The Gardens - In the Beginning

Thursday, April 6, 2017

Do I really need to move to the cosmos to find a little breathing space?

Swerve too far to the left, you're tippy toeing through fire and brimstone.  Make a beeline towards the right, heaven will be just over the next horizon, won't it?  Well...maybe :'(

My wishing self is on vacation near the breathtaking Maroon Bells, while my real self is neck deep in the house and yard cleaning blues with a pesky little calico making sure heaven is never within a hundred mile radius of my existence.

Problem solving gratification lasts a whole ten seconds before the next dilemma surfaces to coil around me like a starving python.  I need breathing room!  I need to move to Oak Hills with a maid, a cook and a gardener and sit by the pool drinking cappuccino and munching on french macaroons.




A lovely bisque rose with a hint of peach and a quadrillion little thorns down her stem!


Charlotte and Austin are free to do as they please...
Austin...carefree and an equal opponent in the battle of territory is left alone, while poor Miss Charlotte stays tucked under my bed safe from little miss schizo kitty.  Any instructions on the plight of multi-cat families obviously have never dealt with a spitfire calico.  I've tried all the remedies!  None of them work!!  Help!!!

I've squirted her soaking wet, banged pans, and lost it a time or two, and she laughs in my face just two steps out of reach.  I've taken on the role of her mom, god rest her soul wherever she may be.  Quite an act grabbing a teeth and claw fighting machine by the scruff of her neck and an arm tucked under her butt to make it worth her while to obey she who must be obeyed.  It doesn't work...nothing works!  

She lays on my lap until the cows come home, and plays with the peacock feathers until the sun wakes on the horizon...and she's still a thousand thorns in my side, apparently forevermore.  She's only been squirted twenty some times since I began writing this little water baby crimeaholic kitty.     

The bad thing about living in the south with a ton of clay soil under your feet is that there is no good thing about a ton of clay soil under your feet.  Hired a landscaping company to improve the yard drainage so the house would quit rising then sinking during the four seasons. Drainage pipes were sunk underground completely destroying the gardens they ran through, then filled in with top soil first and thick clay last.  Now I have a brick hard adobe garden with the once surface plants at the bottom of the trench.  Number one choice of garden tools this year is the rusty old pick ax...JOY, joy.  

Husband...home again...gone again...nothing more to say.  A bit weary of saying goodbyes too soon after the hellos.'s just me, four cats and a little old terrier...and life goes on.

Friday, March 3, 2017

Why is my life always on that slippery slide to purgatory by should have, would have, could have?

Spring's just around the corner for the fifth time this winter :(  One day high in the day high in the forties.  I view my world a lot from windows nowadays.  I'm looking out one now as I type, and lunch on a concoction of baby dutch yellow potatoes and ground sirloin sauteed to a golden brown with fresh ground sea salt and black pepper, then two eggs lightly scrambled in...scrambled eggs succotash, I guess, and just half a cup of steaming hot coffee with milk.

To be simplistic, we shall just say I've been under the weather mentally these many days.  Seems to be overly easy to say I forgive you when one feels betrayed, but so dramatically complicated to actually forgive someone in the far corners of my mind and in the bottom depths of my heart.

I'm realizing that the effects of continual stress has cocooned itself around me with a ton of masking tape, and breaking away from it's hold is proving difficult.  Repeating a forgiveness mantra has helped concerning people in and out of my life, because the more I say it, the more I believe it :)

Listening to beautiful music has been re-introduced into my world and of course, there are the stretch exercises I will be doing until the end of time to increase my quality of living.  The ability to walk and sit should never be underrated.

Becoming a bit more minimalist with material things in my life has been an underlying theme since the creation of this blog and !rats! my life is still bogged down with material clutter :( :( :(  I'm working on it.  That's all I can say...I'm working on it!

I've shortened my version of room clutter roulette.  Second move is straight to the trash can.  I'm still trying to figure out how to empty that recycle bin in my head.  

The woebegone saga of Charlotte and Austin concluded yesterday with the bars of confinement torn down and relegated to the dark recesses of the garage.  Fingers crossed!  For those who have too soon forgotten, they were doomed to the prison of my studio for the last two years because of a spit fire calico named Lacey on a mission to chase Charlotte to the moon and leave her there, and a black stinker of a cat on a mission to chase Lacey off the face of the earth forever.

Two years later I finally had to admit defeat at trying to integrate this little black pesty cakes into the household of other cats.  We had to remove him completely.  The choice I made to try and keep happiness with the rest of the gang weighs heavy on my heart.  I can't forgive myself for giving up, because he went to a place that wasn't a guarantee of his continuance of life.  That's the best I can do without actually saying I probably gave him a death sentence.  I'm still sad on that one even though it was six months back.


life goes on.

Saturday, January 14, 2017

Kitty Litter Karaoke

Topsy-Turvey Blues

Woke myself up
purring last night,
curled up tight 
on the living room couch...

rubbed my nose
on the dining room chair,
licked my fingers
to rubbed over my ears...

gulped down hubby's sandwich
when he left for a beer,
stared with indifference
as he blamed his poor dog :)

poked holes in the arm chair
with my teeth and nails,
then jumped on the counter
to lick dirty dishes...

I'm doing as I please,
with only one complaint,
this evil-smelling cat pan
is two smidgens too small.

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