Quirky Lisa (Lisa's Chaos) is today's Hostess with the mostess quirks. She used the following instructions to enlighten us about today's topic: A quirk is defined as a peculiarity of action, behavior, or personality; mannerism. We are all unique individuals, having quirks that help make us who we are. I would like to know what your quirks are. Confess to one, confess to ten, you decide. Just come back Monday ready to spill the beans, the rest of the world may look at you like you are from Mars, but you‘re among friends here. We won’t laugh, in fact that eccentricity just may endear you to us more. Well ...I'm being as quirky as Swampwitch today. I'm sorta following the rules, and sorta not. Instead of hearing about my boring quirkiness, you are being treated to an old story about a quirky cat. * * * * Daggett was a cat with very odd behavior. I like to think she channeled my monthly mood swings. But, her excuse may be that her head was slightly injured in
Showing posts from June, 2008
My post title is a little plagiarism from the Musical Cats. As summer arrived, our Marvelous Magical Ms Tessy (The Contessa) was plagued with matted hair on her underside. She constantly grooms and vomits hairballs. Aaaauugh! Plus, she was almost as cranky as I was last week during my blogging withdrawals. (According to the hubby) A couple of days ago today So, today he took her to a groomer where he said she was very well behaved. The woman gently buzzed the offending fur away and left her with look of a...well ... a skinny CAT! (Maybe a summer groom was part of her routine before we found the old beauty at the animal shelter. We've had her 2 1/2 years - which puts her between 10 and 11 years old.) With the computer and the cat both on the mend - life at The Dust should be back to abnormal.
Earliest memories of our home on the hillside contain the weekly banners of fresh laundry billowing from the clothesline on the small rise above the house. My piano teacher, who lived down in the vale , once mentioned how the sheets reflected so clean and white in the sunshine. Mama utilized that old ringer-washer every Thursday for years. It was complimented by two rinse tubs. The first load was the kitchen towels and linens, followed by other whites and lights. By the time dads work clothes agitated, the water was gray and suds less. The tub was finally drained, dried out, and pushed back into the corner. (And so was mama.) She used soap ( Fels Naptha) so she could drain all her efforts into the back yard and keep it green during the summer months. She collected plates, cups, and saucers from one of her boxed soap purchases. The surface of the dishware was a bright gold color that wore off easily to reveal a milky white glass interior. (There was just
Our Fun Monday Host this week is Molly, Return of the White Robin . She requested that we share a fond memory of childhood and some pictures. There are very few pictures of my childhood. There are, however, many memories. Little snippets of sounds and smells raced through my mind today as I tried to find a trail to follow. I jotted down many that I hoped would provide me with an idea for today's assignment. Then, I realized that these little bits and pieces are part of the jig saw puzzle of me -- of who I am. You don't have to put them together, but I think you'll see the picture. Childhood Memories The chorus of frogs from the pond in the lower pasture that lulled us to sleep on warm summer nights. Catching polliwogs in the creek that disappeared several pastures over into a foliage camouflaged ravine. The distinct sweet smell of new born kittens inside a barrel in the fruit house The hunt for the elusive Tiger Lily in the open fields, and the pungen
The Clematis blooms once more beside the back yard gate. Rainy and cooler weather best describes our spring so the flowers are a tiny bit smaller than last year. However, the Rhododendron just beyond the gate prefers this weather. They bloomed with abandoned this week while I was gone. They are past their prime bloom - but still appealing to a regular sized stinging creature (on the right) and a BIG bumble bee (left) sharing the blossom. I didn't have the ruler with me, so I improvised. *Trifocals come in very handy.
I discovered the most difficult thing about helping with the new baby is keeping 4 1/2 year-old Buttercup quiet when "mommy" naps. We had a quiet moment this morning on the sun porch while Jammin went to a sports camp. Me: Look Buttercup! There's a mama Blackbird. Buttercup: Yup. She eats the peanuts. Then she goes back to the babies and pukes it up and says "here's lunch." Me, keeping a straight face: I like peanuts, especially in trail mix. Buttercup: I like peanuts, too. As long as my mommy doesn't puke 'em up.