Akannie’s Weblog

A grey and over cast morning here on the Prairie, around 7 Am. I am up early as it’s to be a full day of AA and I had a few things to do before the breakfast potluck. It starts at 9, and since it’s my homegroup I get to help put things together and set stuff up.  At 8 Am I am picking up M* from the nursing home to take her along as well.  Afterwards there will be a tandem husband/wife speaker meeting, both AA.  They’re young and expecting their first child, so I’m sure it will be grand. Both have great senses of humor too!

  I wanted to get in here and be counted (lol) since it’s going to be a dinger of a day, and I may not be able to get back on the computer after this morning.  At 5 there is a birthday meeting for a dear friend of mine, celebrating 19 years. And then at 7 another potluck/speaker meeting. It’s really too much in one day, but…as I am the speaker, I’ve lost the choice, lol.  When I was approached, I didn’t look at my planner and the egomaniac in me just gushed and said “Love to!”  Oops.  It’s this ego that gets me every time.  Early on, I was told some nonsense about never saying NO to an AA request. Of course, that’s just newcomer bullshit, to help them get past the fear of ever interacting with others, and we carry it with us til the day we die sober or leave Alcoholics Anonymous in search of the one drink that will actually work. lol  Like many of the goofy things we spout in AA, it came from nowhere and was made gospel.   So much of the stuff that people think is hardline AA program came from treatment centers trying to control their inmates, and everyone thinks it’s the Word of Bill Wilson or something.

  But I digress….

  I’m not going to make my 700+ words this morning most likely, as I am just starting my first cup of Starbucks fresh ground Sumatran coffee, and I am barely able to put my shoes on. PLUS, I have to fix my thermos still, so that I don’t have to drink that swill at the meeting.   (Years ago, I attended a women’s meeting wjhere they only served good coffee, and rich pastries…it was heaven).

   I have to get some things together to pack along…I cooked up about 2.5 pounds of bacon and baked croissants yesterday to take for the potluck. They’re all ready to go, except I have to get the serving plates and bag it all.  So, until later, I remain….a humble servant….

HO.

One of the downsides of being retired is that I no longer shout T.G.I.F !!!!!!!!!!  I always got such a thrill from that. Now it doesn’t matter.  The upside, of course, is that –IF I CHOOSE- every day is Friday.  And so the celebration continues…hahahahahahahaha

 Okay.  So [seriously]  It’s Friday. And I have a myriad of small jobs to complete today. One is that I have to make croissants for the breakfast speaker meeting tomorrow. And something. Haven’t decided what–oh, crap….I am supposed to cook bacon too and I forgot to buy it. Sh-t.  Oh well. I can do that at a moments notice, really.  Oops.  One of the problems with this “some-timers” disease. Even when I write things down, it doesn’t help if I don’t look at the paper… Then I have a little more minor housekeeping to do.  P- is working today and I didn’t get up to keep the car.  NO reason to, really. I want to go to my friend Mary’s homegroup tonight and be a stand in in case the speaker they have asked doesn’t show. It’s a birthday celebration. I’ve been asked to do this kind of thing before, and it’s no problem for me to speak off the cuff (as they say). So I’ll go, and it will be fun.  I adore this woman.

 The little Caylee is integrating into this house of animals rather well. She roughhouses and plays with Lucy the minute Lucy steps in the door.  She is learning to respect the cats, slowly but surely.  They have a big hand in that, of course, and will not tolerate any folderol from her whatsoever. Because they don’t have to, that’s why. lol  She is learning to judge the jack russell’s moods, which are as varied as the rainbow.  Sometimes she can play with her, sometmes not. All in all, she is working her way into our family. She actually went outside yesterday with the big dogs and ran around the yard a little.  I had to chase her down to bring her back in when the storms started. Naturally, I kept her within my sights the whole time. She floundered through the grass (which isn’t high, but the texture of the ground seemed new and strange to her, lol)  and rolled down a little hillside and seemed to be having the time of her life.

  I’m having a bowl of oatmeal for my breakfast…one of my favorite things. Just plain today…no blueberries, no cinnamon…just a little butter and sugar and milk. The critters that happen to be inside right now circle around me, at my feet….I feel like the Prom Queen must feel.  lol  Years and years ago, when I first moved to California, I worked in a little coffee shop that had a big horseshoe shaped counter. When I stood inside it, pouring coffee for truck drivers and hippies and the guys from PG&E–I had the same feeling. Like they were my royal audience and I was onstage. I never failed to entertain. It’s why I was always so good at my job as waitress. Or boss.  A little humor goes a long way….

  I was just telling someone yesterday, that I can’t believe I miss the restraunt business as much as I do. I haven’t done it for about 13 years now…finally having obtained my freedom. After working as general manager for about 15 years, I was good and burned out from the long hours and the stress and the general BS that goes with the job.   Somebody stick a fork in me, – I was DONE.   But it’s a job I was good at, and I loved that. I started out at the tender age of 14 working in my parent’s little truck stop diner, and did every job in the business before winding up at the top. lol I even owned my own place for a few years, but it’s much better to work for someone else, IMHO.  I did it and am glad for the experience, if only to know that I never want to do it again. The best part about working your way up in the ranks is the understanding you have about things. And I would always say to employees  “I never ask anyone to do anything that I haven’t done myself.”  And it’s true. I was a very hands on kind of boss, always. I come from working class stock, and nothing will ever change that.

  OH lordy. Enough already.  I am off into the day………I am outta here like Vladimir.

HO.

Happy Thursday. And I mean that with all my heart.

 Supposed to be rain on the way this evening. But, that’s what they said last night too, so who knows? I was in bed early, very tired from being up at 4 AM.  Slept in til 7:30.  Had a little “quality time” with himself  (He’s off today) and then up and playing with puppy, who is always so amazed every morning that we have come back into her world.  She wasn’t particularly happy about me running the vacuum earlier, but I think all is forgiven now, as she’s lying here curled up at my feet.  I tried to keep shutting it off and talking to her and petting her, but she still runs and hides every time it’s turned back on. (Of course, so do the other dogs, and they’ve been dealing with it a while!)  It’s the Oreck monster, and can’t be trusted…

 Had a sponsee call at 8AM, so it weas almost like a little mini meeting. She’s one of my favorites-always good to talk to. We have a lot of similar tastes in books and politics and whatnot. She’ll have 2 years in October, and  we have been together since the beginning of her journey through recovery.  Tonight is the women’s meeting, and if she’s up to it, I’m picking up another one who just had laproscopic surgery last week. It amazing what they can do now!! They removed a whole ovary laproscopically! Wowsa.  Had lunch yesterday with another one who has 14 coming up on 15 (I think–or is it 13 coming up on 14??)  –Not to worry, I have it written down somewhere….I have a few sponsees, but many of them are over the 10 year mark, so they’re pretty low maintenance.

  Emotional sobriety. I have been thinking about this a lot lately, about what it means in my life (I’m not much, but I’m all I think about!) and what it means to me. How it affects me and what the alternatives are…much of this is brought on by a friend going through a hard time right now, and behaving in a manner that is so admirable.   I think of the past, and how I have been flying off the handle at the smallest things. How I have wailed and sobbed at the news of not getting what I want.  (Which is usually what it’s all about anyay…an old timer once told me in early sobriety that I only had 1 problem, and it was FEAR. Fear that I wasn’t going to get something I wanted or fear that I was going to lose something I had.  I thought he was full of it at the time. Now I think he’s right, of course, and I have heard the same thing in a dozen meetings in a dozen different states.  When I got here, I would never have thought I was afraid of anything, being a tough broad and all.  As I sobered up, I learned how pervasive fear really was in my life. In every little detail of my life.  The less the booze and drugs obstructed my reality, the more I saw about myself.  It wasn’t pretty.  I was face down in the dirt when I got to Alcoholics Anonymous, and I am so grateful for that today. I watch people come through the doors who just haven’t had enough bad shit happen to them yet, and they decide they can try one more time. I didn’t have one more time left, and somewhere deep in my cells, I knew that. I had played my last card.  Recovery from alcoholism and drug abuse was the last party on the block for me, and if I didn’t get it this time …  I heard a speaker say once “I probably had another good drunk in me…but I was pretty sure I didn’t have another recovery in me.  So I decided to stay…”   And that’s how it was for me. After those first weeks of detoxing from the scotch and the speed and the coke,  I felt like something the dogs dragged in.  I was toxic and I was weak and I was blurry and I was desperate.  Thank the gods.   I am grateful that today, after 18 years of clean and sober, I have no illusions about my recovery. I have no delusion that maybe , someday, I could drink like other people.  And most importantly, I have no desire to go back to that way of life again.

  I have been sober.  I have been drunk.  

   Sober is better.  Oh yeah, much better.

HO.

Have you noticed that baby puppy breath smells like coffee grounds?  For some reason, this never fails to amaze me…maybe because I have had so many puppies, or maybe because I like both puppies and coffee so much.  At any rate this little cooder has been sitting on my lap because she was in the living room by herself, and when she doesn’t want to be all alone she cries this pitiful little whimper and mama (that’s me) runs to rescue her from the depths of loneliness. So, she sat on my lap happily for about 10 minutes, snuggling and nuzzling and chewing on my ears. Now she’s exploring this room, where she doesn’t often come. It’s such fun watching her get more and more sure of herself. She had her clock cleaned last night by one of the cats, though. Guess that’s something she’s still learning.   I think it was Sam, who isn’t all that thrilled with having another dog around, and he popped her on the head. She cried the baby puppy screams until we came out of the bedroom at a dead run and scooped her up and loved her until she stopped.  She didn’t appear to have any bloody gashes or anything…so I’m assuming it was just a friendly “get the hell away from me”  bitch slap.  lol

  Kept the car today because I needed to go to the dreaded Wally World for puppy pads and cat food. I have friends that refuse on moral grounds to shop there. I refuse to give them that much energy. I only go there (as a rule) at 5:30-6 AM or after midnight. Can’t stand the crowds. I also prefer salespeople and cashiers that are winding down their shift, having been awake all night. They are incapable of being too chatty. Generally Walmart employees have nothing to say that I need to hear, except maybe, “Try aisle 398″.  (That sounds a little snotty, but I can’t help it.) In my old age, I won’t much go to concerts anymore either. P- came home blabbering about Springsteen playing in St Louis  and I just looked at him. In 16 years, I have gone to 4 concerts.  That’s about 1 every 4 years, and it’s not time.  lmao   I used to love that kind of stuff…now I can’t stand it.  Sigh….  And here’s who I have seen (that made it worth it)–BB King,  Little River Band, Crosby Stills and Nash, and Rita Coolidge.  SO, until next time, I’ve filled my quota.

  I had a moment this morning, when I heard the Byrds singing Turn,Turn,Turn on the radio,  where I had tears welling up in my eyes. A couple of ex members of that group played and sang that song at Ed’s funeral.  I suddenly felt like time was running out and that there was so much I still neeeded to do and that I am the same age my mother was when she died.  And it took a minute to shake it loose and get a grip and think “what the hell was THAT about??”   And the next thing that came into my head was my mantra…

“Nowhere to go

               “No one to be

              “Nothing to do.

  Living in the present, not in the future. Being where my feet are planted.  Trusting that there is a plan and that I may as well enjoy the ride…no matter how long it lasts, or where it takes me. I’ve pretty much lived my life like that, both before and since recovery. I’m a little more thoughtful about it now, maybe.

  Need to finish mowing the back yard today. It’s still kind of a mess out there, but the gardens are looking all wild and used up and the weeds along the chicken run are getting out of control. I mowed the front and side yards yesterday, and nearly broke my ankle stepping in a hole that the terrorist dug looking for moles.  I can only mow about half of it at a time, and my body hurts so bad I have to wait. But it’s supposed to rain the next couple of days, so I need to get it done. We’ve been having really heavy dews, so it’ll be too wet til afternoon.

   I love lazy August days and corn on the cob and fresh tomatoes.   And puppies, of course.

HO.

Almost 10 AM before I am finally getting down to writing this morning. I didn’t get up until 8,  and did some reading and stuff too, mostly animal caretaking.  It’s about 68 degrees here and not destined to make it to 85…nice weather. I have some laundry to wash and hang out and some other chores to do…mainly vacuuming, which I’ve been avoiding as to not scare the new puppy. But I can’t use that excuse much longer…lol

 I guess I have left my phone in the car last night, as I can’t find it anywhere. The house phone isn’t working right, calls incoming okay, but you can’t dial out. They have come and repaired it so many times I have given up. I could probably move it into the other room and try a different outlet….maybe I should I like having it back here in the back room though, where I can’t hear it most of the time. lol

 I get into these semi-isolation modes where I don’t want any contact with the outside world. There have been times when I’ve shuttered myself away out here on my little piece of heaven perfectly content with almost no human contact. Well, of course, hubby comes home at night, but he’s working 12 hour shifts. So….there’s that, but he’s home long enough to eat and play with the dogs for a minute and then he’s off to bed as he gets up at 4AM.

  I’ve been really, characteristically undisciplined about my housekeeping of late. This place looks like a tornado swept through, and I don’t care. For a minute.  The truth is this: there is so much chaos in my head that I need some order about me, or I feel flung off into the netherworld.  I have used (in the past–certainly not lately, as you would see if you could) some routines that kept my house always 15 minutes from company ready.  Like I often do with things that work for me (antibiotics, programs, etc)  as soon as I feel better, I quit using them.  Heaven only knows why I am still actively involved in AA. lol   I guess I need to look at my house like my drinking….if I am not vigilant it will snowball into something bigger than the universe and take over  and ruin my life [again].  I have so many animals in here that I really need to sweep, mop and vacuum every day.  Of course, I don’t.  (That would be OBSESSIVE, wouldn’t it?) lol  P- likes to tell me that I have a Hoover addiction, but he hasn’t got a clue as to what would happen here if I were to rest on my laurels about all this.  Hairballs the size of Kilimanjaro. The labrador and the cats shed huge clumps of fur. The Jack Russell Terrorist sheds lots of coarse sharp white hairs that stick into everything and you can barely get them up. Can’t tell yet what impact Caylee the new pup will have, after the initial puppy pad and peeing and puking sequence is over. She’s a fluffy long haired looking thing so far, but at only 6 weeks old, that could change. The bird scatters seed and feathers everywhere within a 3 foot radius of the cage, and the ceiling fan helps to distribute that (and the furbunnies) over the rest of the living area.  As you can see already (and this doesn’t count the front door glass, the windows, the island in the kitchen, the washer and dryer tops, the couches and chairs….)  this is a potential full time, neverending, eternal job.  I’m exhausted from just writing it.  Think I’ll have a nap, just as soon as I get the laundry out, the grass mowed and the decks (3) swept.  I need to find a really good whole grain dense bread recipe too, as I’m down to my last 4 slices.

  “From break of day, to setting sun…a woman’s work is never done….”

HO.

 Couldn’t remember what year it was for a minute there.

 I know what’s wrong–besides the fact that I have been up since 4 AM…I stopped on the way home to indulge my secret passion for biscuits and milk gravy. I swear to you, I woke up this morning, dreaming about them and tasting them and wanting them. I rarely eat them…face it, they’re gut bombs.  But my god, they taste so good. I was the only person in the restraunt, and when I said, are you open? she said yeah, but the cook’s not here yet. ALL I HAVE ARE BISCUITS AND GRAVY.  (It was a God thing). lol

  SO I sat down, had an order and they were wonderful, all peppery and NOT greasy, just the way I like them. And the biscuits were very fresh baked and high and soft, just the way they are supposed to be. And all was well with my world.

  Until I got home and baby puppy had taken a giant poop on the floor.  But it was close to the puppy pads, which she does pee on  every time, except the times when her butt’s hanging just over the edge. Even that didn’t diminish the beauty and wonder of the B&G. 

   I was thinking this morning, on the drive home, that there’s nothing like the weather of a crisp Indian October summer.  Even though it’s only August. Weird weather. 58 degrees right now, with a high today in the low 80’s.  Not complaining, as this is ideal weather, and almost unheard of in this part of the midwest.  But all the weather patterns are so bizarre these days. Can you spell g-l-o-b-a-l w-a-r-m-i-n-g ????????????????????????

  Got the chickens fed and watered and cleaned up and the garbage out to the road. The litter boxes are cleaned as well and I need to vacuum, which I have been putting off, because I know it’s gonna scare the bejeezus out of the puppy. But I can’t let it go much longer.  I need to do some massive housecleaning, but don’t much have the energy for it.   Particularly need to declutter this place.  (Yard sale, yard sale!!!)

    Bought some flowers for a sponsee who just had to have an ovary removed. I’m going by today for a visit.  Also picked up a gift card from Wally World for them, not a lot of money, as I don’t have it, but … this is an abundant Universe and I always have something to share.   So, it’ll be enough to buy some groceries.  I may also pack up a care package with some paper towels and a few rolls of toilet tissue in it, and some other odds and ends. They are having a hard time right now. Maybe I can help a little. At least to let someone know that you care, and that can be worth more than the stuff itself.

  I’m grateful to be a member of the 12 step program.  That has given me (over the years) much comfort. Knowing that someone cares about you. Modelling how to eventually be that for someone else.  Learning that you can help any person in small ways sometimes and that’s good enough. I don’t have to change anybody else’s life, I don’t have to  be the big philanthropist. I just have to put out my hand and offer what I have to give.  And when you do that with right intentions, it comes back to you a hundredfold. And it changes everyone involved.  That’s the coolest part.

   Well, I’m already weary of sitting here in this dark computer room.   Time to get out there and get on with the day.  Adventures to unfold,  and joys to be had.  Hope everyone’s day is as good and full of limitless possibilty!

HO.

Evening already.  A full day of AA meetings and celebrations of recovery and being a stand in grandma to a 2 year old. A girl. Adorable…and precocious and ever so sweet.  After a lunch out of pizza and salad (something we don’t eat much because P- has a little lactose intolerance problem) we came home. P- laid down for a nap and I decided to wrestle the water tank into the back of the truck and haul some water.  He worked 60 hours this past week and was so tired, I could see it around his eyes. He rarely complains.  So, I went in search of straw first, and couldn’t find any. One farm we have bought from before was out and sent me to another farm up the road, but nobody was home there.  SO….still no straw. And I’m gonna be in desperate need soon as it’s time to clean the chicken coop again and I am completely out.  I figure if I have to I can haul 1 bale in the backseat of the car, and then vacuum like hell. lol  I have an old blanket in the trunk I can spread over the seat to contain the mess. It’s amazing how inventive you can get when you have to. I could haul a lot in my Grand Caravan.  I miss it.

   Finished a wonderful Anna Quindlen book today Blessings,  a great story. I really do love the way she writes.  I’ve read a good bit of her stuff, when I want a good story, as we all do from time to time. It was written in 2002, but feels old, in that precise and practical way.  I fell in love with the characters, as I am wont to do with her.  I had a thought today that my biggest fear would be to lose my sight and not be able to read.  Bigger than dying or being homeless or bankrupt.  I could read when I went to kindergarten, and have been a voracious reader all my life.  I have stacks and stacks and shelves and shelves of books. Many I have been referred to, many I have found accidently, many I have been requisitioned to read.   Luckily P- reads a lot too, only much more slowly than yours truly.  Every time we move, the first thing we have to do is cull the bookshelves and decide what we can live without. When we moved from Portland, OR to Hendersonville, NC  we got rid of over 20 medium sized boxes of books.  (Sheesh, when I write it out loud, it looks rather obsessive!)  OK. It is obsessive.  I would rather spend money on books than on food sometimes. I am a huge fan of Friends of the Library booksales…they’re like heroin to me.  The town of Flat Rock, NC (Carl Sandburg’s home is there)  had this monstrous sale every year–they bought their own building to have it in. It was rooms and rooms of books. The firsat weekend, books were 50% off the cover price. The second weekend you could buy them by the bag for $5/bag or something wonderful.  One year I started buying Bibles.  Just because they were $5/ bag.  IMagine…SALVATION at bargain basement prices.  I got some really odd and wonderful translations and printings of Bibles.   One year I bought almost the whole series of Jean Auel’s Clan books.  All hardcover, all pristine condition.  My God, I love a good book sale!!!!!  Can’t wait to attend the next one that Hayner has here in Alton. Someone from the Sierra Club was telling me about it. I buy books at the Goodwill, the Savation Army, thrift stores, yard sales, Amazon.com.  Anywhere.

I am a book whore.

Well, you can see why it’s better for me to write in the morning.  I’m getting a little carried away here….

 Enough for now. Here’s to a better tomorrow.  Obama has chosen Joe Biden as his running mate.  Change is coming….

HO.

Another rainy morning.  Only about 73 degrees but it makes for a sultry beginning. Strange weather for us for August…

  I have taken care of the neighbors dogs, who are always so glad to see me.  Swept up a little too, where we have tracked dirt into the laundry food getting dog food and pills.  They will be home tomorrow in the late afternoon sometime.

  I feel stiff today–in my joints, in my writing, in my thoughts. Had an opportunity to go see the opera Carmen tonight, but can’t get to Alton in time for a ride.  Pat is working today.  Having my second cup of Bad Ass Kona coffee that Chris brought me back as a gift from Hawaii, it sure is good. A French Roast–still, it’s not the smooth bold Sumatran….lol    I’m such a stalwart when it comes to my taste for certain things.  What can I say?  I like what I like.

 I yam what I yam.  One of the greatest things about reaching this time of life is the potential to look about you and see the reality of your life.  Of yourself.  I spent a lot of my life in a rose colored fog, knowing what I hoped to be, striving (sometimes) to become that person. Or fantasizing about how I should be. Or thinking –if only this had happened or that had not happened– then things could have been different.  For a long time I was pretty sure that I had been switched at birth with someone else’s baby.  That I never belonged where I was, that something was terribly wrong. I guess lots of  people have that experience.  Even in my own family, I was always on the sidelines it seems like.  But I guess I know now it was always just a wiring problem…like something was not hooked up right in my brain. It helps me understand now, how I could have walked that long lonely road of alcoholism, when I knew better.  I knew what it was like, I knew I never wanted to be like my mother. Never be that mean, never be that cruel. I was a a sensitive, stubborn kid, and she beat me into submission, with her hands, with her mouth, with her rage.  I remember being about 14 and screaming at her that I would never be like her, I would never hurt people and hate so much and scream all the time.  I was just figuring out about that time that there was something going on here that was more than just crazy.

   It’s funny looking back at life and seeing how the paths unfold. The roads taken and not taken.  The choices made. The patterns in a life that mimic the threads that have connected you since birth. The way I did all the same things she did, all the while fighting and swearing I wouldn’t.  Looking around me in terror and wondering how in the hell I wound up here…how did this happen to me?  Why me??  And then in my early recovery someone said something to me that I repeat all the time now, to myself as well as to other people…”When you’re falling out of an airplane at 35,000 feet without a parachute…it doesn’t really matter how you got there.  WHAT ARE YOU GOING TO DO NOW?”   And that, gentle readers, became my philosophy of life.  Tuck and roll.  Roll with whatever life hands you.  Make an effort to create the life and the reality you want. Stop whining and acting like a vicitm. GOYA.  (get off your ass). 

   Here’s what I know.  Recovery is a VERB.  I have to suit up and show up in my life. I have to make choices today based on what I want out of my life.  I have to plant that attitude of gratitude in the garden that is my life and I have to never forget, for one single minute, what I can have again if I am not careful.  I have to live, love, and laugh my way through Paradise.  And trust, that there is another adventure awaiting me….

HO.

Woke up this morning to a soft rain.  Was up too late last night for getting up at 4:30…tired this morning. I’d go back to bed, but I have to go feed the neighbors dogs in a minute.  SO, I’ll plan my day and hang in there. Maybe a nap this afternoon, maybe not.

  The 2 older dogs are finally getting along better with the puppy.  It’s always a matter of time, I guess.  Today is a week we’ve had her, and this morning even the JRT was playing with her.  The lab has been poking at her for a couple of days, and they play-mostly the pup biting her tail and yapping at her and running around and climbing on her. They’re such fun to watch.

  To pick up that thread again about all the animals…when we moved here we had 3 cats and 1 dog. We lost 2 cats immediately after the move, they ran off the minute they got out of the cat carriers. I guess the 10 hour trip from North Carolina pushed them over the edge. We were heartbroken, we’d had the cats for 10 years. For weeks, I would walk up and down the country road calling and calling them, thinking they wouldn’t even know where to come back to. We never saw them again, and it’s been 3 years now.  There was also a kitten that we had adopted right before we moved, Momo. After being here about 3 months, he was bitten by a snake and we lost him too.  I get so attached to these animals and it breaks my heart when we lose them.  Eventually I got a brother and sister cat act from a friend of my sister’s.  A torti that we named Lily and a little yellow lion looking guy  that we named Leo de Catrio.  Lily had 3 kittens before we could get her fixed, and 1 died at birth, it was deformed. The other 2 were Frank (had blue eyes) and Sammy (little black cat).   One day a stray washed up across the road by the mailbox, another little black guy we named him Dino (naturally). We lived in relative bliss for about a year, when I foolishly agreed to foster 3 cats for a woman moving here fom Kansas and was going to have to give them away. I offered to keep them for her until she could get her own house. She never came back for them.  That made 8 cats. This borders on lunacy.  One of the cats, little JinJin ran off and was never seen again, a very sweet and frightened cat that wouldn’t come out of hiding for 2 months after she first got here.  Then I sent one of the cats, a big black guy named Cricket, and ittle Dino (who had digestive problems as a result of being abandoned at such a young age and had diahrrea constantly)  to live outside on a farm a few miles from here. Both sweet cats, although Cricket had started getting aggressive with Lily.  So now they live the life of barn cats, and we’re all better off. One day, a beautiful yellow and white kitten came out from under that magical back deck and started following Pat around like he owned him.  Since he was cat #8 at that time, Patrick named him Octavio Cesare Augustus, and called him Augie for short.  He was a wonderful cat and all lovey and sweet and ferocious. He was tragically hit by a car about a year later, right in front of the house at the bottom of the driveway. Pat found him and was brokenhearted. One of the a**holes flying down this country road at 50 mph hit him. He is buried out in the backyard, with a slate and an angel marking his grave.  So now, we had another kitten wash up at the front door in the middle of one of the worst storms we had this year, and she was starving and freezing. She is named Junko Taibei, after the first woman to climb Mt Everest (thanks Beto)! She’s probably about a year old now, and then there’s the puppy.  SO the family is huge. lol

  I told Patrick this morning it’s probably good that we didn’t get together before we were too old to have kids.  We’d have had 12.  LOL  Off to care for the neighbor’s dogs while they’re in Utah.  The day is calling….

HO.

 Do Not Stand at my grave and weep

 I am not there, I do not sleep.

 I am a thousand winds that blow

I am the diamond glint on snow

I am the sunlight on ripened grain

I am the gentle autumn rain.

When you wake in the morning hush

I am the swift, uplifting rush

Of quiet birds in circling flight

I am the soft starlight at night.

Do not stand at my grave and weep.

I am not there, I do not sleep.

Do not stand at my grave and cry,

I am not there, I did not die.

~~~Mary Frye (1932)