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.

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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…

A Brilliant Man

 

I have made it no secret that one of my greatest all time heroes is the one and only Albert Einstein.   Of course he was a genius, a cultural icon and brilliant visionary.  I could go on and on all day about the true greatness of him.   I’m sure many people would agree that he is one of the greatest minds of our time.  And sure he was cute, THAT, one cannot deny but that is not why he holds a certain fascination for me.

It is his views on God and Religion. 

Years ago I read a book that Mr. Einstein wrote.  It was a thin paperback , I forget the name.  What I do remember is that for the first time in my life I found myself agreeing with someone’s take on God and religion.  Since this opinion about religion was formed by someone considered so very smart.  I felt instantly gratified at not being so alone in my beliefs…and what company.  What I read that day inspired me.  THAT man inspired me too and from then on I have been on a quest of sorts for truths, whatever they, wherever they are, however they are.

****Albert Einstein, A brilliant man.

Content edited due to my unprofessional stupidity. Sorry.

 

Thanks for your help on this. You know who you are.

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.

little pieces of paper

 

   

 

 

  Tiny pieces of paper, probably tens of thousands of them, haunt my memory.  Some haunt boxes in the basement, others are in a file beside the bed or scattered all over the house, most are lost with the passage of time.  Every one of them are mine.  Pieces of paper, some are typewritten, most are not.  Most are written with a frenzied scrawl only I can read,  somewhat.

     They are my ideas, my stories, my hopes, dreams and crazy creative musings. I have been writing them down since my weak little grip barely gripped a pencil at age four. 

     No matter what life through at me and no matter how life changed and I changed.  One constant remained. I wrote. 

I wrote as my heart was breaking and  I wrote as my soul was soaring.  Writing was my release.  I could tell everything to those blank pages.  Everything I couldn’t tell others. 

And time passes, and I realise that it gets cold and lonely and dark in the shadows. I can’t keep hiding and scribbling on bits of paper. 

 

 

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.