Imagination

When I first came home, Mum’s pastor and I seemed to be on the same page. That was a few years back. She understood mum was not always the person she claimed to be. Over the years, it appears I’ve changed. I’m now over protective, I don’t let anyone help me, I need to let my sister ‘step up to the plate’, and I need to let mum alone. The few times the pastor has visited or called, mum has been chipper. When I share mum’s not well, I’m disbelieved.

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Today mum was supposed to attend a quilting party. Mum had expressed interest in this gathering to the person hosting it, as well as the pastor. I knew mum would be unable to attend. The pastor called to remind mum about it this afternoon and I said I’d tell her. The pastor wanted to talk to mum. I let her and mum cheerfully said she was doing something else. Mum is doing something else. A project she’s mussed up here and there and she is not cheerful. She is weak and tired and whimpering a bit. She is forcing herself to do things because mum feels she is a weenie. Mum is constantly telling me she needs to get stronger. I get she does not like losing the threads of her life,  I get she needs to pretend, it just makes it damn hard on those who actually see her.

I almost wish she had gone. If the gathering had lasted for longer than two hours, then people would  notice mum isn’t as well as she pretends. I do let her alone and so far I’ve only helped her open up bottles of low sugar Gatorade, gotten her paper (it was NOT in the box and she insists she can get it herself, but today it was too cold out), and listened to her mumbling about how this project is not working. She did tell me she wanted my help, which was not entirely a good idea. (I can follow a pattern, but I cannot eye ball fabric to make a creation!) She’s done her own self-care and her glucose today was 145 at breakfast and 394 at lunch.

I do have trouble letting others help me. It has gotten easier since I’m letting mum do things on her own. I don’t need to find anyone to give her shots, she can do those badly all by herself. I do need to help change fittings (something NO ONE wants to try to do and the hospitals get paid big bucks for that procedure!). She has not wanted visitors and will tell me no if anyone calls to ask if they can come over. She says she wants to do many different things and then doesn’t want to when the chance pops up. I do leave her alone to do her errands (many of them things she’d put off) and they can last up to 6  hours if I’m lucky.

 

I won’t let my sister help for a couple of reasons. First, Jake is a drama queen. She reminds me of a loose live wire in the middle of a storm. All around her things are going on that need attention, but nope, she is flailing around making a big deal of herself and if you touch her you might die. (Jake often drives me nuts.) She’d treat mum like a huge deal and hover (Jake is a hover parent. I am too, but I tend to hover further away and let my kids get into trouble..I am still mad I let Strider fall out of the tree when he was 6. It was just a little fall and his dad went to catch him, but I held him back and CRACK! Badly broken arm.) Mum is also not nice to Jake. I’ve mentioned this before and it makes me feel icky when mum speaks in mean words to her. The last reason I don’t want to have my sister help is that she probably won’t unless it is convenient. She works less than 6 miles from mum’s house and since March, she has visited mum probably 5 times (one was in May, when The Craftsman visited). She says she’ll give mum eggs (Jake has a chickens), but I need to go pick them up where my sister works. We were gone for a few months last winter and she rarely cleaned out the kitter box, didn’t clean the oven (THAT would have kept mum from trying it on her own!) or fridge except to toss out a few things, and tried to get the snow plow guy to send the bill for two houses to her. (she said we could pay her, I opted to pay the plow people myself and made her mad)

In just the hour since the pastor has called, mum has decided she needs to stop working on her project and take a ‘brain break.’ I think she forgot to take her insulin at lunch, too. I heard her go in the kitchen and say ‘oh, shit.’ And then she got something out of the fridge. When she returned to the fridge moments later, she said ‘that should work.’ When I asked what would work, she said she was talking to herself. I’m betting it is the shot of insulin that should work.

But, I’m probably making it all up.

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Christmas Tree Cat Nips

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Cats and Christmas go together like snow and pine trees.-anonymous

Cats and trees are an interesting mix. Once a person has a pet (or a small child) many kinds of things vanish from the holiday motif. Tinsel may be useful for springing Santa from jail, but it is extremely bad for cats. Ornaments which dangle and shimmer are cat catchers, too. The water in the stand is often consumed by more than the tree. Then, there is the train we put under the branches every year. No matter how often that train circles the track, Moses will almost always derail it once. Ribbons are bad, too. Rarely do presents come adorned with ribbons and if they do, they generally don’t get to keep them!

We used to always get a real tree for Christmas. When we lived on the Oregon coast we were less than 5 miles from a tree farm. It was so easy to choose the tree the day after Thanksgiving and then cut it down on the way home from church the second Sunday in December. Wild Eastern Oregon trees are a bit more difficult to bring home and they are not as well shaped. (because they are WILD!) The tree farm ones in EO are lovely but more expensive. When we did get a real tree, we’d bring it in, set it up, and let it acclimate to the house temps before adding décor. It was a great deal of fun for kit and kid.

Kila escaped into the tree the first year we had him. Today, he’d most likely tip the tree over with his weight (in this photo, he’s sitting on something behind the tree)! He’s a very chubby cat. Chubby with a photogenic face!

Twisted Top

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Sleeping is a sacred experience. It isn’t just anyone who can get me up before what I term is a decent hour. I don’t have a paying job where I need to clock in and out. I don’t volunteer anywhere I need to look presentable. I shower after midnight (unless I’m doing house elf duties and feel I can snatch the time to take one where I’m elfing!) and sleep when I can. Unfortunately, not being a cat means my rest patterns are a bit muddled!

I’m also a gal with a fairly frisky libido. Lately, my last reads are erotic in nature. Some nights I play and imagine others I actually sleep and dream. It is crazy what kinds of the latter occur. I don’t remember them (I wish I could!!!) entirely. The snatches I do recall are just down right bizarre! I often wonder if, like Scrooge, the figments of my imagination might be a bit of cheese or gravy (although, I don’t eat cheese often anymore and I’ve never been fond of gravy!).

The one last night took place, oddly, at night. There was a doctor who was visiting mom in a pickup truck. The truck held an older daughter and a dog. The doctor was really impressed with the lake below the house (which was larger than it really is). Mum was dying (well, I guess that part was real!) and he was just checking on her. There was also a man, a bit younger than me, who was putting flooring in the house. He was VERY cute. I don’t remember much of that person, but I kinda think something happened!!!

I know I dropped off to sleep after 2 and woke up at 4 to check on mom. Because I check on mum (not as often as I used to, I’m trying to make her more independent), I wear real clothing when I sleep. Especially on top. (Putting on both a shirt and sweats or leggings at 2am when you are groggy is a bit of an adventure in dressing!) When I woke to turn off the alarm, I felt tied up. I was super sleepy, but was sure mum hadn’t gotten up yet. I needed to shake into wakefulness!  I had on a tank top under my sweatshirt and discovered the tank top was sinfully skewed. (truly!)

I straightened myself out, went upstairs to wake mum and the dog, and discovered it was snowing! The dog wasn’t nearly as impressed as I was. Like my dream, it didn’t last long, but oh it was so much fun while it lasted! (Unlike the dream, I did manage to take a couple of photos to remember!)

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Sparklies and dangles

“You can always tell what kind of a person a man really thinks you are by the earrings he gives you.” Audrey Hepburn

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Just a few of my fun earrings (note: Dolphins, AT&T balls, and lethal diamonds are in this photo with the zipper pull ones from NYC) 

I laughed when I read this quote by Audrey. I absolutely LOVE earrings. (I may have mentioned this before and I’ll probably mention it again!) If I have on something simple like a sweatshirt or t-shirt, earrings always make it a bit more special. I may not wear makeup, but I have a hard time going out of the house minus earrings! My absolute favorite kind are ones that dangle. They can dangle on hooks or posts, as long as they dangle. Shiny ones are great fun, ones that chime or ding are favorites, and I adore the odd looking sorts. I used to get fishing flies and snip off the hook and make earrings from those, Little Bear brought me two largish zipper pulls from NYC and said he thought they’d make great earrings (they DID!), and Strider now makes earrings from cracked marbles and rocks. (He also is trying to sell them!)

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Strider has come a long way in learning what mom likes. He went to Hawaii with his HS band, so I asked him to bring me back some earrings. I was looking forward to shark teeth or flowers or well, anything! He brought me home a single 4 foot wall fan because he couldn’t find any earrings! (That August I picked up some tiny blown glass dolphins and had them painted blue. I call those my Hawaiian earrings!) Little Bear has always been creative in finding me things to wear on my ears. He’d even shop at Claire’s with the girls from his Sunday School class. (They thought it was cool he’d go in the store and they loved helping him find things for his mom!) The Craftsman vacillates between awesome choices and ones that make me wonder. (He sometimes will get odd sorts of threads that dangle or just posts. I don’t often wear the latter sort. I have double holes on each side, but the top spot is reserved for amethyst posts I almost never remove.) I do have a favorite pair of dangles I call my AT&T earrings. They are purple wire balls and bounce when they are pulled from my ear and dropped. Little Bear, as a baby, did just that during a Christmas Eve Candlelight service. The church auditorium sloped to the front and after it was over, I was scrabbling around on the floor under the first pew looking for wayward jewelry. (Thankfully, The Craftsman always carries a flashlight and I was able to see it, even if I couldn’t grab it right away!)

Earrings are my favorite gift and I can talk about them forever!! I have some excellent Wallace and Gromit ones from England, KD gave me some lethal artsy ones for Christmas one year (seriously, they are from the market in Seattle, appear to be made from metal, and are in the shape of large diamonds with vicious points), and mum just regifted me a pair of myrtle wood snowflakes I bought her once eons ago.

Sparklies and dangles are the way to my heart. OK, ONE of the ways!!!!!

Odds and Ends

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Monday the repair person should arrive to attend to the range. It should be interesting! (I plan to take pictures and notes!) I spent much of Sunday working on cards to send hither and yon. I also downloaded my absolute favorite December book. (That was a bizarre experience. I don’t quite understand how to ‘find’ books on ‘FREE’ book sites and download them. I looked for ages to find ‘Heidi’ and never did find another author. Then there was one book I thought I had downloaded that I can’t find anywhere! I even shook the iPad. Nope. Not there.) Every year, at the start of December, I read ‘Hans Brinker or The Silver Skates.’ I have two copies in Oregon, one is a gorgeous hard back book. The other is a worn paperback. I didn’t get to read it last year, but I don’t think I’ll read it twice this month!

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Arrow pointing at green ‘frost rocket’ like sled.

The last few days have been a trial in finding things. My sister sent me a text to tell me what my niece wanted for Hanukah. She also told me where to find it. We went in the store and mum saw what I was looking at and said she had that exact sled in the shed (alliteration rocks!). I was dubious, but mom insisted. Well, I found one which is very similar when we got home. Now, I need to figure out how to get to it. I am seriously thinking of letting JL go in after it. A sort of ‘treasure hunt’ gifting. (She is also younger, taller, and more agile.)

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Mum also has been using thread with the fleece. White thread. She has spools of all different colors, but insisted the only one she was wanted was white. I found and gathered up a few spools for her (Hunting and gathering skills never die!) and kept one for me on a shelf in the family room. I turned off the lights one night and it lit up!!!! The thread was GLOW IN THE DARK!!! I decided I’d take that spool back to Oregon with me when I leave, for no other reason than it is cool. (Is this how it starts? The too much crafting stuff?? One spool at a time?) Speaking of finding things, I found MORE YARN in the store room.

 

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The snow was so nice to play in on Saturday and I was sort of nervous it would melt in the rain today. Thankfully, it didn’t. (HOORAY, but I did have to fix my snowman!) The moon came out Sunday evening and I decided to go for a walk. It was even around 30 degrees F, so warmish. I did wear clothing, but not much! A zip up hoodie and one of my winter wraparound skirts with my winter boots. Yes, I did unzip the jacket for most of my walk and no, I did not flash the guy driving the giant snow plow on the road. (I did cover up before waving at him.) I also dropped my phone, burying it in the snow. I was entirely thankful for the case I bought last January. It has paid for itself over and over again.

Books I’ve read.

This last week, I have been reading. The wonderful books by Marie Brennan I can’t finish. Well, I can finish the books I have, I just didn’t know there were five. (excuse me while I call the library….ok, last book is on reserve. It was in the NEW books area.) There is nothing more irritating than being close to the end of a book and realise it is not ending. Thankfully, she wrote the fifth one this last year. (at least not everyone’s 2017 was spent in somewhat fruitless endeavors!) So, I will wait til Tuesday to find out what happens next! (I KNOW I took a photo of the Brennan book to share with my eldest, but I can’t find it!)

It was also suggested I read an incredible wonderful amazing book I now need to purchase in hard copy. ‘The Gifts of Imperfection-Let go of who you think you’re supposed to be and embrace who you are.’  Brene Brown. I think I cried as I read each chapter. I’m going to write this motto on a paper and put it where I can read it twice or more every day. In the morning, ‘No matter what gets done and how much is left undone, I am enough.’ And in the evening, ‘Yes, I am imperfect and vulnerable and sometimes afraid, but that doesn’t change the truth that I am also brave and worthy of love and belonging. ‘

On Friday, another book came in. Another one a friend suggested. ‘Mother’s Who Can’t Love’, by Susan Forward. I read that one like I was gulping down water after being on a boat with nary a drop to drink. I devoured it, scribbled notes, and was stunned. Oddly, I didn’t cry. Not yet. It is too close, I think.

She described my mom perfectly. When she asked the reader in one of the latter chapters ‘What do you want from your mother?’ I was scared by my answer. It wasn’t a nice loving daughterly one. Yet, mum did not cultivate a nice loving mom and daughter relationship. From my notes: ‘I’m not responsible for [mom’s] moods, feelings, or distorted perceptions of [me]. They belong to her. I need to make boundaries between her life and mine.’ (I also need to go back and see what on earth that word was I scribbled down while reading. It sort of looks like…actually, I can’t even TELL what it may look like!!!) Forward also talked about the verbal knife of criticism some mom’s used (she didn’t add the knife had a thick coating of peanut butter guilt, she talks about guilt elsewhere.). A truly eye opening book I need to forward to my sister.

Another thing she said, which I laughed at and then later sat up straight in bed and said, “OMG!” was along these lines. ‘It is always thought a woman marries someone like her dad, she really marries someone like her mom’. My spouse is nothing like mom. He’s tall, dark, and handsome (literally. 6’2”, darker skin, bearded, brown eyes….’) and does not like clutter (unless it is hulks of vehicles). He’s exactly like the mountains I am surrounded by and exactly what I thought I wanted in a man. (I may have mentioned that before) But, in some ways, they are frighteningly similar. Like mom, he is independent and still needs someone else to depend on. The Craftsman is entirely creative in almost everything he does, I always feel inadequate in a hundred ways, I’m responsible for almost everything (making most decisions and plans), and he is distant and solitary, while at the same time, he enjoys helping people. He’s well-liked by everyone and is easy to get along with. He does realise mum is toxic, so do the boys! He doesn’t realise he himself is, in a different way.

I’ll never forget one night I got called in to work at a cannery when we were dating. He’d just arrived to visit. He was so upset I had to work and asked if I could call and get out of it. So, I did. And I got fired. (He was ok with that.) He likes me to be busy, as long as I’m home when he wants me there. I laughed to myself the other night, when he called. I asked what he’d do if I came back to Oregon and he said in a baby voice, ‘I’d hold on tight and never let go.’  I responded (tongue in cheek) that he was cute. I did not tell him I do not want another child to care for. (Phone confrontations are as bad was written ones, you can’t see anything and besides, I don’t confront well.) I also don’t like being dictated to. (I don’t mind being tied. It just has to be made fun!)

It was crazy to find my marriage in a book on bad mothers. It is disconcerting to realise how many broken people there are in the world and how much money and care is put into fixing them. It is a joy to know there are people out there who can help mend shattered souls. It is wonderful to know I’m not the entire problem in any of those areas I’ve taken on as crosses. I’m also 100% thankful I learned to read and hide in other worlds and places. It really did make being around mum and being responsible easier. It still does.

Sort of Handy

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There seems to be a bit of a muddle. Kris is not really all that handy around the house when it comes to projects. Let me ‘splain.

Growing up I was the one who was responsible. I hadn’t a clue how to use tools like screwdrivers and saws. I had a fix it toolbox  full of words and I jumped in to problems smooth over hard spots. My various dads never encouraged me to use them (OK, my last daddy probably would have loved for me to learn how to be mechanical. I remember when I was starting to learn to drive a car. Dad took me to a shop to show me what happened when you put a clutch in on a stick shift. I was complexly unimpressed.). When I married, The Craftsman was exactly that. He was the man who used tools and I watched. (For real. When we were dating, I’d sit in the shop reading while he worked on cars.) After the boys were born, the garage was ‘dad’s house’ and the house proper was where mom was.

For more than 25 years I was encouraged to use a paintbrush more than anything else. Little Bear would often ask, if he saw me with a tool, ‘Does dad know you are going to use that?’ Little Bear  introduced himself to his dad’s tools. He just waded into the garage and figured things out until his dad realized lessons might be in order! Often, if I needed something done, I’ll ask Little Bear. The Craftsman will do things for me, eventually. He is also incredibly creative. He’s made me bookshelves, trellises, a super shelving unit from an old TV cabinet, put up banisters, and always keeps the cars in fairly good condition. (There was that one time…We had used my car on Saturday. Monday and Tuesday I drove hundreds of miles in hot weather, overheated my little wagon, and it gave up in the middle of nowhere on a road under construction. That was not a good experience at all.)

When I returned to Alaska several summers back, it was at the instigation of a good friend, KD. Since mum needed things done, KD helped me. A lot. He let me use his tools, gave me advice, let me make mistakes, and I learned so much. (Did you know that when you get that foam spray on your bare hands it is almost impossible to get off???) Those two months made me aware there was a whole world out there I was unfamiliar with. I had gotten my feet wet and wanted to keep wading.

Since then, I have gone to youtube and friends to learn how to do different tasks. Simple things like chopping wood is a joy of hard work. (Granted, in the time it takes me to chop 5 logs, the guys could have 15 done and that rankles a bit. BUT, they aren’t here and I am and it is so cool to know I can!) If a project is beyond me, I know when to call in help. This summer when the garage had no power, it turned out I needed someone with more expertise. The oven/range will be addressed by an appliance guy on Monday of next week. (The bike still needs tweaked, but muscle is something a tool can’t always make!) The septic, I’m not entirely sure ANYONE knows what to do with that. (It has been better since mum has not dumped her waste bag into the toilet…crazy, but true) Every year I learn something new and it is pretty cool.

I’m not as good as some gals I know, but I am very thankful and proud I have grown into more than straight head and star screwdrivers!!!

‘It’s an easy fix.’

I should have seen it coming when the oven element caught fire.

After searching online for a replacement, I called GE direct.  (at least I thought I called GE!) The lovely lady who I spoke to (in a short while and not the hour they gave me for waiting), was incredibly helpful. She told me exactly what I would need, the cost, and that it was ‘an easy fix.’ So, I ordered it. (Of course, she was sitting in a chair somewhere on a phone line, but I’m sure her script did say it would be simple.)

The box finally arrived by FedEx. Mum kept saying she didn’t know the UPS driver, it wasn’t her favorite buddy. (I just let her talk.) A friend had offered to help, but she was unavailable and I wasn’t feeling confident enough to try anything at the time. (I’m very cautious around electricity, high places, and most gatherings of adult peoples.) Eventually, I girded up my lonely loins and decided to tackle the project tonight.

The box was addressed to Chris, the city was not spelled correctly, and the part inside looked exactly like one I saw in many places for much less than what I paid. But, when doing research, found it might not fit. I also discovered the place of origin was ‘Haier Appliance Parts’ in Walnut, CA. (It was a huge company online….) I was already dubious and now I was more so.

Dad used to restore juke boxes, so there are many kinds of devices used for removing all kinds of screws around the house. Thankfully, The Smart Cookie, showed me what I needed to use and I had a pretty good idea of what to look for. Once I got the screw driver (It really is odd calling it that, the end part is screw driver like, but the top of it is all odd…), I decided to empty the oven of the racks (had to carry them downstairs. Mum has stuff everywhere in the upstairs part.), and see if I could unplug the oven. Nope! (The second photo is on the range itself.)

I texted a couple of people, including The Smart Cookie, and he was the only one who responded. AFTER I used the odd tool on the ‘hex heads’. (I am not sure I used it correctly, but I managed to get the screw things out. One did stick a bit.) The next photos I sent showed the best bet might be to get further assistance. (the third photo has where I pulled it from where it was attached…it has fuzzy stuff on it. The Smart Cookie thought it might be insulation and that this seemed to be an unusual wiring set up.)

Nothing in mum’s world is easy. Maybe the person I can find will also help me with the washer. Did I tell you about that? It is running cold water constantly and the fix? Well, for this particular appliance it is pretty quick. You pick it up a bit, perch it on a sideways piece of 2×4, unscrew the trap in the bottom, empty it, put it all back together again, and set it back on the floor. Except, for one itty bitty thing. Mum’s washer is part of a stacked duo. (Somewhat like ‘Threes Company’, except not as enjoyable and with more Jack.) Meanwhile, I just turn off the cold water during the last spin. So far, it has worked.

And I just remembered, I forgot to finish mum’s laundry.

Ungrateful

The super sarcastic post I  wrote, I deleted. I really am annoyed and tired and am hurting in various neuropathy spots (plus other assorted areas) and feeling unworthy and fat and alone and unwanted. (which reminds me of the ‘cake’ scene from ‘Groundhogs Day‘. Thank you Youtube!)

In other words, I’m incredibly ungrateful at the moment. It isn’t necessary to grate my feelings with sarcasm and spatter all my followers with the goo of hurtful words. (No matter how well written they might be.) On the other hand, I am clean. I did manage to finally get a shower. (Tuesday was a ‘pull back the hair into a high pony and call it good’ sort of day).

That was written last night. I did finally get rest. At least, I think I did. I woke at 5 and checked my glucose, it was 106, so I went back to sleep. I checked again when I woke at 10, it was 240ish. (I had a sip of water at 5Am with my thyroid tablet.) Being a person with Diabetes is sometimes rather frustrating. I’m now doing the wash (a rather nervous endeavor). Mum wanted me to wash a bunch of her stuff and I realized I needed to do mine, so I figured I should cross my fingers and beg for the best. (Drain watching, similar to staring at a mouse hole, only with more dubious results.)

Tuesday was another Monday. The part to mum’s oven came and the person who was going to help me install it can’t til the weekend, so I’ll be looking for hex heads in the shop later today. I got mum to her blood draw 3 hours early and confused that appointment with her hair one. She got it all done and I was incredibly fortunate people adore mom so much and fit her in so quickly. The hair appointment was just long enough for me to walk to the library and get a book I’d been waiting for. (I reserved it when I first got my Alaskan library card and the book came from OK. It is an out of print Alaskan adventure romance. Our library has books one and three.) Mum wanted to eat lunch out, totally surprised me since she usually wants to get home as soon as possible (she’s not been feeling very good the last week, but of course, ‘she’s fine’). The place we ate was as expensive for lunch as their evening meals and the dessert mum wanted (it is very yummy and one of my favorites—) and we brought home made her glucose take off. (I took extra insulin. Mum didn’t have her pump and so couldn’t program it accordingly. Taking an extra bit of Humalog isn’t as easy as using her pump). When we got home, I started writing up Christmas notes and showed mum a card I was mailing out. I had put a photo of her on it and she was wishing she had made some up, too.  Mum was super surprised I could do it from the computer and that it was ready in minutes. (She has not turned on her laptop for almost a year, much less looked at the photos she’s taken or gone online. I still need to be careful with my online experiences, if she DOES go online, she won’t remember she can’t be there checking emails and surfing all day.) Anyway, she came to me this morning and asked if I’d make up 25 for her. (Now, I somehow need to figure out which single photo layout she prefers out of the hundreds available. Without spending a ton of time online!)

I managed to forget to address one of the cards I was going to send (thankfully, I had only written a few and knew who it was for!).  Mum’s waste bag blew last night. This morning one of her doctors called to remind us of her appointment on Thursday and I had no idea who the doctor was. (it was one I had known about, I was just confused.) I deleted a petty rant about something I’d asked The Craftsman to do and he didn’t. He’s really busy with so many things in his mom’s house and ours. (I really should have asked the kid to do what I needed, he has way more time.)

Yup, I’m still being ungrateful and there are so many good things in my world. Like being well enough to move snow from the path of the guy in the small car who delivers mum’s newspaper (hoping he’ll put it IN the box next time), or the invention of Kit Kats (I need to not get any more of those….til Friday), and getting a hug while dropping off garbage (not TrashMan, I exchanged pleasantries with a friend who cut up a tree and trimmed some brush for me a while back).

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Where is the paper today???? 

Nostalgic Cat Nips

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When they were both pretty small! (2004 Christmas card)

Our Kitten (written in 5th grade by Little Bear)

Our Kitten is annoying,

He wakes me up in bed,

He begs for food in the kitchen,

And falls asleep on my head.

 

Our kitten’s name is Moses,

It’s from “Singing in the Rain”,

He attacks the other cats,

He really is a pain.

 

Our kitten is a monster 

With 24 sharp claws,

He likes to massage the family

With his extra large, big paws.

 

Our kitten’s quite a problem,

When writing this here poem,

He walks along the paper,

He’s the pester of our home.

 

Our kitten’s very playful,

He makes toys of everything,

Like stuffed mice and paper balls,

But his favorite toy is string.

 

You really might be thinking

That our kitten’s not much fun,

Yet deep down in his heart,

He’s sweet and rather handsome.