To be alone in this loneliness gives one an overwhelming feeling of sadness, until footsteps are heard from behind. Looking around, the neighboring oak leaves drifting on the breeze fall in light ghostly footsteps to follow the gardener. A squirrel begins its lamenting eerie cries, and a fat robin looks at its reflection in the still water of the birdbath and takes a sip.
It is then this gardener remembers the most prized treasures in this lonely landscape are not only the ones that one may see, but also the ones of sounds and smells that create feelings of nostalgia of all things past, and anticipation of all things yet to come.
That is when this garden comes to life in the mind of this gardener in the season of frosty winter and sleeping landscapes.
One of the ash tree seed dams in pathway after rain storm
* Where the Wild Ones Are *
Walking the Dog.
I think Vic's baggy jeans are history after he viewed this shot.
Wellness: I’ve scheduled appointments to set myself up for a lousy or fortunate end of the year, depending on how I wish to take it all in. I received most of my surgery information today. Pre-op’s a cinch. Post-op sounds like a visit to the chambers of hell. I called my sister to calm myself down a bit.
I’m having a
bone spur removed from the back area of my right nostril, so I may breath
normal, whatever that is; and also a hole between the two nostrils will hopefully
be closed up. I always have a need to know,
so upon asking my doctor what causes a hole like that, he just said most likely
drugs. So what's the least likely, I inquired.
The most wonderful time of the year will come, and bid farewell while I'm re-taping new gauze across my nostrils every hour and digging into my collection of prescribed pain killers, blood clotting products and antiseptic ointment.
Snow Men and Snow Ladies
A little orphan I acquired bent up and missing a few coal buttons.
I love it.
Daytime
There was a time when I could actually put together something
that only started out as a thought in my mind;
you know, creativity.
*
Of that creativity, I still have four wreaths I've kept as my favorites.
The last attempt, at creating a new wreath, was met with disaster.
*
Put together, take apart...put together, take apart...put together, take apart...
It was a beauty in my eyes, but oh so dark dark dark, like funeral material.
I eventually had to give it up to lower my stress level :'(
It became Goodwill material,
as my husband hardly ever throws anything away.
The book wreath...my favorite.
Christmas ornaments from when we would set up a Christmas tree
More ornaments from the Christmas tree days
My first wreath.
First year in Tennessee, Vic's employer gave us a huge canister
of cookies for Christmas.
On a whim, I wired the lid to a grapevine wreath form,
and a wreath was formed around it.
It always hangs above the Livingroom fireplace at Christmas.
I've been deleting the rotten beginnings of this story so many times, I'm beginning to believe Christmas just isn't in me anymore. Yes, I managed to push myself into decorating yet another year hoping to create that feeling of the euphoria this season ought to bring, but instead I feel nothing special...just another day another day another day.
So, what to write...
Not again...
Who needs to write when one has toys!
I'm innocent...innocent, innocent, innocent, I tell you!!!
I get blamed for everything!
Mommy found my hiding place!
Get that camera out of my face!
Did you hear that psycho calico coming down the hallway?!?
Charlotte’s
been rushing at the opening gate to escape her imprisonment from my studio, so
yesterday we let her break free of her bondage for the day. Lacey promptly kicked the living daylights
out her leaving quite a few chunks of grey fur at the crime scene. Of course, none of this would happen if the
grey one stood her ground, but when she turns to run, that calico is after her
like a heat seeking missile.
So much
drama :’( Now my days are spent
encouraging that calico to move along out of her stakeout areas into more
neutral territories, and listening for that thumping sound of Lacey winning
another boxing match with claws extended.
Lacey NO!!! Lacey NO!!! Lacey NONONO!!! My favorite yelling phrase.
Funny how it
brings back memories of that first Christmas with Charlotte. Vic was overseas, so it was just me and my
household of pets…a quiet but loving time.
Sometimes when I look back, I say it was the year I had no life. Of course, I really did have a life…just not
the one I had in mind for myself.
The year was
literally spent domesticating two feral adult cats and five hissing feisty
kittens, through freezing cold, then sickness, then wellness exams and shots,
then learning to play with interactive toys with me, then finding forever homes for the kittens and our home for Charlotte and Austin. It was an overwhelmingly stressful year, but it finished out so
beautifully.
Looking back
to the Christmas when I wrote about Charlotte's life, I read – “She laid on the couch curled
up with her brother as the furnace kept the room nice and warm. A terrier sat by the fireplace, and a kitten
the age of her own hide in the tall cat tree; while the not so nice one laid on
her persons lap and the last one was under a bed.”
If one knows
cats…anything can go wrong at any time, and that not so nice one a few months
later became Charlotte's tormenting bully, and my studio room was gated to create a
sanctuary for her. Yesterday hence, the
gate is now left open during the day and closed after dinner giving her an
evening of safety and relaxation.
Believe me, Lacey is a full time job trying to create some tolerance in
her.
In a household where the husband doesn't cook well on his own without help, it will be a quiet Christmas dinner from Marie Callender of Steak & Roasted Potatoes, and Lattice Apple Pie. We wish you all a lovely season that brings a smile to your face and happiness in your heart.
With love ~
Yvonne & Vic
Dustin,
Lacey,
Charlotte & Austin
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