Moonlight Write

I was restless in the wee hours so I decided it would be the perfect time for some night writing.  I stepped out into the darkness.  There is a certain quietness at night that I like to curl up with.  The night is solemn, it’s still and penetrating.  I can do much pondering at night. It is empty enough for me to feel the oneness of everything and I feel connected to it.  I walked down the long sidewalk and into the studio.

The usual suspects, Mario, Jacky and Sunny, were already on the scene.  Mario sat atop his perch on the desk, Sunny planted herself in the night garden and Jacky was sleeping in my chair.

I write in a converted garage that’s quite nice.  It has cherry paneling and two skylights.  It’s located at the south end of the garden under a tall pine tree.  It’s really more of an office but we call it the studio.  This is where all the magic begins. Ha Ha. Well, I like it.  It is the perfect place to write.

Jacky
The famous Mario

The cats think it is the perfect place to nap and Jacky has taken a liking to my chair.  We have to arm-wrestle for it daily and he usually wins.  He’s very muscular.  Mario likes to sit atop the desk. Sunny; she’s her own cat and wildly independent.  She likes to spend most of her nights in the cool air outside.

Sunny at night

Jacky is a recent addition to our family.  It can be difficult introducing a new pet to the household.  Adding to that the fact that Jacky is almost full-grown and a male.  Mario was the ruler of the roost before Jacky came and there has been some tense moments.  Mario feels a little put out and perhaps jealous, as well.  Jacky is trying to find his place.  I know he wants to fit in and as time goes on, he’s doing just that.

“The Boys” ( Mario and Jacky) have been spending time together and I can just tell that someday they’ll be the best of buddies.  Sunny on the other hand, still hisses at Jacky once in a while.  I hate to say this but Sunny can be a little testy.  We love her but she doesn’t have the best of temperaments.  M.M. has nicknamed her “The Rat Mole”,  A name that has stuck.  She also is known by Santino or Sunny two-tones because she is a Calico.

I have just come the strange realization that all three cats have gangster names.  Mario, Jacky and Santino. This may mean something, I will have to ponder this…

Just as I am pondering, I hear a sound of rustling in the bushes.  It is loud and I and the cats freeze.  The two boys and I slowly creep out of the studio to investigate.

We see them and they see us.  It takes me a minute before I realise that there are six of them.  They are raccoons and they are so cute.  I know they are wild but they seem so cuddly.  The closest raccoon looked at me right in the eyes.  It seemed to be asking me for something.  I began to speak to the raccoon in the soft sing-song voice I reserve for animals and babies.

The raccoon inched closer, I think I could have lured it in the house.  It seemed so tame. It seemed to be fascinated with me talking to it.  It inched even closer,  all of a sudden I get tense, I back up right into a potted plant. I let out a small sound of surprise and the raccoons scatter into the night.  I curse my clumsiness and gaze into the darkness.  It’s just as well.

I laugh as I think of the look M.M. would give me If I brought a raccoon into the house.  He already thinks I’m crazy, but it just might be a lunatic he’s looking for.

Hoping you find what you’re looking for….Strawberryindigo.

Retro Revert

Ms. Pac Man on Crack
Image by boboroshi via Flickr

The other day I went and tripped around downtown with my teenage son.  He’s 16 and I don’t know how much longer he’ll want to be seen with me, so I take advantage of these situations.

I led the way as I showed him where all “the cool shops” were.  There was just one thing about that; all “the cool shops” I once went to were all gone..they existed twenty years in the past. I felt stupid and old at that point.

If that wasn’t enough; my famously poor sense of direction got us lost.  We started wandering into uncharted territory.  It was a park filled with young “business” people who were selling their “wares” all across the length of the park., it was obvious what was going on.  I was glad that my “Suburban Mom” look deterred them from asking us if we wanted to “score” something from them.

As any good parent would do, I used the situation to preach against drug use.  It was then we found a Starbucks!  After having some caffeine and a realisation that I can be a hypocrite,  we pressed on…

It was starting to get hot and technically we were still lost.  My son is a great guy, I would have to say that because he is my son, but he is  truly a one-of-a-kind special person.  I wish I could take credit for this.  In reality, I got lucky with him. I’m not just bragging him up for nothing.  He has tremendous patience with his sometimes scatter-brained mom….

Now here we are, it’s getting hotter by the second.  My son wants me to ask for directions, I refuse; stating over and over; “I have a good feeling about this, let’s go that way.”  We go on and I’m starting to really feel the heat, all I had to eat was coffee all day and now its starting to take its toll…

I feel like a bad mother, dragging him around like this.  I am sweating and I think I’m about to pass out when I see it.

What is “it”?  you ask.  A glittering oasis in the desert; An old school retro arcade! Yeah!  This town rocks sometimes!  It doesn’t take much to revert me back to kid again and this was no exception.  It reminded me of the old days.  Inside it was dark, hot and packed and I felt eleven all over again.

The change machine was broken but we found a few quarters. This is exciting to someone like me and my son could see it in my eyes, they practically pulsated as they darted from one game to another.  We pass Frogger, Mr. and Ms. Pac- Man, We skirt the pinball machines and pass centipede and right over to the Mortal Kombat! Yes!

Now I will proceed to kick some @$$.. I won the first match. HA!  My yellow guy beat his blue guy!  I can see my son is surprised and a little impressed.  That is almost impossible; A 16-year-old boy being impressed with his mom… watch out son…

Next round, he kills me, blood everywhere.  What a mess.  Next round, more killing.. I am dead, well, yellow guy is dead.  I am looking for more quarters…

My son, being 16, is looking for the lunch I promised.  I vow a re-match and we go and get some bad Chinese food at the mall.. and that is another story…What a great day!

  Strawberryindigo.

Wishing you a great day!

                                                      

Techno Crazy

Our computers
Image by aranarth via Flickr

Dear Computer:  I hate you!  You have screwed with me all day and I’m not going to take anymore!  I am not in the least bit technical and frankly, I don’t want to be.. I don’t understand machines, they are foreign to me.  This is not the best thing in this techno crazy world and believe me, I try…but sometimes I think I’m cursed.  Today I really think I was cursed.

My computer started acting up from the get go this morning.  I was in a fine writing mood and that was changed by my ignorance of technology and my computer being the spawn of the devil.  Seriously, I am ashamed to say that my computer is an ancient relic that’s 10 years old!…gasp.  I think its tired of me and I am tired of it.

After suffering an anxiety attack for a few minutes, I decided that action was necessary and M.M. and I took ourselves down the road in search of a new computer.

Initially we went to the land of cheap goods and cheap labor where the poor can shop for entertainment, or as I call it: Wal-Mart.  It should have occurred to me as we walked in the door and smelled onions that maybe this wasn’t the place to get electronics, but hey, I’m ignorant in such matters plus I needed to get some cheap socks.

We found a cheap laptop, then we found another and decided what the hell, let’s get two.  We are like that, M.M. and I.  Together we create a third personality that’s three times as nutty as one of us alone.  Fortunately this third person has stellar credit so we had no problem with cash flow.  No, it was Wal-Mart, Their machine was down, couldn’t process the credit application.  We tried four times and left in disgust.

 I did get the socks and some free milk duds they gave us as I consolation prize, I don’t like milk duds, they’ll suck out your fillings if you’re not careful.

We drove down one the ugliest streets in town, saw a dead man on the sidewalk (I’m not kidding)  The cops were there and I saw him, his face, the guy looked dead, I mean its something that you just know when you see it.  It’s also an image I won’t forget….And so I tried to…And then

The two gang members on the corner who started to yell on us helped me forget the poor dead man.  They didn’t like the way M.M. was driving and expressed themselves rather loudly.  We turned and I flipped them the bird…And then the sun broke through the clouds…We made it.

We made it to an office type store full of bright shiny colorful office stuff or as I call it: Office Depot. We went straight to the laptops, determined as ever.  We found two cute white ones, They’re twins! We had to bring them home right away. We signed the adoption papers with no problem, the paperwork sailed right through and before we knew it, we were back home with two shiny new laptops.  Wow!  I should have been excited but somehow our victory tasted bittersweet.

If I learned anything from my “adventure” today, maybe it was that in this country, the key to happiness is the availability of cheap goods and excellent credit.  Or really, if I think down deep with my heart maybe I’ll realise that all of that “happiness” really doesn’t mean a damn when you are dead old man alone and unloved by the side of the road.

Good night

 Strawberryindigo.

A Very Rich Man, Indeed.

Warren Buffett speaking to a group of students...
Image via Wikipedia

Aesop once said the worth of money is not in its possession, but in its use.  I can think of no one person who exemplifies that idea more than Warren Buffett.  Some call him “The Oracle from Omaha.”, I call him inspiring.

Mr. Buffett has been in the news of late due to his company Berkshire Hathaway‘s $5 billion dollar investment in the troubled Bank of America and also Buffett’s recent piece in the New York Times.  In the piece he asks Congress to raise tax rates on him and his rich buddies.  What a piece of work this man is.

I had already thought the world of Mr. Buffett before his recent actions, not only for his investment and business prowess, his uncommon common sense and his personality, (Hey,the guy’s cool to me)  all of which I have to say that I admire greatly.

It is his record of philanthropy that I admire the most.  It is the reason why he is one of my heroes.  His pledge to donate almost his entire fortune to the good of others and his devotion to get billionaires like him to do the same is simply put; inspiring.

It is that attitude that can inspire us all, rich, poor and in between to give some of ourselves to help others.  It doesn’t have to be money, although that would help.  It could be your time, the most valuable thing of all.  It could be your expertise, or advice. Maybe it could be a kind word to a stranger who really needs it at the time.

This is what real magic is made of.  Love and care for our fellow human beings.  It gets around and believe me it comes back to you triple fold. It’s up to everyone to see how they can help.  We all have our individual talents and ways of contributing. I am not a financial titan like Warren Buffett, but my dream is to help in some way through my writing.

We as a country, actually we as a planet are facing unprecedented social,economic and environmental turmoil and this divided attitude we humans possess could spell much trouble down the road.  We can all do our part.

Thanks for listening,

Strawberryindigo.

Blue eyed Handsome Cat 2

Now for epic conclusion to Blue eyed Handsome Cat..

Jacky was counting on me, I couldn’t let him down.   I couldn’t just sit there and allow these crazy people to take Jacky.  I didn’t want to start a neighborhood war over this, especially from the loud crazy neighbors with the totally ironic last name.  Over the years these neighbors had created quite the reputation for themselves. (THAT is quite another story I must share with you in the future).  Lets say for now that I feared for Jacky’s well-being.

I considered keeping Jacky in the house forever but I knew that wasn’t the way.  Jacky’s a free spirit and locking him up would be impractical and frankly, I think a bit cruel. Jacky mewed at the door, I let him out.  I hoped he would return.

M.M, seeing how bothered I was, went over to the ironically named neighbors and spoke the most level-headed one.  We call her Marilyn after Marilyn Munster. (From the old T.V show)  She seems so normal but I know better.  No one could be normal and live there. Well, M.M. is a diplomat to say the least… he found out that Sally was the only one who wanted the cat.  Marilyn, her mother and the matriarch of the family, did not.  She said; “Have the cat, we don’t want it.”

I was ecstatic at the news, it was so much easier than I thought….or so I thought.

Jacky didn’t return.  Five days passed.  I asked around the neighborhood, Marilyn had not seen Jacky, no one had.  I feared that Jacky’s friendly and trusting nature had gotten him into trouble. I looked and looked for him, to no avail.  I  wished that I hadn’t let myself get so attached so fast.  I kept up appearances though.  I told my family that Jacky was fine and that he was having an adventure somewhere and he would be back any day.

I had a bad feeling, I was convinced that I’d never see that white cat again.  I looked out the window, as I had been doing a lot of lately, this time I didn’t expect to see him, I was giving up hope and then there he was.. he was in the street, he looked confused and out of it.  He was sniffing the ground like animals do when lost.  I could tell from a lifetime of experience with cats that he had been in a car and had just been deposited there in the street.

He saw me and ran to the front door, I let him in.  A flurry of meows escaped his little cat mouth.  He was a bit skinnier and he looked dirty but there he was in all his cat glory.  He also was sporting a cheap plastic collar with gaudy glitter all over it, attached was a metal tag:  Hastily scratched into the metal was the word Lucky, underneath was an address..The address was  familiar.. very familiar.

I knew right away what had happened.  I thought back and remembered that I had not seen Sally or her old green van for a while, about the same length of time I hadn’t seen Jacky…

Sally.. of course it was her, she had taken poor Jacky somewhere in her stupid van, And stupid me had believed them.  I am so naive sometimes. The problem remained, We both wanted Jacky.  I believed that I should have him since  he would be so much happier at my house… I also thought that Jacky agreed…he did somewhat.

Jacky also had built quite the reputation in the neighborhood: He was a friendly sort. The cute little girls next door called him snowball, the blonde teenager across the street called him princess.  The people around the block knew him as buttercup and I suppose Sally had named him Lucky.  Everyone thought he was a girl cat, I guess because he is so pretty, they just assumed.  I know enough to look…and what to look for…..enough said on that.

I took off the collar and the metal tag and put them on the mantle, that wasn’t the best idea, looking back on it… Sometimes I get so bull-headed thinking I ‘m right when sometimes….

Jacky had eaten his fill and slept for a couple of days and he was ready to go out.  I let him out the back door and into the garden.  He like all the other cats in the area, instantly fell in love with the place. It’s a cat’s paradise back there… he explored and then found a nice cool spot in the back..behind a tall fern.  He settled in for a nap.   Jacky stuck around for a couple more days, hanging out in the garden, sleeping and hunting moths under the back porch light.

Jacky's off on another adventure.

And then, he was gone. He went out the side gate. I was sure he would come back, He’s so happy here, I thought, he even grins at me when I pet him.  I walked through the side myself, past the multitudes of potted plants in a long long driveway,  I could see a shock of white, running..”Here we go again.”  I said out loud to myself… this time though, it was different.  Instead of Jacky, my Jacky, running toward me.. he was running over to HER?!

This cannot be. What is going on?  Why is he going over to her? I was to say the very least, flabbergasted, I was beside myself.  Then when I saw the boy, the little boy, the crazy neighbor’s kid and I guess, Sally’s son, he was calling the cat and running around.  Sally was beside him and she was actually smiling… Jacky went up to them and started rolling around on the ground, in that adorable way he does.  She, Sally, the one I had watched for years, go into red-faced rages and screaming fits in the street at night, this Sally who let her kids run wild and swore like a sailor.  She stroked his white fur with a gentleness I had never seen in her before.

The boy ran around and then in an instant, Jacky was up on his feet and running.. with the boy, back and forth across the tall weeds that make up their front yard.  The boy was laughing and so was Sally.  Jacky, I think he was smiling too.

I learned much that day.  About Sally, about boys and cats.  I learned the most about me….

 Some time has passed and Sally and I and of course Jacky have made some compromises.  The gaudy collar stays on but the tag stays off.  Jacky goes wherever Jacky wants to go.  Which has turned out to be nights with her, days with me.

Everyone seems a little happier since Jacky’s arrival, now that the dust has settled and I am just beginning to learn about Jacky.  He is a special one.  He has been going on walks with me as of late, he follows me like a dog.  Trotting along, never minding the noises of humans, their machines or their dogs. He is quite the brave traveler.   We’ve been gaining some notice around the neighborhood for our walks, maybe I’m creating a bit of a reputation myself.

Strawberryindigo.

Off we go!

Blue eyed handsome cat

Have you ever met someone who just appeared in your life, as if out of thin air and acted like they knew you forever.  It’s like they we’re just sort of deposited on your front porch and poof…They’d always been there?  Well, with Jacky it’s like that.  I guess I should let you know that Jacky is a cat.  A remarkable cat, that’s for sure.

We first met him on the third of July.  He impressed me by his friendliness, he seemed to really like us.  He made M.M. his first acquaintance, which is not surprising. what was so surprising was his intensity.  At that time, we of course did not have a name for him, or even knew he was an him.  Let’s call him “that cat” for now.

I will give him this; he is an attractive animal, that cat.  He is white with  honey cream-colored markings on this head and tail.  His bright azure eyes truly are striking.  He makes quite the picture.

We had just returned from a much-needed vacation.  We were away for five days. He must have appeared on the scene during that time.  It was late afternoon and my nerves were on edge.  Sudden booms, it’s like World War Three around there on the third of July. I needed a distraction…and there he was, a shock of white, running across the street away from the crazy neighbors screeching kid.  He looked scared out of his wits.  I knew I must help him.

I enlisted the help of M.M..  We braved the artillery together (How sweet)  M.M. sang out “Here, Kitty, Kitty…”  The cat looked at him and ran to him for dear life, not even slowing a bit to look behind him.  M.M. scooped him up like it was nothing and the cat instantly relaxed.  We took him inside.

Luckily, It being the day it was.  Our two cats who off hiding in the bushes nowhere to be found.  And except for the old pug, there was no other animal around to make the cat feel unwelcome.

It's nap time

The humans adored him instantly.  My daughter, who is thirteen and a devout cat lover, squealed in delight.  My son, who’s a bit older, was a little cooler about the cats appearance, but  I could tell he was intrigued. I being who I am, knew that the cat was new in the neighborhood.  We asked around and one of our saner neighbors told us the cat had been hanging around for days,  everyone had a name for her, (He thought the cat was a her)  but no one wanted her.  His own kids wanted the cat but he was allergic, he suggested I keep her.  Knowing what a sucker I am for cats.

We fed him friskies and he was ours.

He slept for days, waking only to eat and drink water out of the bathroom tap.  I guess he’s one of those, I’d seen cats like that before.  I had one once that was fascinated by water, couldn’t get enough of it…it was the first of his many quirks that time would reveal.  The days passed without a lot going on.  My crazy neighbors were out-of-town and a calm descended over the ‘hood.

The four of us deliberated during that time and my son came up with Jack Daniels, yes he did…  To me, he looked like a Jacky.  We settled on Jacky, Daniels being his official last name, told to those on a need to know basis.(aka his friends at school.)

Our two cats were suspicious to say the least.  Mario didn’t know what was going on.  I know he felt bad.  He just sulked for days, sleeping under the desk in the office.  Poor Mario.  Sunny, or as she is known; Santino, kept her cool and out-of-the-way.

Everything started to return to normal. Mario perked up and Santino stayed herself. The crazy neighbors had returned, I could hear them screaming, as I said, everything was returning to normal.  Except for one thing.  I could hear a voice… it was….”Here Kitty Kitty, Here Lucky”  Who’s Lucky?  I thought and dismissed it from my mind.

Jacky stayed out all night, we didn’t see him all morning and then…the screetching, the kids.. it’s all happening again… And there’s Jacky, a shock of white running away from the crazy neighbor’s kid and right toward me.  I scooped him up and stroked his fur.  He was freaked out, poor thing and he was hungry, he ate, drank the water from the leaky tap and settled in to sleep.

This might become a problem, I thought… I was right.

The next morning while I was watering my roses, the crazy neighbor’s much older kid, let’s call her Sally, comes up to me and asks me if I’ve been feeding that white cat.  I reply without beating an eyelash, “You mean the cat we adopted?”  She looked as stern as you can be and I must admit, I was a bit scared.  She’s a bigger girl than I am.  Plus I’m a big chicken.  This did not show though, I’m good at that.  I didn’t know what happened to her. (her again)  She breaks out in a fragment of a sentence.  I return a fragment myself..

It was one word.  Turmoil.  “What”?  She asks, confused.  I yell, “Turmoil!!  And walk away.. this could get ugly.  I start to regret taking the cat in and then I think…He is counting on me to save him from them.   I must help him.  The cute little guy with his charming debonair smile.  I can’t let him down….

Stay tuned for the conclusion….

next time

next cat channel.

Strawberryindigo.

Scary Birds

Scary Birds

Here I am in this cage with these birds, these colorful winged monsters flying around and over my head, chirping with their angry little greedy beaks.  One particularly aggressive bird swoops down and steals a tiny white cup of nectar of a chubby fisted toddler, who starts to cry.  I become even more nervous…

I am at the zoo with my daughter, I did my best at hiding my horror when she mentioned wanting to visit the lorikeet’s.  She called them cute little birds, I call them flying demons from hell.  Not wanting to disappoint her and most importantly, not to look like a big chicken in front of my kid, I agreed and came here of my own free will.  I even shelled out a dollar for a cup of nectar.

Once inside the cage, I told myself lies to calm myself.  Lies that rationalized the whole thing.  Why would the zoo people put us in danger?  I look around, lots of families and children.  Everyone else seems O.K. with it.

After all I am an animal lover… And then the carnage begins.

Did I mention the sounds these birds make?  Horrible screeching, their noise echoes throughout the enclosure.  I am going into sensory overload which brings on a panic attack.  My heart races, I start to sweat and all of a sudden, I feel dizzy and sick.  I look around, everyone is having fun, no one notices my white knuckled fear.  It is all I can do to keep up appearances as a calm rational adult human being.  It soon becomes too much as a have to duck incoming artillery.  I don’t want to be stuck walking around with bird shit on my head.

As I said , I am an animal lover.  I have pets. I talk to squirrels and raccoons.  I have even contributed to Greenpeace.  But honestly, this is too much…I have to get out…Right now…

So we leave the nest of the wretched and to my amazement, my daughter never noticed how scared I was in that cage with those scary birds, a big chicken like me.  I smile.

We proceed to the polar bears.  One of my favorites, They seem so soft and cuddily…they would probably maul me if I tried to hug one though.  I know I must keep my affections at a save distance and I admire their awesome strength and grace.

Come on in, the water's fine.

As the day goes on and we see more and more of what the zoo has to offer, the hellish images of what transpired earlier have vanished from my mind. 

We see the silly penguins march around and watch the playful otters swim to and fro. The tall giraffes seem so lofty and majestic, the elephants look like wrinkled old wise men and the big cats nap in the afternoon sun.  Except one, she paces.

What a striking animal.  Full of beauty and grace but also full of raw animal power.  Watch out!

We visit the apes and the monkey’s too.  I look for my wee buddy, the Pygmy Marmoset, he is nowhere to be found.  And where are the Sun Bears and the Tigers and the Black Rhino?

“They are all sleeping” volunteers the zoo keeper, who amazingly can hear my thoughts.  Sounds like a good idea,  A nice relaxing late afternoon nap.  I could use that after this long but fruitful day.

sunset stripe
A beautiful end to a long day

 Strawberryindigo.

Carnivore Quest

The best burger is a work of art.  Each ingredient plays a part like finely tuned instruments in an epicurean symphony of delight.  I mention this because I am on the hunt for the best burger in my city.   I live in a place with the reputation of being a foodie town.  I don’t know if I agree, you can’t truly be foodie without the best burger.

I have been on this search for years now, if I told you how many years, you’d be shocked, so I won’t.  I will say that during my search I have found only two burgers that could stand up to my ridiculously strict standards.  That was quite some time ago…you know the timing must be perfect, so many factors come in to play and the timing is just as important as anything else.  Time is a river.   We can’t go back.   If I could travel in time, I would visit restaurants I enjoyed in the past and just pig out to my stomach’s delight.  Time seems to be slip, slip, slipping into the future, and I am getting hungry.

Before we make our way to the next contestant, I need to explain my system; I rate burgers on a scale from one to ten.  One being very low, ten being perfect. everything comes into play, and everything must be just right. To me, the best burger consists of the following:

A sesame seed bun  Toasted, the crispy circle of toasty goodness encircling the outer edges.

Mayo  White and nice and essential, also some sort of secret sauce is a major added plus.

Relish  The Dill or Hamburger variety, I can swing both ways on that.

Pickles  I know that seems redundant considering the relish factor, however, those green happy little buddies are needed.

Lettuce  Must be iceberg, crisp, fresh and shredded.

Cheese   Very sharp, it will almost cut you.

….and of course, you are expecting the burger patty itself.  Before I get to the burger patty, I need to mention the importance of the grill.  A good seasoned grill is a must.  I cannot stress this enough.

The Beef  what would a burger be without the meat?  I don’t want to offend veggies and vegans, but this isn’t called Carnivore Quest for nothing.  The beef should be high quality with lots of fat, 20%.  Juicy and tasty, and cooked to perfection.

space cat eating burger funny
Mario my famous cat loves Cheeseburgers!

All the ingredients should fit together nicely and all the flavors should combine just so.  Upon taking a bite tiny droplets of sweet grease should dribble daintily back on the plate.  Pair this with some hot salty fries and I’m starving….

It wouldn’t be a quest if I just simply walked to my neighborhood burger joint, I’ve tried those, so I tried a new part of town.  An interesting part of town, you might say.  The restaurant is a 24 hour diner type place.  We are seated next to a picture window facing a busy city street.  “This is a great place to people watch,” mentions the  waitress as she takes our order.

I can see why as I spy a man with a cat.  A long slinky black cat on a leash.  The man, a deadlocked fellow with obviously lots of time on his hands, was pacing at the bus stop .  The cat, his constant companion, paced with him.  It was a tender scene, the cat adored him and he returned the cat’s affections.

My attention was turned to the Asian woman in blue plastic flip flops and a strained look on her face.  She is pushing a shopping cart full of bottle and cans and almost loses her top bundle as she passes a gesturing buffoon in orange.  He dances a jaunty wee dance as he gestures wildly to a man who resembles M.M.’s brother.  Orange man is full of story and enthusiasm and then just as abruptly as he came…poof.. he leaves, running across the street and into traffic waving his arms like he’s flying.

The sign flyer regards the scene cooly and I just laugh.  The man in orange seemed to be having a good time.  He is gone now and I am left with my cheeseburger, which received a 6.5 by the way.  Orange man, I gave him a 10.

And so it goes on National Cheeseburger Day…

Dream a little dream

..And so I am supposed to be writing short stories, Trippy profound little gems with twists and turns that would set the world on fire.   I given myself the summer to write these stories. I’ve written one story so far.  

I will confess right now that I am a chronic starter.  I have a million interests and I’ve started a million projects and rarely finished any.  All those tiny pieces of paper  come to mind….

I haven’t accomplished much in life by way of a career.  I’ve devoted seventeen years of my life to raising two kids, who will be almost grown and now I feel that its time for me to pursue my dreams.  All of them.

This scares the hell out of me.  I know to follow a dream one must take a chance and get out into the world.  I have to stop hiding. And so here I am jumping in.  Out of the shadows and into the light. 

I thought very long and hard about showing my picture on this blog.  It is so unlike me, its unreal.  That picture in itself is rare.  I’m the kind of person who prefers to be behind the camera, not in front. 

  To be honest to myself and whoever might read this, I can’t say that I need to stop hiding from life, and hide behind something I am not.  It might be a stupid thing to do. I might regret it.  I don’t know.  But for now the picture of the real me remains for all the poor unfortunates to see who happen to run across it.

My little part of the sky

My little part of the sky

A lifetime is made up of moments and there are only so many.  Within these seemingly endless stream of moments, there are special ones.  Ones that force us to make a snap decisions, Ones that define us.  These are the moments that make us who we are.

I have many such moments stored up in my 41 years of memory.  It surprises me how many of them were small things, moments that on the surface appeared insignificant.  In circumspect I can see how one thing leads to another…and another… and another…

My fault lies not with one decision per se, but my inability to make any decision at all.  I’ve been letting fate decide my whole life.

Sometimes life comes at you like a runaway train and forces your hand rather abruptly.  Other times, more often than not, fate sprouts silently.  It comes to you at night in a whisper that you can’t quite hear.  Every night it gets louder and louder,a little at first, but then…

It gets louder and loUDER AND LOUDER.!

UNTILL IT IS SCREAMING AT YOU!!!

Do you listen?

I have decided to listen. To that voice screaming at me to do something.  This  thing I must do takes courage.

I must come out of the shadows. come out into the light and share my little part of the sky.