A Day Without a Cat

All our knowledge merely helps us to die a more painful death than animals that know nothing. ~Maurice Maeterlinck

Thanks to everyone for your condolences on losing Breeann. Truly, it was time -- she was so weak, she couldn't stand, she'd been vomiting regularly since Sunday, and hadn't had any food since Sunday morning. She'd been sleeping on her bed in the basement for more than two days without coming upstairs. I'm certain that we made the right decision, but we still miss her.

Odd things about not having Breeann that I didn't think I'd miss ... but I do:

In the mornings, she always followed me into the bathroom -- no one else is up, and I can leave the door open. She'd come in, meow, rub, wander out. Just because she could.

Having her block the back door when I take the dog out. My routine was always to get up, go down to the basement and let Breeann out then take Dakota outside. She'd stand at the door for us to come back and would NOT move when Dakota wanted in. The dog wouldn't challenge her ... would just stand and wait until I poked the cat with my foot to get her to move. I'm pretty sure it was all a way for Breeann to remind the dog just who was boss.

Her talking. She was a very vocal cat and she'd just walk around the house chatting to herself.

We're looking for a new kitty at the animal shelter. Some may think it's too soon, but I learned with Bailey's passing, and the subsequent arrival of Dakota soon after, that having a new animal helps with the mourning process. It's comforting and helps to fill the void. While no other animal actually "replaces" the previous one, when you're used to having pets in your home, nothing makes you feel right again until you have one once more.

We want an older, female, declawed cat. My DH (as I mentioned yesterday) doesn't like cats, but tolerates them on my account (I've had cats since I was born). Still, I need to make sure whatever cat we get doesn't wreak havoc -- he won't tolerate one that tears up the furniture (hence getting one that is declawed), or tears around the house knocking things over (hence getting an older one). I've had bad experiences with male cats spraying even after they are fixed, so I prefer female cats. We don't want one that looks like Breeann. The two closest shelters to us have four cats that meet all the requirements but the last -- three of the four are tabbies like Breeann was, and one even has her same face (I swear, I thought I was looking at a picture of her), so that leaves us with one. She's a long-haired calico, and we'll go see if she's still available and if her temperament will work with our family dynamic.

This is her picture:



We're having Breann's ashes returned to us (the cost for this is crazy ... but I couldn't just have her tossed in the garbage bin and I didn't want to bury her out back) and will plant a memorial bush or other perennial in her honor (like we did for Bailey, who has a "Bailey's Dogwood" outside). I'd like something that has "cat" in its name, so will need to do some research. Anyone have any suggestions?

In the meantime, this weekend will consist of buying MORE things for DD for school (does it ever end?), cutting down a pile of perennials that have gone past, and working on the LASR/WC website. Unfortunately, my wireless router opted to stop working, and I needed to order a new one that won't be here until next week. So, I either have to hardwire into the modem and sit on our sofa, or tether to my phone (which is what I'm doing now). Sitting at the sofa hurts my body after a bit, and the phone runs everything slowly, but I'm managing and trying to be grateful I have that option.

Wishing you all a wonderful weekend.

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You Are Skilled

You are balanced and competent. You value harmony. Other people see you as outgoing, hyper, and even a bit overwhelming. Your ideal romantic relationship is peaceful, romantic, and private. You do best in tasks that require you to be flexible, creative, and playful.

The Shape Test

Hmmm ... 50/50

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Pioneer Woman, the History

The trouble with simple living is that, though it can be joyful, rich, and creative, it isn't simple. ~Doris Janzen Longacre

I had lots of comments yesterday on the post -- most agreeing it's a good thing to continue to do the hard work and pass on knowledge. I absolutely agree.

It's amazing to me how many folks don't know you can bake or cook certain things from scratch (how exactly do they think the food companies MAKE things?). My SIL baked bread once, a kind of raisin bread that's a tradition in her family, and brought a few loaves to work. She had one worker comment, "I didn't know you could bake this at home!"

I admit to being lazy and not always WANTING to make things from scratch, but the fact is: I know how if I want to. I have recipes for bread, pizza dough, tortillas, etc. Mostly I buy them. Sometimes I make them at home.

The thing is this: I was raised by a mother who made everything from scratch.

Many, many years ago, my step-father decided we should "get back to the land" and we purchased 40 acres in a little podunk town called Mt. Aukum. I was nine years-old and we celebrated this country's bicentennial up there.

The land was undeveloped. There was an old, falling-down cabin that had been built back in the dark ages (and that we eventually tore down), and a clear spring that had been tapped and captured in a wooden barrel. That's it.

No electricity. No phone. No running water. No house. No... nothing.

My family (this includes one of my brothers and one of my sisters) lived in tents while we dug an outhouse and brought in a tiny trailer...little more than one of those pop-up campers folks use for their weeklong outdoors experiences nowadays. Eventually, a small shed was built attached to the trailer where we kids lived, while my mom and step-father lived in the trailer.

We put the trailer downhill from the spring, and a L-O-N-G hose was hooked up between the trailer and the spring -- our version of running water. We had a propane stove to cook with (I can still remember once, sitting at the table getting ready to eat when the stove did this 'WHOOSH' thing and flames shot out and singed one side of my head and hair).

It was here, with little money (my mom didn't work outside the home and my step-father ran an antiques refinishing shop) that Mom cooked.

We had a garden... a BIG one (an acre or so). We had dogs and cats and horses and chickens and eventually we got goats for milk, though that wasn't until three years later and on a different piece of property in Mt. Aukum that didn't even have a spring, and we had to haul water. I owned two pairs of pants, one long dress ala Little House on the Prairie, one pair of hiking books and a couple of shirts for each season. I wore one pair of pants for two or three days in a row to school, because my other pants had been washed by hand using a washboard and were hanging to dry.

I walked to the bus stop, just over a mile away (and it was only uphill in the snow one way *G*) every day, with my homemade lunch in hand. I usually had peanut butter and homemade jam on homemade whole wheat bread. Sometimes, my mom lucked into a big can of pie filling from our church and made homemade pies that were shaped to look like Hostess ones. I usually had a fruit of some kind, and I got free milk at school because we were poor. Mom spent her days weeding the garden, cooking, harvesting, caring for the animals, washing clothes and more. She was our Ma Ingalls.

I never felt poor. It was during a time where kids didn't really care what you wore (we didn't even have designer clothes then), or whether you listened to the right music or watched what they did on TV (after all, there were only four channels then, and my family didn't have a TV regardless).

My folks read Mother Earth magazine and lived that lifestyle. We took spit-baths in the winter, showered in the summer using outdoor shower with an Army portable shower hookup that only held five gallons of water (so... turn it on, get wet, turn it off and soap up, turn it on and rinse off).

And you know what? I never minded one bit of it. I didn't go hungry, even if I did eat a lot of beans and pea soup. I learned the names of plants and how to grow and harvest them. I learned about chickens and how to gather eggs. I learned how to raise a goat and how to milk one. I had a pony to ride and a million acres of land to tromp around on. I had friends to visit (I'd have to walk a couple of miles to get there... but it never seemed all that long then), and it never seemed as though I was deprived of anything.

And I know without a doubt if we suddenly lost everything, I could survive. It wouldn't be fun or glamorous, but I could do it. And THAT is the best heritage my mother could have given me. I hope I can pass that on to my daughter.

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You Think Best While You're Driving

In order to be able to think, you need to be able to have time to think. Problem is, there isn't a lot of time for that in your life. When you are driving, you are finally able to let your mind wander. And it wanders to some pretty interesting places. Depending on the conditions, driving can make you feel elated, relaxed, or even frustrated. All of these varying emotions spark a lot of revelations. While the thoughts you have while driving may have a lot of noise in them, there's definitely some insight to be found.

Where Do You Think Best?

Blogthings: Learn Something Surprising About Yourself

Hmmm... maybe when I'm driving alone, which is almost never anymore.

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I've Been Shot!

Nostalgia is like a grammar lesson: you find the present tense, but the past perfect! ~ Owens Lee Pomeroy

Anne-Katherine sent me this award:



The meaning of this award is that this blog is worthy of being photographed.

The rules for this award are:

Post the badge on your blog and link to who gave it to you. Choose five life situations that could be repeated in slow motion and explain why. Tag a dozen blogs and let them know it.

The five life situations I would choose to repeat are...

1. My DD's toddlerhood. Yes, it's easier now that she's older, but I miss the days when she was small. I'd like to hear her babytalk, and her joy at discovery, her baby laugh... No wonder people have big families! LOL... they want to repeat that part.

2. Any time before two years ago when my mom still lived here. I miss her and would really like to see her again.

3. My darling angel-dog Bailey's puppyhood. She was the CUTEST puppy (sorry Dakota) and so easy to raise. I still miss her terribly.

4. My early twenties. I had so much fun then -- lots of friends, lots of activities. I miss the carefree times from then... I didn't worry about the future, didn't worry about money, didn't worry about much of anything.

5. High School. No, really. I enjoyed high school. Sure, it had its rough moments, but for the most part it was good.

The hardest part for me in choosing those times was to NOT choose times I would like to go back to and CHANGE, but to choose the best times instead. What about you? Consider yourself tagged -- and then tell me what 5 times you'd like to repeat -- not to change them, but just to reexperience them and why.

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So, one of our pillars unexpectedly went on walkabout yesterday IN THE WRONG BOX. Bugsy decided it was time, and made his "J" faster than I've seen one do it before, little bugger. And once they are in place, I can't move them. So, now I have a pupae on the wrong box, and am going to worry every time I lift the lid to feed the other bugs. :::grumble, grumble:::

Ethel made her "J" on the slippery packing tape I have lining the top of the second box. I'm an absolute wreck about it -- so worried that when she wiggles out of her skin, she'll come off the tape and fall. The only other pillar I've raised who fell while shedding its skin ended up with a birth defect (he was missing the bottom wings). I must have checked her a dozen times yesterday, and suspect she's made her pupae overnight (but DH is asleep and I can't go check). I was awake for quite a while last night... worrying. Sheesh...

We have one more that I moved into the pupae box yesterday -- just in case she decided to pull a Bugsy, and one more that will probably go in today. I sure hope this rain lets up, though, because we can't release in the rain and it's been nearly non-stop for weeks. Yes, I'm worried about that, too. Do you sense a theme? *G*

What was your weekend like?

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Monday Morning Meme and MP3 Player Giveaway

Education would be much more effective if its purpose was to ensure that by the time they leave school every boy and girl should know how much they do not know, and be imbued with a lifelong desire to know it. ~William Haley



1. What was your favorite subject in grade school? Why did you enjoy this subject so much? What was your favorite part about this subject?

Does basketball count? LOL... seriously, I loved school, so it's hard to choose. Probably English (which is called "language arts" now for whatever reason -- was there something wrong with calling it English?). I imagine I loved the subject partly because it was easy for me and partly because I just love words. Grammar interests me. Reading was usually incorporated in the subject (in grade school at least) as well as writing (I had my first writing prompt in sixth grade -- my teach had one of those boxes where you choose a card with a first line...) and, to be honest, I'm a bit of a grammar geek. I'm not perfect, but I really enjoy grammar (and all the goofy rules that go along with it).

2. Tell me about your best friend in grade school. Do you still keep in touch? If not, why did the friendship dissolve?

Um... Janet Saling. We stayed friends into adulthood, but in our twenties, just slowly lost touch. I tried to find her a few years ago, and still look for her now and then on Classmates.com or Facebook. Hey, Janet... if you're out there, drop me a line!

Janet was one constant in my life from fourth grade at Pioneer school on. We moved a lot, and I attended several schools, but we stayed in touch. I remember when I was returning to Pioneer school after a few years away (the middle of seventh grade, because we never seemed to move at the beginning of a school year -- so, not only was I always the "new kid" I had to figure out how to fit in mid-year after all the other "new kids" already found their niche). I was so nervous, changing schools in junior high ... my folks dropped me off for the first day, and -- standing out in front, waiting -- was Janet. I hadn't been in touch with her for a while, but she'd heard through the grapevine (Pioneer was a VERY tiny school in a VERY tiny town with a BIG grapevine) that I was returning, so she wanted to welcome me back.

A good memory. I hope she's happy, wherever she is.

3. Do you remember your first day of school? If not your very first day, then please tell us about the earliest memory of your first day of school - how did you feel? What did you wear? Did it take long for you to make new friends? Do you remember anything about the classroom or the teacher?

I don't remember kindergarten. I skipped first grade, so my first memories are of second grade. Mrs. Butler was my teacher. I don't remember school, but I do remember recess and how ALL the girls thought Darin Reynolds was s-o-o-o-o-o cute. We used to chase him up to the monkey bars (there were two sets: one for girls, one for boys, so he could be safe). Poor kid. He probably never enjoyed a recess because he was always being chased by a gaggle of girls! LOL...

Otherwise, to be honest, I have few memories of school until fourth grade, for whatever reason. ::shrugs:: I have lots of memories of that time, just not of school. Guess it didn't make a huge impression on me!

4. Let’s jump to middle school. What were your middle school years like? Did you have a lot of friends? Did you adjust quickly or slowly to the change from grade school? What was your favorite subject in middle school?

Middle school... that's what, sixth, seventh, eighth? See, when I was young we had elementary, junior high and high school. And, I homeschool my DD, so the new terms confuse me.

Um... As noted previously, we moved a lot. I went to fifth grade at Pioneer, sixth at Sierra School, started seventh at Mitchell Jr. High, switched mid-year to Pioneer, started eight grade at Pioneer, switched mid-year BACK to Mitchell, started ninth grade at El Dorado High School, switched mid-year to Mills Jr. High (they did 7-8-9 and was I ever annoyed at ending up BACK in junior high) ...

Anyway, you get the idea.

Thankfully, most of the schools were in the same general area, so I could usually find someone I knew -- until I hit Mills Jr. High, which is another story and NOT middle school, so I'll leave it be.

I don't really recall suffering through any adjustment. Even in fifth grade, we used to switch classes for electives and stuff, so the changing classes thing never bothered me. I suspect that the fact I changed schools so much made it easier for me to deal with the other changes that came along. I never really got settled into a routine, so I just went with the flow.

I had lots of people I hung out with, and getting along was never an issue for me, but I also seldom developed deep friendships -- because I only knew people for a year or less before we moved. Unfortunately, this little quirk seems to have followed me into adulthood, where I know LOTS of people, but have deep friendships with very, very few.

Tell me about your school memories.

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Karen, who hosts the Monday Morning Meme is having a Bloggy Giveaway on her blog -- she's giving away an MP3 player! It's easy to enter, all you have to do is comment (daily if you'd like).

The link to the contest info is here.

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We at JaNoWriMo are going to continue on with our writing group -- the rules will be changing a bit, but the big thing is that the "ja" in JaNoWriMo can't stand for "January" anymore. And, we're not writing a novel in a month. But, I don't want to change the link, so I'm looking for help. What ELSE can JaNoWriMo stand for?

Ja = ?
No = ?
Wri = ?
Mo = ?

Help?

Anyone, anyone?

Please? I'm desperate....

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Your Expression Number is 6

You have an outstanding sense of responsibility, love, and balance. You are helpful and inclined to comfort those in need. You have many artistic and creative talents, but you only use them to better others. You are loving, friendly, and appreciative of others. You have a depth of understanding that produces much kindness and generosity. Openness and honesty are apparent in your approach to all relationships. Sometimes, you can be too demanding of yourself. At times, you tend to sacrifice yourself for the welfare of others. At other times, you have trouble distinguishing between helping and interfering.

What's Your Expression Number?

Um... a lot is true, but not all of that. Interesting...

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So Proud!

Death leaves a heartache no one can heal, love leaves a memory no one can steal. ~ From a headstone in Ireland

Yesterday, Michele and I were IMing about some editing issues on a book the site read for review -- a shame, because the book was really quite good except for that, and the author was cheated. Of course, if the author had been stronger grammatically to begin with...but that's another story.

Anyway, during this exchange, my DD walked up, showed me the book she was reading (an Encyclopedia Brown) and said, "This isn't right, is it, Mama?" and pointed to sentence. "Isn't that like 'mountain peak'?"

The sentence? "Joey looked into the room to peak at the hamster."

Yes, my eight y.o. daughter knows what so many aspiring authors do not--the difference between peak, peek, and pique.

I am so proud.

I'm thinking of having her apply for the job of editor at the publishing house that put out the book m. and I were talking about.

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Puppy was seriously in the doghouse last night. She was a one-puppy wrecking crew. I have had this lovely plant in the TV room, long and thick and lush... she shredded it not once, but TWICE yesterday afternoon. And after the way I yelled at her the first time (I was hoarse for a good twenty minutes after), I figured she wouldn't want anything to do with that area. At least not for awhile. Ha. She was back at it in a matter of minutes.

She tore holes in my clothes--she does this leaping/snapping thing where she jumps in the air at you, grabs on to anything she can and then falls to the ground. Sometimes she gets clothes, sometimes she gets skin.

I had a very intense training session with her yesterday, working on "come", "sit" and "off". She did famously. And then, when it was over, she promptly forgot every last thing.

I do realize that part of the problem is that she can't get outside and run loose all the time. I can't pitch balls for her, or take her for long walks because of the stinking weather. And the only place in town that used to host dog play groups stopped doing so because we had some dog parks open up in the area. Well, yeah... but HELLO! It's winter, here...

Okay, this is officially the last post I'll write complaining about Dakota. Promise.

In other doggie news, the vets office called to let me know Bailey's ashes came in and I can go pick them up. Yes, we had her cremated. We're going to build her a little memory garden out back AND have started work on a memorial shadow box, with her collar and tags, some hair I snipped off her, her favorite toy, etc. and will put a tin of her ashes in there as well.

I miss her. Everyday, I miss her. When I come home, I fully expect to hear her bark. When I wake up, I expect to stumble over her at the foot of the bed. I miss having her try to trade her chew bones for my snacks, or bark at the vacuum. It isn't getting any easier. Not yet.

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You Should Have a Blue Christmas Tree

For you, the holidays represent a time of calm, understanding, and peace. You avoid family fights, and you don't get too stressed out - even when things are crazy! You like to make Christmas about making everyone's life a little bit better. You don't get caught up in greed or commercialism. You're too sincere for that. Your blue tree would look great with: Lots of silver tinsel You should spend Christmas Eve watching: It's a Wonderful Life What you should bake for Santa: Chocolate chip cookies

What Color Christmas Tree Should You Have?

Yes on the movie and cookies... NO on the rest! LOL...

Friday Feast and Depressed Dogs

I think we are drawn to dogs because they are the uninhibited creatures we might be if we weren't certain we knew better. They fight for honor at the first challenge, make love with no moral restraint, and they do not for all their marvelous instincts appear to know about death. Being such wonderfully uncomplicated beings, they need us to do their worrying. ~George Bird Evans, Troubles with Bird Dogs

Feast One Hundred & Sixty Nine

Appetizer
What was your first “real” job?

I had work experience my senior year of high school -- the school set up interviews, and you could actually take it as part of your credits. We had two hour classes T-F (1-3-5 periods T/TH and 2-4-6 periods W/F), so I had my job in 5th and 6th periods. I took the bus (yes, it's TRUE! I didn't have a car, even as a senior. My unreasonable parents thought I should actually, yanno, earn the money for one myself. Go figure.) to a restaurant called "The Old San Francisco Express" and worked as a hostess.

I can't tell you how grateful I am to have never had to work in fast food. I went from hostessing there to becoming a waitress at eighteen, and then taking a second job as a teller in a bank.

I still LOVE to wait tables. And, if I ever go back to work, that's most likely what I will do.

Soup
Where would you go if you wanted to spark your creativity?

Good heavens -- anywhere. If I'm alone, I think things. If I'm out, I people watch. I find creativity driving down the street or watching TV or weeding the garden. I honestly don't think there is one particular place that would do it for me.

Salad
Complete this sentence: I am embarrassed when…

Hmmm... I don't embarrass easy. I don't care if I have broccoli in my teeth, or if I stumble down the stairs or say something silly. I spent my entire growing up years in drama and choir and have no problem being in front of people. And, I really don't care much what people think about me -- and isn't that a requirement to be embarrassed?

Okay... how about, I'm embarrassed when I complain about bad grammar on my blog, and then use it! LOL...

Main Course
What values did your parents instill in you?

The Golden Rule. It sounds trite, but it's true. I do tend to think as much as possible about how I would want to be treated when I interact with people.

Also, a deep respect for life -- all life: human and creature. So, yes, I scoop up spiders and throw them outside, and feed the squirrels. I will admit to killing black flies and Japanese Beetles with great abandon, but otherwise, I pretty much leave critters alone.

Dessert
Name 3 fads from your teenage years.

I grew up in the late 70s/early 80s so I could totally, like go to town here. #1: Valley Speak (remember Moon Unit Zappa?). I'm from California, where we totally thought it was gnarly to talk that way. You didn't? Well, gag me with a spoon!

#2: The Saturday Night Fever dance -- we actually learned it IN SCHOOL in one of my classes.

#3: Shoulder pads. OMG. Remember Linda Evans on Dynasty?? Was she styling or WHAT?

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My dog is off her food. I think it might just be that she'd depressed. Her medication for the urinary track infection (see Monday's post) requires that I split a pill, and the sound from the pill splitter scares her (*snap*!). She wouldn't eat yesterday, even when I doctored her food with meat and gravy. This morning, she watched as I pulled out her pills. She was good when I got her usual arthritis meds, but the moment I pulled out the envelope with the anti-biotic, she ran away and WOULD NOT come back.

She sat at the top of the stairs and refused to budge. I pulled, I grabbed, I called her a shameful-bad-dog and still she just sat and wouldn't move. She had the good grace to look embarrassed, because she really doesn't ever misbehave, but those pills have pushed her over the edge. I finally picked her up and carried her downstairs (understand, she isn't a small dog -- she's 70 pounds) and made her lie down. Then I got out peanut butter (something she doesn't associate with her pills) and rolled up the antibiotic inside. She took it. Then I put her glucosomine in the wet dog food and gave it to her and she took it. But... she still won't eat her regular food.

Looks like I'll be calling the vet AGAIN.

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Your Preppy Name Is...

Sexton Goodloe Vanleer the Fifth But most people know you as Gigi

What's Your Preppy Name?

Memories...

Nostalgia is a file that removes the rough edges from the good old days. ~Doug Larson

Funny how, when you're a little down, you want your parents. I'm forty-years-old, and yesterday in the midst of my pity party, I missed my mom (who is in California) and my dad (who passed away seventeen years ago) so badly it surprised me. Because it's been so long since my dad died, I don't miss him (consciously) on a daily basis, but sometimes it sneaks up and blindsides me out of the blue. Usually it's music that does it, and yesterday was no exception.

I was already thinking about him a bit, because it was Veteran's Day, and he fought in WWII. I've been writing stories in and around that era, and have been doing research into it, and wished he'd talked about it a little more. He never did talk about it. In fact, I didn't know he'd met and married a German woman (and then, subsequently divorced and married my mom) when he was there. I didn't know that until after he died and I got all his things, including letters he'd written and received during the war.

Yesterday, while he was already floating in my consciousness, the song "Leader of the Band" by Dan Fogleberg came on the radio, and my DD asked me what it was about. I told her a bit about the singer following in his father's footsteps, but then the lyric came on about, "The leader of the band is tired, and his eyes are growing old..." and I started to ball like a baby. This wasn't good for two reasons -- DD is freaked out when I cry (because I don't do that often), and I was driving (LOL).

So, I miss you, Dad. And, Mom (because I know you read this blog), I miss you, too, and wish we were closer (in miles) than we are.

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Hey! I've been so busy, I'd almost forgotten: My latest story, "The Christmas Curse" comes out from The Wild Rose Press TOMORROW!!



There are broken elevators, and singing telegrams and so much more! What better start to your holiday season? I'll post the link (and some kind of contest... not that I know WHAT! -- oh, publicity director?) tomorrow.

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So, DD now has a crush on Donny Osmond. LOL... she saw him perform on YouTube, and said he's very handsome (at, yanno, ten-years-old). I, OTOH, think he's aged marvelously (he's a GRANDFATHER!! You think that doesn't make me feel old?) and I much prefer this version of "Puppy Love" (sorry, they disabled embedding).

Yep... I still have a crush on that man.

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You Should Be a Joke Writer

You're totally hilarious, and you can find the humor in any situation. Whether you're spouting off zingers, comebacks, or jokes about life... You usually can keep a crowd laughing, and you have plenty of material. You have the makings of a great comedian - or comedic writer.

What Type of Writer Should You Be?