What are we doing?

I have tried to distance myself from news of the Oil disaster for fear of becoming utterly despondent (or militant!). I wonder how one can try to scrape together feelings of hope when hearing news from the 'front lines' about the latest failure in dealing with this environmental disaster. It's not just a 'tragedy'; it's not just an 'accident' it's a pre-apocalyptic natural disaster and it appears we are frightfully impotent to handle it.

Just when it started to seem microscopically possible that in a few years time we might yet be able to pull out of the economic mess; any sparks of that renewed spirit are being suffocated to death just like the birds and sea creatures on the gulf coast. It is horrible sitting here with the feeling of utter helplessness at not being able to do anything to help solve this problem.

But enough of my rant; for real facts and information; please visit Sharon Steitler's site. That 'Birdchick' has got it goin' on as evidenced in her last paragraph copied here with her gracious permission:

I recall with the passing of the health care bill that Vice President Biden remarked it was a big “effing” deal. If I would like to see any profanity from the higher office, it would be now. Enough of everyone giving carefully worded and not so carefully worded statements of dismay and apologies without taking responsibility. I want President Obama to channel some Samuel L. Jackson in Snakes on a Plane in dealing with BP. I want an immediately assembled “think tank” of the world’s underwater engineering experts, wildlife experts, middle school and high school science fair winners and the entire staff of MythBusters to pitch ideas on how to stop the leak.
Sharon Steitler aka Birdchick

Sunday Sun

That woman I live with used to buy all manner of yarns and sell the 'scarves' to other naked necked beings.   She kept my toy box boxes full with all the leftovers rolled into little balls. Occaisionally I had to endure her complaining when she would need to regularly fish them out from under the couch for me she apparently decided enough was enough.  She said she should use all those leftovers cos she paid a small fortune for all that fancy yarn.  So she got the long sharp sticks out again and took all the little balls & tied them all end to end.  You can bet I was immensley helpful in that task and of course my efforts were completely unappreciated!  She made a 'shawl' which she said was just a bigger neck wrapping.   . Well, I'm not one to brag; but you can see that I guard it well considering it's so valuable.  If you come to our house don't let her tell you it's my woobie.  That is simply ridiculous!  I don't even know what one is but it sounds far too kittenish for the drama queen stealthy guardian/huntress I am! 

The Creamy Center

If That Woman thinks she can get away with posting pictures of me like this, she's got Another Thing Coming! I mean really! I am a wild animal, I eat mice, I kill rats, I catch lizards, I'd catch birdzez too if she'd let me OUT! Wuss Puss' need not apply! I have a reputation to uphold! Do not ever think you would be allowed to actually touch that creamy center! Oh this is just too much; She's gone too far this time. I'll show Her~as soon as I'm done typing on this clacky thing...

wha?

what the PAW???


a plastic coating???


NOoooooo!!! FOileD aGaiN!!! EviL WitCh! oh this just hisses me off! She's so lucky I don't sleep in her room.

SSSSSsssssssspit!

I'm a Thief, I admit it!

I just swiped this off another persons blog; BUT; she didn't write it either so just as she did, I'm properly citing the author. And when I can; I'm going to get his book. Thank You Grace!

Curmudgeon - Me

(Quote from Jon Winokur, Author of "The Portable Curmudgeon")

A curmudgeon's reputation for malevolence is undeserved. They're neither warped nor evil at heart. They don't hate mankind, just mankind's absurdities. They're just as sensitive and soft-hearted as the next guy, but they hide their vulnerability beneath a crust of misanthropy. They ease the pain by turning hurt into humor. They attack maudlinism because it devalues genuine sentiment. Nature, having failed to equip them with a serviceable denial mechanism, has endowed them with astute perception and sly wit.

Curmudgeons are mockers and debunkers whose bitterness is a symptom rather than a disease. They can't compromise their standards and can't manage the suspension of disbelief necessary for feigned cheerfulness. Their awareness is a curse.
Perhaps curmudgeons have gotten a bad rap in the same way that the messenger is blamed for the message: They have the temerity to comment on the human condition without apology. They not only refuse to applaud mediocrity, they howl it down with morose glee. Their versions of the truth unsettle us, and we hold it against them, even though they soften it with humor.

Pass the Ben & Jerry's (Cherry Garcia)

I don't know why... (most likely as Terry Pratchett says you can't map laughter)

But this single LOLcat made El laugh so hard that it not only brought tears to her eyes but then her laughing made me laugh 'till I cried and it's become a standing joke at our house ever since.

*sigh* but I digress.

I hate those times when you feel as though you are slogging uphill through an avalanche while wearing cement shoes.

I knew yesterday I had an important deadline for a quilt entry I was really looking forward to. So after arriving home; eating dinner, I went online, opened my projects and the online entry form from the site to get it done. I started to complete the forms when all of the sudden I realize the only key that is responding is the 'L' key and when I strike it, it's typing 'lo'. Even after attempting my normal work around for this problem (which basically involves striking it harder and faster) the only response I got was lololololo. Which only reminded me of Lilo & Stitch when Nane calls Lilo a 'Lolo' head for being silly which I find completely appropriate for my reaction.

I come to be aware that every time I strike the l key, my fingertip feels funny too. Upon inspection, I see that is because it's wet. "*F***!*" "Every cat in my house better be finding some place to hide really fast right now!!!" I scream. I've completely HAD it with this! This keyboard is toast! And this keyboard isn't even mine! It's the one I had to borrow from work as they all ready ruined mine a three weeks ago by this same means of sabotage! "*F***!*" OH, and just so you might know, I've had to resurrect the CRT monitor we had out in the garage. After an apparent re'tail'iation last week when I had foiled their assault on the new keyboard with a plastic bag; they peed directly onto my flat panel monitor & shorted it out, completely ruining it! This is not something I can afford to replace; so I'm left with this CRT which was originally banished for jumpy picture & inadvertently shutting off if it feels like it.

I have told my cats that Little Saigon is not far away & there are a couple of them I could sell BY THE POUND & could easily get enough to replace the monitor and BOTH keyboards!!! Note the stress level here kicking up a few notches? Ya... I'm NOT HAPPY! **deep breath**

So, I go in and ask El, 'Wanna drive me to wallymart so I can get a cheapo keyboard?" She nods, and off we go. I couldn't believe they actually have keyboards that are $11.00. Some how only having to spend $11.00 of our grocery money isn't so bad. So we get home and I plug the keyboard in to finish my applications that were all ready in progress, and my computer says it must 'install the new hardware'. It's a feckin keyboard... what's to install? I don't know, but it took over half an hour to do it! I was seething but onward!

I finally got the application parts completed & two sets of photos uploaded; I uploaded the last set & clicked submit and do you know what happened? Nothing. Nada. It went back to the main screen page for the entry where all I got was a little green line that said 'Sorry, that action is not allowed'. Apparently, during the course of my tribulations, they stopped receiving entries.

About that time; my daughter came running out from her room into the kitchen. She knows I will occasionally swear. But she was hearing words and phrases she'd never heard from me nor, she told me later ever even had heard at her school. Strangely I was perversely proud of that. But I was crying by then too and it wasn't just the stupid website, the stupid computer, the stupid cats, the stupid economy, it was just the last, stupid, straw... Later that night in my private journal I used an entire page in caps wondering how often and how many conjugations I could use the 'F' word. And you know what? There's LOTS! I felt a bit better, slept a bit longer and woke to a brand new day.

And next time; I won't wait till the 'last day' to enter no matter what they tell me.

Live Hawk Nest Cam!

Hey all you hep cats & kittens! Wanna watch some REAL bird TV??? Check it out!

The Franklin Institute Hawk Nest

Upstanding Kittizen...

This is what my cats must have looked like today as the fledglings left their nest.

Empty Nest

Before you go thinking I've pawned off my teenager; rest assured she's still here.

I am referring to the Bushtit nestlings. It hardly seems like a last weekend they were a loud & happy bunch as each parent would flit back and forth to and from the nest with beaks full of spiders, flies and tiny gnats to feed their nestlings. I only went out for an hour or two this morning and when I sat in front of the slider around 2pm; no longer did I hear them; I waited & read (Crow Planet) and realized after a hour or so; they must be fledged. *sniff* I missed it. I so had wanted to see those tiny feathered miracles leave the nest. I had rather hoped it would take a few days, you know... Try and fly, end up tail over beak on some nearby twig... but alas, it wasn't meant to be.

This Bushtit’s nest is a 9 inch long pendulous sack, made of spider webs and fuzz, grass, string and lichen. The nest is so snug, the adults need only spend 40% of daylight hours incubating the eggs. To learn more about the Bushtit, please visit BirdWeb.org. You can see the tiny dark whole that is the door. Over the last couple days when a parent would fly into the nest; you could see the sides get all wobbly & sticky outy where there was obviously a commotion going on of tiny gaping beaks and loud peeps! My camera phone's microphone was too lousy to capture it. But you could hear them from across the yard!


I wouldn't have ventured this close when the nestlings were still inside for fear of stressing the parents.

Nesting

There is some evidence of communal nesting by Bushtits, but it is limited to southeastern Arizona. Helpers at the nest are usually adult males. During nesting season, flocks break up, and pairs establish loose territories, although they appear to tolerate other Bushtits within their territories. Both members of the pair help build the nest. The nest is an impressive, woven, hanging basket with a hole high up on the side of the nest and a passageway to the nest chamber at the bottom. It can be up to a foot long, and is generally built of spider webs, moss, lichen, and other plant material. Inside, the nest is lined with plant down, fur, and feathers. If the pair is disturbed during the early stages of nest-building, they will abandon the nest and find a new location, sometimes finding a new mate as well. Both parents incubate the 4-10 eggs for 12-13 days, sometimes at the same time. Both brood the young and bring them food until shortly after they leave the nest at about 18 days. They generally raise two broods a year.

And from this cool blog: Bestiarum I got this darling shot of what a fledgling looks like

Note the diminutive size! Is that a daily 'squee' or what?

Well, all we can hope is that the pair return for possibly one more brood before nesting season is over in July. But I was truly inspired to be host to such a wonderful natural event.

For the Love of Ginger

My first two cats; Ginger & Taffy. I was 19 or 20. On my own in my first apartment in Arizona. I went to a woman's house who had put the add in the paper 'Free Morris cats'. (LOL Back when cat lovers knew who Morris was). When I arrived I was directed to the barn. The kitten I first picked had run out to me from under a tractor. She became 'Taffy' (she is the cat on the right in the grouped photos) and the one just above by herself. She was SO Orange and SO white. She is also pictured on my antique sewing machine below in the window light.

Then; as I didn't want to have one kitten who would be alone while I worked all day; I needed one more. This proved daunting considering the only other kitten available was hiding; way under the tractor; with the black widow spiders. (now y'all know I like those spiders but I don't want to be bitten thank-you-very-much! and technically they'd be well within their rights considering I was intruding on their home turf!) Anyhow...



The woman grabbed a broom & 'shooed' the poor wretched mewling thing out from under the tractor & before she could scramble back. One of the woman's kids grabbed her first by her tail and then by the scruff of her neck & thrust her at me. She was hissing; trembly and growly and she appeared to be covered in grease! It was love at first sight (for my part).

I took both cats and put them in my car. This was before I knew there was such a thing as a cat carrier. I had a VW van (my first car too) and it had a bed in the back with a giant quilt on it; they both burrowed under the quilt and stayed there till we got back to my tiny apartment where I had to fish them out amid screams (mine) & claws (theirs).

That marked the start of a relationship that lasted over the next 20 years. Almost instantly after getting them inside and finding my bed (which was a mattress on the floor) we all lived quite wonderfully from that night on. Both curled up as you see them from then on; usually against me somewhere.

So many memories of my beloved Gin. When I got her home that day I washed her so much her poor fur was almost coming off till I realized she wasn't supposed to be the same color as her sister! Taffy was the wayward wanderer; fearless; hang from the drapery rods kind of cat. Gin; on me; on my lap; in my hair at bedtime for the next 17 + years.


My beloved Ginger Girls. I miss them e.v.e.r.y. d.a.y. And I can't wait to see them again.

A note from Ms. Stella O'Houligan

This woman I live with is such computer hog. I must post this for all you sexie boy & girlie hep cats whose sites I visit and leave comments on. THIS is what I look like.


Here's what I look like when SHE thinks I should 'come in' when I've obviously just successfully managed to escape! YA RIGHT!


Here I am waiting for poor Ms. Scrappie to wander by so I can be hissy at her & show her my BIG tail & my TEEFS! Ya, she better RUN!

That's all for now; the sunlight just found me; finally some warmz...ZZZZZzzzzzzzzz

SAQA 1 Foot Square Donation for Auction

Celtic Pear for Peace

I am really in love with that color mustard! I drew the pear shape and then painted it in fabric medium and let it dry. Then on a sheet of paper I played with the calligraphy placing the words in the pear shape trying to get the dimensions right for the shapeliness of the pear. I then inked the design onto the fabric with my calligraphic pens. I used liquitex calligraphy inks.



The main word Siochian (can't put the fada's in this script) is Peace in Irish Gaelic. There is also Gra = Love; Neart = strength and Onoir = Honor. I then took my artist quill did the relief curlicues and tiny flowers and leaves. After that, it was off to the machine!



Machine quilted from the back in bright orange from a piece of tapestry fabric (I didn't get that photo yet) and then from from the front for all the other quilting of circles, lines, etc. I hope they can use it in auction!

no; I won't bore you with up-to-the-minute photos of this plant. Just took one that I really liked.

A Tale of Two (pair of) Shoes and a Prince

Once upon a time, there was a single young, beautiful, vibrant middle aged mother who lived with her teenage daughter & four superior beings cats. She worked very hard at her day job, her art and keeping their home neat and tidy. She had been struggling for many months with ongoing health issues and some days it was simply all she could do to make it home; get the dinner done; take a warm shower and curl up with a good book to relax. Sadly, that type of relaxation is not condusive to maintaining any sort of waistline unless you consider resembeling the Pilates ball an acceptable shape.

Oh, She tried to be kind to her big fat toucas her middle aged body by following yogi but was disillusioned to find out that instead of follwing a stretching program; she was mistakenly following the ramblings of a friendlier than average bear who was enamoured with picnic baskets.

She finally decided to make a concerted effort to clean up her act and clear off her treadmill and start using it again (as something other than a place to rest her feet while doing hand sewing work at the card table).

She remembered why she placed it in front of her windows to the backyard. She remembered planting things specifically with her viewing pleasure in mind from the height of the running pad. Watching the birds backlit from the sun with their wings laced with gold flitting to and from the loquat tree and bird feeder was something she could watch for hours with a smile on her face. And this year; a pair of bush tits had decided to think so much of her unwillingness to rip out a wandering vine beautiful landscaping they have made a lovely hanging nest in it.


These tiny imps of birds only measure 3 to 4 inches from the tip of their 1/4 inch beak to the end of their tiny tails. The are darling & travel the neighborhood in small groups leap frogging from plant to plant; tree to tree; to glean tiny insects and building materials. They are not quiet and their chirps sound more like tiny ray gun bursts and with each chirp the tail and wings snap. How adorable is this tiny ball of fluff? She has been head over heels in love for many weeks now.

Photo courtesy of Carl Schmidt

With the advent of Spring; it seemed to her the right time to get started on improving her overall health now that her chemical levels were, well, level. With renewed determination she vowed to start at the beginning doing what she really liked, just walking on her treadmill and losing herself in the meanderings of her mind while watching the bird tv in her yard. She told herself that she need only walk for 15 to 20 minutes per day to start but as she always knew; this reeled into at least an hour she found such enjoyment in it. "The trick" she told herself "is getting on to just do the 20 minutes first."

After a week or so of being on target and walking 3 miles each day; her legs were starting to give her some pings. Not because they were sore from lack of excersize (though there certainly was some of that) but as she thought; she probably needed new shoes. She'd been wearing the same pair for so long she'd lost track of how long she'd actually had them. They were pretty sad indeed.



It had been at least 4 years since she last was devout in her daily treadmill worship. But alas; our heroine (like so many others in the kingdom) were seriously suffering economic hardship and new shoes were not on any horizon. Then she remembered something: a Prince, who lived in a far off and dusty hot land was himself a fellow runner had mentioned one time to her that he and his friends donate their old shoes; owing to the fact that as many runners know; you only get about 3 months of serious running out of a new pair if you are running daily. So she had an idea and texted him about where this place might be that she could go and see if they might have a pair with some use left in them (until she herself got back up to speed) and she wouldn't have to ransom her firstborn. The Prince wrote back right away that the shoes were donated but as far as he knew they all went over seas. But he had 'contacts' and he would 'see what he could do'. He enquired as to what size she wore; width & so on. Later that evening she got a text saying that her shoes would be delivered in 2 to 9 days.

You can imagine her surprise when she wrote back how astonished she was that he could locate a used pair of shoes in her size & width on such short notice but he simply said he had gone online and bought her a brand new pair!

Even greater still her amazement when they arrived by post and she put them on the first time. Ahhhh, pure bliss.



It's amazing what a new pair of shoes can do for you, even more amazing when they are athletic shoes. But nothing is so amazing as having a friend who appears so ordinary, so everyday but in reality is a everything a Prince should be. Thank you, Thank you, Thank you Rich Owings for being that Prince!

Finally!

After 15 years of being in this house & trying at one time or another to grow these in my front planter (and failing miserably each time) the official 'bleeding heart fairies' have finally decided to grace me with their presence. I have no way of telling which of the myriad old leftover roots these are from but I am heartily glad to to see them!

I am surreptitiously watering them (this must be done without looking directly at them) and furtively slinging plant food (also without direct eye contact) as I wouldn't want them to think any of my efforts were on their behalf (as that would ensure their subsequent immediate death) so we'll see how big they get. It's an exciting time. All for one ennsey-weensey fragile plant that has always captured my heart; broken, bleeding or not.

Livin' the Life!

I come home from a hard day's work, need to run get out of my work clothes and into my workout clothes and on the way to the treadmill, THIS is what I see... *sigh* So hard not to just lay out right there with all those snugglyon particle emitters! Especially that pied in front who has her emitter on 'if you can make it past me you have a will of iron'...


Yes I made it past;, but only just. If it weren't for the fact that my er...backyard area has grown roughly to the size of Rhode Island, I would stop and lounge but alas, cellulite expulsion waits for no one.

A Victim was claimed later by a rain of particles that was emitted at such concentrated force the poor girl didn't stand a chance!

Happy Easter

Wordless Wednesday

On The Rebound

I need to share information that I have come by in a most alarming & very personal way.

Heart Attack Symptoms in Women and Rebound Migraines

Until Yesterday, I had never heard of any such thing. Let me back up to last Wednesday so it'll make more sense.

Wednesday evening, I'm standing in my kitchen making tea; as I wait for the microwave to go off; suddenly I break out in a cold sweat; feel my chest tighten and I can't breathe. In just a few seconds, I am left on my knees on the kitchen floor trying to catch my breath. A normal person would have probably immediately sought help. Not me, I stood up; took some slow deep breaths and tried to calm myself down. I think I'm just stressed out from work so the next day (Thursday)I ask for and am given the following week off.

Friday at work after I eat my lunch sandwich; I start to feel as if I had eaten an entire turkey dinner with all the trimmings & had gone back for seconds. I can't breathe. I am still worried about this symptom but again just attribute it to stress and calm myself with the knowledge that I have a whole week off coming to sleep in and relax. Friday night to work off some of my stress I walk on my treadmill for an hour. It seemed to help. I could breathe deeply without any pain or tightness in my chest.

Saturday morning; my daughter leaves for her birthday weekend with her dad to the desert to go dirt bike & atv riding. By that evening, I've cleaned my entire house, vacuumed, dusted; cleaned my bedroom; done all my laundry, cleaned the kitchen. I realize I've done all this because I'm really secretly afraid that if something happens & the paramedics have to come I want my house clean at least. How sick is that?

That evening I'm online reading about menopause & symptoms & start reading how even a woman at 47 with no other indicators other than high cholesterol can still have heart attacks and the symptoms for women are different than in men. Many of them are not what I would consider even worth bothering over if you took them one at a time. Until I started reading them & realized that in the last couple days I was in fact having many of them. But I persisted in telling myself I was fine. I would just keep my cell in my pocket just in case. I didn't want to tell my daughter even as she was enjoying her birthday in the desert & I didn't want to worry anyone.

On Sunday after she came home I let her know I hadn't been feeling well and I needed her not to play her music loud in her room in case I needed to call her. Then after we ate dinner; while sitting in my rocking chair; I had the same episode that I had had in the kitchen. Now I was really starting to worry. But it was late; I didn't want to drag either of us to the ER for what would end up being several hours of waiting & multiple tests, etc. only to be told I would have to see my Dr. for further tests & evaluation on Monday. I was mad too because this was MY VACATION & I was adamant that I wasn't going to spend it working myself up in a panic over what was probably nothing. I know how this sounds & if you are thinking 'denial' you would be absolutely correct. I was terrified inside but all the information I read about heart attacks was that you didn't keep feeling pain as a constant over days so in that I took what solace I could but first thing Monday morning, I went to see my Dr.

Before I could even blink they were taking my blood pressure & it was sky high! They ushered me to a room & hooked me right up to the EKG machine, they called and scheduled the appointment for the cardiologist where I was to go the minute I left their office, and they recommended a CT scan & neurologist consult for my migraines.

Then my Dr. & I started talking about my headaches (because I had one right then too). I told her I was getting them more frequently lately, it seemed that we had our big rains & for a week I was taking a pill (100mg imitrex) per day, sometimes I'd take two a day. Then after 4 months of no menses cycle, I have one and that triggered a doosey of a migraine just last week, so I was back taking a least a pill a day. She asked me about the timing, we looked at a calendar together, in the 3 weeks prior to my visit that day I had taken over 1800.00mg of imitrex. She went to consult another Dr. in the office & came back 100% certain that I had in fact been having 'rebound' migraines from the meds themselves. AND, the side effects from that much sumatriptan in your system is guess what? yup, same as a heart attack & in some cases can even CAUSE you to have a heart attack. So now they were worried that I may have had one and the cardiologist was waiting for me to arrive for the stress test that would tell them if there was any damage to my heart. Needless to say, after arriving at his office my blood pressure was through the roof still because first I got lost finding his office and now I'm having to fill out forms that say things like, 'In the event of an emergency who do we contact for....' So I'm in his office filling out 19 forms & trembling with fear and I am alone. That morning I had told my daughter I was just going to the Dr.'s to get 'checked out' to make sure I'm fine. All the sudden it's SO SERIOUS and I'm thinking to myself this can't be happening. I mean sure, I'm fat & don't exercise like I should but I'm not obese, I don't have high blood pressure, no one in my immediate family has heart disease.

So I do my test and I will tell you that watching the ultrasound of my heart working and watching the red blood flow & then the blue blood was the cooooolest thing to see! I was then instructed to take all the stickie things off, get dressed & meet the Dr. back in his office. Turns out my heart is perfectly fine. There were no signs of damage from the medication and other than a gentle reminder that I need to get my cholesterol under control with medication & diet, he doesn't want to see me again until next year. *Why is it at this time I had the inner urge to say something like, "Look, I know I'm like 20 lbs up but dang! for like 5 years before this I was a size six & walked 3miles everyday, doesn't that count for something???"* sad isn't it?

What my Dr. explained to me about the migraine meds is this... When you feel a migraine coming on, take one pill; if your migraine persists, you may take one more. After that your migraine should be gone. If not, DO NOT continue to take more meds. At that point that medication isn't working for you & you need to try a different one. It doesn't tell you any of that on the insert or on the box! She said migraine medication should only be used once or possibly twice PER MONTH. That would have been 200mg in my case. But I was floating 1800.00mg in just a couple weeks!

The ironic part of all this is that while I'm waiting for my body to detox itself, I still am having low grade migraines (caused by the medication in my system) and because she doesn't want me taking any more migraine meds just yet, I have a script for Vicodin. And I don't just have one or two pills, the script was for 45! I'm trusting that I won't need anymore after today. I've been sleeping in, taking naps, taking it easy since yesterday's chaos and feel a bit better. So know I know, and I want you to know too. Be careful. We all matter!

Time

Time not only flies; it hops the Concord & take off to the Outer Limits!

My daughter is seventeen today.

I can't hardly articulate how I feel about this. I remember being seventeen like it was only last week (unless I try to stay kneeling down for a bit). I have fond memories of living in the only house we ever had (we only had it for the 4 years I was in High School)and having a "Princess House" party when all they sold was crystal. Later, I remember being invited to a "Queens Way" party & buying my first negligee (it was dark burgundy & by today's standard would be considered a ultra-conservative prom dress!)

This morning, while cleaning I found a photo album under my bed from 1990. My beloved grandpa Hurt was alive, my dad was alive; my cousin Mary Ellen was alive. My fiancee hadn't been hit on his motorcycle & left in a coma for 6 months only to awaken & be left with no memory of our time or promises to each other. I was all of 26, smooth skinned. My hair was a little over an inch long and not dyed, white or flat ironed. I didn't own a sewing machine. I had an apartment, two cats & lived alone. I didn't watch TV even then; I learned calligraphy, silk flower arranging and listened to 'the wave' on the stereo. I kept a 30 gal. freshwater fish tank my Grandfather gave me.

I've worked at my day job with the same company for just over 22 years. Ellen & I have been in this house for the last 15 of those.

I am most grateful that Ellen has never had to move once (in her childhood) let alone several times a year. She's never had to get all new friends; always be the 'new kid' at yet another school or fall sleep in a back booth at one of the nightclubs where her mother worked. True, she never got to dress up for special gigs but neither did she have to teach herself to overcome her fear and politely say 'no thank you' to men twice her age when they asked her to slow dance. She never had to wonder why their embraces were so tight or to try and smile anyway so her mother would think she was having a good time. She never had to wash the car the next morning cleaning all the 'sick' off the drivers side door because her mother was so drunk but kept driving anyway. I am thankful she doesn't know what it's like to be 11 and have the police show up at your door wanting to know where your parents are. Or the combination of excitement and shame you feel when you are told your grandparents will be driving all the way from L.A. to pick you up and you must go home with them. Or what it's like to run from your apartment screaming in panic for help from anybody when the grease in the pan you were trying to make popcorn in catches fire. I value the childhood I had, even if it only let me shape my future by contrast.

I am a Parent. It is my job To Be There. I am so glad I Showed Up!

It's so interesting that the best part of my life started in 1993 when Ellen was placed in my arms. I am reminded how sparkly and full of glitter glue those first years were! Celebrating all the holidays with a vengeance! Swimming lessons, Soccer, Gymnastics. Girl Scouts. I am grateful for the innocence my daughter has (which is not the same as naivete); for the stability I have been able to provide and I am unendingly blissed out that I still get to be here & watch her every day and see who she is becoming & how her life is turning out. As we used to say 'What a rush!'

I've always told her, it's been my Honor and Privilege to be her mom.

You Rock!

We got this award from 'The Furry Kids'

And the picture was sooooo cool we are sending it out all our cat lovin buddies!

Disco No Furno & Mommy Coco & all those adorable babies!!!

Isabella & Angel (& Sadie too!)

NoFurato Diary of a Naked Cat. (Who is currently the Winner of the Sleep Warrior award!

We Three Ginger Cats!

Marie @ ZQuilts!

And last but not least; our lovely Mancats Raymond & Busby ; when last we spotted the intrepid Raymond he was mouchin' off with Busby's felted; nipped mousie! The Drama has yet to unfold!