WHATEVER ~ For lack of a better title.

My life is mostly memories now, and whether they are as the caressing warmth of a late summer day, or as the jarring chill of an early winter morning, they are the sum of my existence.

Well…  maybe.

It’s a good feeling to think I really mattered in life, but the truth of it all is that I will never know if I ever mattered at all. 

Our neighbor next door on the corner of our block, came into a windfall of money just as the wife was becoming really depressed with all the operations she had yet to endure after a scooter accident a year ago.  After selling their home to a corporation that fixes up homes to sell again, they disappeared out of our existence in less than a weeks’ time.

A group of workers came in and literally wiped our neighbors’ existence off the face of our block, by ripping out their entire garden and disposing of it at the landfill.  It was quite jolting to see nothing left but a row of tiny new shrubs along the front of the house.  A solemn reminder that we don’t always escape the whiteout of our existence when we no longer exist in that time. 

I suppose it may be different for families whose generations pass on their legacy, but my legacy will be only what remains in the minds of those who knew me and cared about me.  When they pass on or forget, it will be as if I, my pets, and my gardens never existed.  It is a sobering thought that doesn’t amuse.

Basically, my legacy is only what exists in present tense.  The sum of me is me today, at this moment in time… nothing more, and nothing less. 

I’m beginning to feel the shortness of  life, like I'm a nanosecond in the sea of time.

Keeper of the Ash Tree Seeds

Little Tyke

Winter Savory

Still evergreen in all this freezing weather.

Hiding in the Leaf Litter

Mockingbird in Flight

Seersucker Sedge, I think.

I moved it to a better location when it sprouted on its own last year.

It's happy here.

When one has cats, one must always check all nooks and crannies before closing any closet door.  Well… not following my advice, I was woken up at 2:00 am by a talking closet door that when swung open coughed up a perturbed cat disappearing in a flash down the hall and out of sight.  She was trapped three hours, as my medicine acts much as a sleeping pill, sending me to the depths of sleep.

She seemed fine and the day after she was surprised with a veterinary visit which almost didn’t happen.  It was a bit of a struggle to secure her in the carrier, and her visit was just a short in and out to get a urine sample.  I guess that added trauma was the straw that broke the camel’s back.

She closed down and during the next seven days she only ate one half of a three ounce can of food, refusing steak, chicken, baby food, and nine different flavors and textures of cat food, despite having an appetite stimulant applied to the inside of her ear each day.

She remained in my writing room, with the gate put back up and the cat pan reinstated in the corner.

She had another veterinary visit in the mix, but he found nothing medically wrong with her, although she had already lost a pound.  This is when one has to really start thinking outside of the box.

I overnighted an order of a Feliway Optimum pheromone plug in, played very soft music for her to listen to, and spent practically every moment of my time in my writing room with her, gently stroking and talking to her.

It was the eve of the seventh day as I laid in bed, that I heard her meowing for me.  Optimistically, I opened a can of her regular food and she ate half of it before calling it quits.  I was relieved. 

The next morning, she appeared anxiously at the gate, and ate three fourths of a can of her food.  There was no stopping her after that. 

Deciding to feed her smaller portions more times of the day to put her weight back on, she is doing just fine now.  In all of this mix, I had realized that I had been ignoring her way too often, and am currently working on strengthening the lovely bond between us. 

Only a person with a cat knows what I am talking about.  When a cat totally trusts one, it gives one that feeling we often attribute to loving us.  Whatever it is, it’s one of the best feelings in the world to me.

Lyre-leaf Sage sheltered admist the moss on the lee side of an old log.

Freeze damage to tips of Narcissus.  

Base of old gnarled Blackhaw Virburnum.

Planted when I started the garden.

Sheltered in the driftwood.

Tough daffodil with buds ready to open.

Mind you, this is still January.

Seed pods of Appalachian Mock Orange

The weather fluctuates between freezing then warm, then not so warm, then repeat, much like it always does this time of year in the middle of winter.  Rain is always plentiful, and I bite my lip to not utters these words “not again”; as rain once again caresses the ground in gentle drops, while a thunderstorm could be coming in just over the far horizon.

Without this weather, our spring would be a failure.  This abundance of water brings on the lushness that overruns our gardens in springtime when the moans of the weed picking blues might be heard over the buzz of plants new to the block greedily staking out their territory.

We have an appointment for a week of rain near this month’s end.

Not again.

Oops! 

Soaking up the sun on a chilly day.

This Post is Linked To:

My Corner of the World

Saturday's Critters