allowed in the very front of the ship to watch the waves. Besides, I couldn’t afford to do it. I’d feel guilty every time I needed to tip someone because it wouldn’t be enough and I’d be sure to mess something up somewhere.

The circle of atelophopbia. I’m sure it will roll over soon. It generally does.

The Money Plants in my Oregon yard

Garfield, from Garfieldhugs, talked about and then posted pictures of her money plant. I thought it was very interesting, because the plant in my Eastern Oregon yard is also called a money plant or dollar plant and it is totally different! The plant I have is often considered a weed. It has a bushy long stem with serrated leaves. The stem has tiny hairs up and down the plant and the flowers are either white or purple. They may be other colors, in my yard, they stay to these two hues.  They are great companion plants and smell very nice. I like to use the dried seed stems in fall decor, too.

After the plants go to seed, little pods, like coins appear. Those pods open very easily and seeds are broadcast everywhere. These little pods are also thought to look like coin purses or silver dollars. It has many names such as the money plant, the silver dollar plant, the honesty plant, and moonwort. If only real money spread like this flower does! Oddly, before I left, I noticed many of my plants had spots. It was a fungus, so I hope they survived and are still around. (apparently, they don’t like watered with the UGS system.)

Seething in Silence

wash

I wasn’t going to post much more on my whining. I know how irritating it can be to listen to someone bitch and moan about the woes of life. I know encouraging interesting things are better for a person to read. At the moment, I do not give a damn. I’m angry at mom. I’m so mad I could leave. Thankfully, I don’t have my own car and it is very cold out and dark and I don’t have the phone numbers for any cabs down here. Besides, if I called a cab, I wouldn’t have anywhere to go. So, I’ll just sit here and seethe in almost silence on WP. This will be gross, so read at your own risk.

I went shopping today. Mom always asks if I brought home any ‘good stuff’. Or not food. I did get me ice cream (It wasn’t my favorite flavor, the store didn’t have that in a smaller container. I won’t get this kind again), but I also decided to get mom some donut holes. I figured they’d last for a while and they were small. I also bought these little frozen quiche finger food things. They were in two packages inside the box with 16 in each packet. A serving was 4, or 18 carbs. I heated one package of  the pies for dinner and managed to eat 7. Mom ate all the rest. She said she was going to save me two and when I went up around 10 to check on her and see if I had room for those cute little treats, mom said they were gone. As I turned to leave the kitchen, I noticed the donut container half full. She had eaten a BUNCH of those holes.

So, at 4am I usually get mom up. I was awake and tired and thinking she’d go empty her bag and then I could toddle off to sleep. Except, her fitting needed changed. She had exploded out of it. She doesn’t get it. Grease is BAD for her. I finally think the septic is better because she doesn’t put her waste down it anymore. She’s stopped eating cheese puff balls because her fitting would blow so much. She’s decided to stop eating croissants all the time because when she ate them, her fittings would leak. I would lay dollars to entire donuts those holes blew it for her. Those and the way too many cheesy quiche bites with the pie crust shells.

The very worst part? Mum had her surgery a WEEK ago. One god damn week ago. They cleared her to go and she was fit as could be. If you didn’t read all her paperwork, you would never know she was sick.  Yet, today? She is in a great deal of pain, in both the abdomen and her surgery area. She says one of the spots is burning pain.  She has stitches in two places, her spine area and above her hip. There is a wrap she is supposed to wear to keep this area near the hip secure. that is where the pump is and the wrap is to help the pouch they made in her body not fill with fluid. Anyway, the fitting blew and the wrap was covered in shit inside of it.

I was not nice about having her get it off. She tried to lay flat and I told her she needed to get up so I could carefully unwrap it from her body. I managed to get remove it. Then, her dog wanted inside and while I was getting garbage bags and what not, he decided to put himself right under my feet. He got snippy because I had to move the garbage can so it was in his way. The cat decided to crawl under mom’s bed and scratch on the year old mattress. It took almost 45 min to get the new fitting in place because the stoma kept oozing. I could not get it to stop. Mom says I’m not fast enough with putting on the fittings (I am never fucking good enough for anything anywhere.). I much prefer her stomach to be clean of feces before adding paste and glue.

Anyway, I finally got it on her, took the wrap to the basement to wash, and found out she’d been in the basement while I was out shopping. Damn her. She told me she was going to stay put today.  She even went out on the porch where it was icy. She’s falling to sleep at a moment’s  notice and she is hurting badly. Those basement stairs are not safe. The basement was a mess of my crap and it is so hard for me to remember to clean it spotless to an almost invisible person every day I plan to do errands. I got the wrap sort of clean with an oxy washing soap, it has a terrible stain on it. The tag said to not wash  the wrap in warm water and to keep it from heat. I am now letting it drip dry and mom is not wearing it. She also has a bit of a shiny mark on her abdomen where the edge of the wrap was rubbing. She said it isn’t a problem and she is fine.

Damn that woman. Why am I even here?

Love a Book

I told you I had made some book markers for a friend who is moving from Alaska and I’d share them when they were finished. Sir SSC was highly instrumental in their final completion, he laminated them for me (so much easier to spell that word than say it!). I took a group photo, but will also show each picture accompanied by the phrase I carefully pasted onto each bit of card stock. I know it was an old fashioned sort of crafting. Most people would just build the whole thing on the computer. However, that takes a bit more technology than I happen to have at my disposal! Two are ones I came up with since. I printed out each photo and trimmed it to fit on a marker the size of one I got from my author friend Linda Boulanger. (I am also not sure how this will work. There are 8 photos and when I put the page together in the blog editing, it looks a lot different than it does on the ipad…)

Love a book or a lot of books this year, but please please PLEASE don’t dog ear their pages or fold them out til their spines break. A book will last a long time, if  you take care of it.

These first two are not ones I have made yet, the last one I wasn’t sure about. It made me smile.

Captions: ‘For-get-me-not’, the plaintive cry from a book.  “In the winter she curls up around a good book and dreams away the cold.“-B. Aaronovitch

 

Folded petals are pretty, folded pages are not.’ Reading without reflection is like eating without digestion.’ -E. Burke

Medicine for the soul“-over door at Library at Thebes  “He fed his spirit with the bread of books.’ E. Markham

Books are a uniquely portable magic.’-Stephen King  ‘Women and books should be looked at daily.’ Dutch Proverb

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A most wonderful time of the year-

Winter is my natal season. I love spring, summer is lovely, and fall is magical, but I’ll always cheer for winter. January is not all that grand, unless there is a lot of snow. February, however, is amazing! I don’t get how people can look at winter and not see the beautiful world encapsulated by snow. The skies are stunning, the snow is rarely just white, and the trees write calligraphy on a crisp parchment of blue or white.  Even grey days are not a boring dull grey. They are pearly and tinged with mauve.

 

Snow has many names in the Native Alaskan Yupik and Inuit languages. Most of the time, on the Peninsula, we get dry fluffy white flakes. Sometimes they are wet and good for snowmen. One winter eons ago, the volcano Augustine blew up, coating the snow. Back then, we didn’t know volcanoes made nasty horrible toxic stuff. We made black snowmen and tramped around in it and had a grand old time. (in the spring, the fine ash made excellent spices for mud pies) There are so many colors in snow, it irks me that people can only see white. The crystals reflect and shattered prisms are broadcast over the ground. Snow talks, too. Sometimes it can be a muffling silence and others it squeaks as you step down the drive. When you hear it fall off a limb, the sound is gentle and startling. (when you are under a limb when snow falls off, it is also startling!!) A thread of snow on a dark branch or on bark is a work of art which won’t last. The filigrees of crystalline lace are brushed away in an instant, replaced, or vanish and never seen again.

 

Snow machines and skiing and dog sledding are just three of the popular winter sports up here. (Snow machines are also called ‘sleds’ or snow mobiles or snow go’s) Hockey used to be always played outside on a rink, (today there are indoor arenas) cross country isn’t just a fall running sport (Kikkan Randall is one of Alaska’s most famous of fourteen 2018’s Winter Olympic athletes), and some enjoy surfing in the winter waves (follow link!).

My fervent wish for my birthday is always to have new snow. Living in Oregon, it’s generally just a dream. Even up here, the last couple of years, it hasn’t happened. This weekend, my niece is celebrating a birthday and she got snow! A very good time of the month to have it appear. This weekend is also the start of a winter celebration in ANC called Fur Rendezvous. It culminates with the beginning of the Iditarod (sled dog race not entirely accurately portrayed in Disney movie Balto). Now, I’ve never been able to go to the big city for this festival (My dad said I was too young as a kid and I was still too young as a college kid, go figure!!), but I know it is full of many kinds of fun things to do for all ages. (I took the photos as screenshots a while back, hope they are ok to use!)

 

Another one of the best things about February (besides all the most awesome people born in this month.), is the lengthening of days. I really don’t like June 21. I hate knowing the days are going to get shorter and shorter. But, winter solstice is a day to celebrate! It is as if the building of hours starts slow on December 21 and then in February, they are almost rushing to stuff daylight into each minute of the short month. Eventually, the hours even out and settle down before June, when they shorten again.

There are many quotes about winter and February. A good many of them are negative and annoy me. Like this one, “February is a suitable month for dying. Everything around is dead, the trees black and frozen so the appearance of green shoots two months hence seem preposterous, the ground hard and cold, the snow dirty, the winter hateful, hanging on too long.” Anna Quindlen

In Alaska, we get longer days and snow and sunshine and sunsets and awesome holidays and birthdays and snow (I already said that, huh???) and uncertain temps and it really is a wonderful time of the year to be alive! What isn’t to like????

Busy or bust

I should really call this ‘When you are busy all day and get nothing done!’

I had planned on doing a great deal today. Mostly house elf things. Alas, Mum and the weather disrupted things a bit. She didn’t sleep well, part of that was cuz she wanted to see the men’s curling and figured it would be broadcast in the wee hours. Another part was cuz she didn’t feel good. (I had to change one fitting on Friday night.) Then, we got snow!!! I love snow. (almost as much as books or kisses. Somewhere I read snowflakes are kisses from angels or an angel in heaven. I like the idea of the old lady in the sky shaking her feather blanket.) So, this morning I shoveled off areas full of snow and filled feeders. It was perfectly silent.

Finally, I left mum. I needed to get something I can only get in the next town over. I also decided to get more glucose tablets. Except, that pharmacy no longer carries bottles of glucose tablets. (I’m still stunned. It’s a pharmacy and they only carry little tubes??????) I decided to go to the phone company and completely forgot they aren’t open on Saturdays. So, I got ice cream. I left the town a different direction and stopped at another pharmacy. They had tablets, but the generic ones. I got two containers anyway. I also stopped at a larger chain store to see if I could replace my gold amethyst stud. (I’m not sure where I lost it. I have the back, but not the pretty part) I figured if I found a place that did piercings, I could get it there. I was informed if I wanted a piercing to go to ANC, they are thought to be more professional, and I’d probably not be able to find a stud of that caliber today. (it appears the stud from the 80’s was a much higher quality than the ones used for piercings today). {NOTE: I just read this over and saw that entendre….laughing!} The store was having a sale (not a very good one, but enough so I decided to get a couple of things.). I had purchased a trio of panties awhile back and one of them was orange and not pink. I don’t have anything orange in my clothing and in my craziness, I must match as much as possible! So, now I own orange. I didn’t get earrings or new tennie runners (there are a bazillion different kinds of those out there!!!! I was slightly daunted and dazed.), but the tops were paid for using a very aged gift card I found in mum’s stuff. I had no idea it was any good.

I decided not to go shopping for groceries and headed over to elf. I didn’t have a lot of time, but I managed to squeeze in about an hour. I think I messed up the vacuum again, too. House elves are really not at all technical. I did listen to part of the ladies curling championship as I swiffered and ran the sweeper over the floor. (My tools were a ton cheaper than those used in Pyeongchang.)

Dashed out of there, annoyed I only spot elfed, and decided to get mom a rotisserie chicken and a few other things. When I got home, mum was really under the weather. Her glucose was super high and she’s not wanting to go to church Sunday. Which is good and bad. Good, because she really doesn’t need to play the piano and bad because I was going to leave her there and go shopping! Maybe I’ll go anyway. I really need to put the photos from my laptop onto something else. I’m running out of room!!! I also need another photo thing. I think I changed the settings from where it was and it is using up more chip. The drive wasn’t plowed either (it was where I elf!!!).

Had to change another fitting tonight. She’s letting me do it because she hurts. We have to remove the wrap that is around her abdomen to hold things together while she heals. It is a lot of work. There are two incisions on her back. One where the pump was situated and the other down her spine. (I’m not sure exactly what the second one is for. I am going to call on Monday and ask.) Anyway, it is too uncomfortable for her to change things at this time, so she’s letting me do it. I’ve also done a few shots for her, because she’s forgotten. She’s also in pain again. The pump probably needs calibrated up (they start out with a low dose), but they’ll have to wait a few weeks til we set up an appointment to visit the big city again. (I may not get to return to Oregon for Easter.)

Meanwhile, I’ve had 4 cans of diet Pepsi this afternoon (maybe 3) and my tooth hurts and I really really need a shower!!! I rinsed off after elfing, but I didn’t have time to actually clean myself. I’ll wait for mum to go to bed. She said she was going to do that earlier than usual, but she’s reading. (I come by my addiction naturally!)

Kiss me a Hug

I’m sorry I’ve not written. I haven’t been able to muster up the energy to say anything. Not because there isn’t much to say, I’m just a tad numb. First about mum and then a bit from where I stand at the moment. I am beginning to hate this year, I’m still a lover of February and thank goodness we have more snow in the offing, but I hate this year. (Bad part about the new snow, I need to drive to the next city over to get a single item for mom care. I should have gotten it on TH when I was in town and the roads were good and I the next town was just a skip away.)

She’s doing absolutely perfect. Everyone is pleased with how well she came thru the surgery, how well she is recuperating, how healthy she is. It amazes people she’s had so many major cancers and has 4 small tumors growing inside of her. They love her attitude and fortitude and how nice she is about the trials she’s facing. (I’m the bitchy whining worn out one!) Our trip north was almost canceled because of fog, the pilot took two approaches before we managed to land. Got mom to the hospital and they prepped her. She was in love with the bizarre air blanket they put over her. Most of my time was spent alone and waiting. (Literally. As you can see from the photo, no one else was waiting for a patient in surgery!) I read and was pretty bored. (I was also amused by the mountain scape under the appointment window. It looks a great deal like a sleeping woman with erect nipples. Please, tell me you see it, too!) I didn’t manage to eat lunch or dinner that day, but I managed. One of my friends picked me up around 11pm, after mom flew thru the over 2 hour surgery. (recovery and what not was longer)

Her doctor was more concerned with the pain part and forgot she takes insulin. I gave her a shot before surgery and in recovery. Once she was in her room, the nurse said she’d have to do it. But, they didn’t have orders to do it, so they’d call in the morning to see if they’d be allowed to. They had to call the doctor twice. Once for each insulin. I arrived and we sprang her by 2. I was so tired, but she was her normal independent self. A friend took me out that night to see a play. (I love live theatre!!!) I think it was probably the 7th time I’ve been out in public with someone other than my mom since last Feb!!! (I’m a difficult person to take places. I tend to be a bit embarrassing and am on the lower edge of elegant. My friend is VERY elegant and incredibly confident. In high school, she was one of those pretty, smart girls who roamed the upper section of the cliques. I was in a lower middle clique). Some of those times include when I’ve met a friend briefly in places like fast food spots or the laundromat!!! At any rate, it was a splendid play and not quite like the movie. Little Shop of Horrors. I really do think my friend was amused with how much fun I had. There was someone behind us who was quietly singing with the cast and, during intermission, one of the people in front of us was heard to say ‘I didn’t realise this was so dark.’ And then, ‘I always get this mixed up with ‘Rocky Horror Picture Show. (I immediately wondered if Audrey 2 provided salad for the dinner scene, to go with the meatloaf……)

 

Got back to the hotel (we had been asked to change rooms for a maintenance thing. I was glad, the new room was a bazillion times warmer!) and talked to Strider for a bit. He was telling me about the movie, Black Panther. (I’m not even going to think about it!). We flew back home the next day. Mum sat with a friend, so I was able to get a window seat on the other side of the plane. I didn’t know what I was looking at, but I did enjoy myself. It is funny to see how straight the marks man make on the land are and how curvaceous the natural landmarks are.  I was incredibly harried, but I managed. We got home, eventually, and she was knackered. Not tired or worn out, knackered.

So, am I. I have been close to tears or in tears so much the last month. Since being back this week, I’ve slept and slept and read. I did see a doctor again (somehow, I am behind on payments and need to rectify that as soon as possible. I hate debts) and he upped my Toujeo from 28 to 30 units. I’m supposed to go back for a GYN thing next week. Had to cancel because of mom’s appointments. Haven’t heard from The Craftsman, except in texts since last Sunday. (I’ve called and talked to Little Bear, he also went to see Black Panther.) OK, that isn’t true. He sent me a Christmas package this week. As you can see from the photos, it was a bit amusing. Little Bear bought me the gift card, The Craftsman sent the silver dangly earrings (they were prettier after I dusted them off!!). In the box were also two boxes of my expensive test strips (I needed to use them before they expired. He had been picking up the spendy strips and saving them til I returned, I’ve been using the less expensive ones up here.), a Christmas card from friends in GA, two pieces of mail associated with mum (they were sent to Oregon because that is my mailing address on my ID), a devotional book given to women in the church, and all those lovely air filled packing pouches! I’m sure I’ll find something to do with them.

In this last month, I recalled this quote from one of my favorite books (both I’ve mentioned in here many times, it’s from Daddy Long Legs, by Jean Webster): “One doesn’t miss what one has never had; but it is awfully hard going without things after one has commenced thinking they are his….” I’d have to amend this quote to read ‘thinking they might be his!’ Human touch is so important to me. I often reach out and kiss people a hug because I need to touch. (I got an unsolicited one the other day from a receptionist! A hug, not a kiss.) Hearing a voice is powerful, conversation is beautiful. Feeling a two armed hug is beyond incredible. I’ve gotten some and I want more. Unfortunately, when a person is a super hero sort of Shadow Girl like I am, it is easy to be overlooked or hidden. I know where I am is not as bad as the places others are. I realise I chose this situation. I understand I have everything in the world I need. Returning to Oregon and the existence there actually seems rather nice after these ridiculous seasons. Cooking and making lunches and baking and cleaning house and reading favorite books with the cats and weeding and shopping once a week sounds like a lovely agenda. (Boring, but it is my house and my yard and I’m used to it!)

Kissing you a hug from Kris, Shadow Girl! (I need a costume with purple…….no capes!)

Book Cat Nips

“Other people’s stories may become part of your own, the foundation of it, the ground it goes on.” Ursula K. Le Guin.

21

If you have followed my blog at all, you know I enjoy books. Cats and books sort of go hand in hand. Many authors have cats in their world. Hemmingway was partial to polydactyl cats, bringing his name to the genetic trait. (Moses is a Hemmingway cat, which is tons easier to spell than polydactyl.) Books about cats are always fun. When the boys were small they loved a series about a Siamese cat by Mary Calhoun. Henry had some pretty amazing adventures for a feline! That Darn Cat (the original movie) was hilarious. James Herriot was always good for a cat story, not to mention being well known for ‘wrapping a cat’. Almost anyone under the age of 30 is familiar with the series Warriors and Tad Williams book Tail Chaser’s Song is one shocking and long cat saga! Jennie is also an endearing cat story with a highly annoying ending (which made it un-endearing!!).

In January, one of my favorite authors died. Most people know Ursula K. LeGuin as a writer who wrote outside of the box and peopled her worlds with hues other than white. My eldest fell in love with Earthsea in his middle school years, using the name of the Dragon of Pendor as one of his first online names, Yevaud. I introduced the boys to this wonderful author with her illustrated children’s book, Cat Wings. Giving cats wings can be found inside ancient religious beliefs and even Henry David Thoreau ‘discovered one’. Giving common alley cats wings to escape is more than magical (although in the Marvel world of Thor, there are Cat Elves). Mrs. Le Guin wrote an entire series about these friendly creatures, they are truly a bridge between today and tomorrow.