Rambling
This has been a busy week. I'm so worn out I'm not sure I even remember my name. (Honestly, I have forgotten it a couple of times in the last few months. My sister swears it isn't the beginning of Alzheimer's; I choose to believe her because she's smarter than me about things like that.) Right now, it's a sunny Sunday morning and I'm looking out my sliding glass doors to the backyard. I don't have any trees in my yard, but both my neighbors have trees which have limbs that reach over my yard, almost touching, creating an embrace of nature. Beyond those side trees is a six-foot wood fence at the end of the downward sloping yard, but you can't see it anymore because of the trees and tall bushes that reach into my yard from the preserve beyond the fence. It's like living in wilderness (almost - I can hear the roar of a passenger jet overhead because I'm in the flight path for Tampa International Airport.) I love all the greenery and the wild animals that visit me, finding their way through the unseen hole in the fence. The possums, the raccoons, the occasional not-my cat -- and let's not forget the birds, the squirrels, and the butterflies. For whatever reason, the butterflies gather together and flit here and there in the tree/bush limbs arching over the back fence. There are no flowers there, so I'm not sure why they congregate in that greenery, but it sure is a lovely sight to behold. I've saved (well, at least I think I did) a few butterflies that decided to take a rest on the concrete patio beyond the sliding glass doors. Not a good thing when there are cats about. So, I gently move them, usually to the front yard by my door where I have many potted plants. I place the butterfly on a flower limb and hope for the best.
The other day my cat Tula caught a frog, its little legs dangling from her mouth. Unlike other cats I've had, she let the frog go when I came outside and so I rescued it and put it in the front yard in a little flower (and too often, weed) garden I created. Later on, I checked on it and it was gone, hopefully to a safe place away from Tula. She also caught a black snake, which she let go when I came outside to rescue it. I brought her inside and, unlike other cats I've had, she didn't whine and fuss to go back outside. And when I did let her back outside, she didn't go hunting for the "lost" snake. Interesting little hunter.
I don't know what I'm going to do today because I'm too tired to do anything constructive like take a walk or go to Target for things I sorely need or clean the house or do laundry. Yesterday I ran up and down stairs at work, stood for practically the whole day, lifted heavy stuff (for me, anyway), took photographs on three different floors, set up food for the event the library was presenting, did cleanup and moving things back to where they were in the room our department was using, talked to many people, etc. I feel like I climbed a mountain without any preparation. Oh, to be young again . . . .
It's quiet right now. All I can hear is the table fan whirring back and forth. I love quiet and trees and sun and the color of flowers and cool (not cold) weather. Soon it will be cool enough to go walking in the parks around here. I love to bundle up in a hoodie and walk in the cool weather. I used to do that with my dog Kodiak. It would be night and cold (for Florida) and I would put on a sweater and a hoodie and Kodiak and I would go for a night walk and it would be so quiet (highly unusual for the badass neighborhood we lived in at the time) and it would just be him and me and I would glance at the lighted windows in homes we passed and it felt so alone yet connected at the same time. There could be such beauty in that ugly, mean, dirty neighborhood. There's the saying about the fact you are where you are supposed to be. But the truth of it is you are where you are because of the choices you made. It's called free will, and some of us are better at making choices based on our authentic selves, and some of us aren't.
I have to go. My cat Blackjack is staring at me on the opposite side of the sliding glass doors. Let me in, Ma, or face the consequences. Meowwwwww . . . .
The other day my cat Tula caught a frog, its little legs dangling from her mouth. Unlike other cats I've had, she let the frog go when I came outside and so I rescued it and put it in the front yard in a little flower (and too often, weed) garden I created. Later on, I checked on it and it was gone, hopefully to a safe place away from Tula. She also caught a black snake, which she let go when I came outside to rescue it. I brought her inside and, unlike other cats I've had, she didn't whine and fuss to go back outside. And when I did let her back outside, she didn't go hunting for the "lost" snake. Interesting little hunter.
I don't know what I'm going to do today because I'm too tired to do anything constructive like take a walk or go to Target for things I sorely need or clean the house or do laundry. Yesterday I ran up and down stairs at work, stood for practically the whole day, lifted heavy stuff (for me, anyway), took photographs on three different floors, set up food for the event the library was presenting, did cleanup and moving things back to where they were in the room our department was using, talked to many people, etc. I feel like I climbed a mountain without any preparation. Oh, to be young again . . . .
It's quiet right now. All I can hear is the table fan whirring back and forth. I love quiet and trees and sun and the color of flowers and cool (not cold) weather. Soon it will be cool enough to go walking in the parks around here. I love to bundle up in a hoodie and walk in the cool weather. I used to do that with my dog Kodiak. It would be night and cold (for Florida) and I would put on a sweater and a hoodie and Kodiak and I would go for a night walk and it would be so quiet (highly unusual for the badass neighborhood we lived in at the time) and it would just be him and me and I would glance at the lighted windows in homes we passed and it felt so alone yet connected at the same time. There could be such beauty in that ugly, mean, dirty neighborhood. There's the saying about the fact you are where you are supposed to be. But the truth of it is you are where you are because of the choices you made. It's called free will, and some of us are better at making choices based on our authentic selves, and some of us aren't.
I have to go. My cat Blackjack is staring at me on the opposite side of the sliding glass doors. Let me in, Ma, or face the consequences. Meowwwwww . . . .
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