THE DUST WILL WAIT

We have a new cat.  She belonged to our granddaughter who moved away.  Now she belongs to us.  Or we belong to her. Our first worry was that she would pee in our house.  She hasn't.  There were three dogs in the other home that makes us believe Bean had dog anxiety.  Her litter box is used and refreshed daily. The second worry was that she would not be happy as an indoor cat.  She is?   She has enjoyed the view of the back yard from her cat tree and has figured out how to access every window sill in the house.  (We have no plans to let her out where she would encounter one of the feral cats that recently bullied their way into our neighborhood. Oh! That's another post story, for sure!) The final worry was that we might not be able to adjust to another pet.  .... crickets...... Well here's the deal.  Bean is part Siamese.  All the bad parts. For instance --  last night.  Bedtime. We crawl into bed. Yawn.   Bean climbs (not the first time) to the shelf above the mirror on my

 In November I spent several weeks with my daughter after her surgery.  One evening,  9 year-old grandson Squeak was playing a game on his computer with his best friend Arty.  The Covid way - both at their own homes connected live on the internet. My daughter and I had enjoyed listening to them joking and giggling while they played. When Arty's mom called him to dinner,  Squeak disconnected and walked in to sit with us. "Arty's family is vegetarian," my daughter mentioned. "In fact, I think his mom is a vegan!" I looked up at her from my Kindle to connect my thoughts. "You know," I sighed, "Being a vegetarian is fine. But I could never be a Vegan. Can you imagine never having butter or cheese?" "Just nope!." She answered.  "Cheese is not negotiable." "I could be a vegan, " Squeak announced with some serious head nods. Then he added a clarification. "As long as I could eat Bacon!"

  Last week was TRASH your eyewear week! Thursday: The Hubby decided to paint the hallway. As he bent over to coat the roller, his readers slid off his head and disappeared into the latex Friday: The Hubby was wearing his prescription glasses while he used the skill saw in the garage. A lens just popped right out and onto the bench. When he attempted to pop it back in, he saw the crack in the frame Saturday: The Hubby was reading across from me at the kitchen table. ( which I've confess we share with the cat). I left the room. Whereupon my return I stepped with a huge crunch, barefoot, upon another pair of readers. Which, we presume, was batted effectively off the table by our playful Siamese, Bean.

Propped up in bed, 7 a.m.  (To me that feels like sleeping in and that I got close to 8 hours of beauty rest.  But, that's not where my thoughts should be spinning right now.  Damn "SQUIRREL!" inerference.) Anyhoo..... I grabbed my cell phone and opened FACEBOOK.  (Yes, I'm one of those oldies)  A friend said she didn't WORDLE.  Another SQUIRREL! So I searched for it immediately.  New Trend, Everybody is doing it.  (I mean - like - everybody!) The trick would be to read the directions first.  Which I didn't.  Simply put you have five blank boxes, six lines deep.  Six opportunities to guess a five-letter word from no hint whatsoever.  You type in a word, hit enter.  If a letter is correct it will pop yellow.  If correct and in the correct space it will pop green. I got three green letters on my very first attempt.  I hadn't read the WORDLE instructions so I wasted the next attempt.  (That is why cooking in my kitchen is such a recipe for disaster.) Long sto

 This morning I was awake early.  Too early.   I walked into the office where I pushed the wake up button on the computer and waited.  Then, when it came to life I clicked on my family tree program.   I pulled up my brother's name and wrote in the date of death as November 25, 2021.   He is gone.   My brother was a warrior through his six plus year fight with terminal cancer.  Stage four when diagnosed.  Given a much shorter life expectancy than he achieved.  There were times when we thought the time was near. Then he would rally and a new chemo treatment would be available to inflate our hopes for a different outcome. In all there were seven different protocols that he engaged.  There were several that reduced the lesions and granted him some near normal activity.  He went on a tour to Ireland early in his treatment plan.  Then to Russia.  Although the later one came with more difficulty.  Still, he enjoyed and claimed the victory. Some of the chemotherapy plans worked for a time,

 It was 1970 when dad and mom came to visit me in Corrales, NM.  I lived in a very old  style square adobe house at the edge of the small town.(At the time it was said '1000 people, 2000 dogs, 3000 registered horses.')  It was primitive with a breath-taking view of the Sandia Mountains.  I saw dad on his knees in the dusty yard. So, I ran out fearing he was having a stroke or heart attack. Instead, I heard him chanting " doodle up, doodle up, doodle up bug," Oh! We shared a rare moment and giggle that day.  He had discovered the vortex of an ant- lion... AKA doodle bug. The nostalgia washed over me this morning.    I have not experienced a doodle bug here.  But on occasion I do giggle over the usually hidden pill bugs.  My grandchildren call them roly- poly. No one was here to share the moment.  So, lucky you. P.S.  I was truly chasing a hummingbird ..so I'm not totally losing focus.