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Time-flies

Time flies. At least that’s what they say. And I think I believe them because I just realized it’s been 3 months since I had an idea I wanted to translate into a blog post. Can you believe that? Ninety days…twelve weeks…that’s 2160 hours, if my math is correct. But since I suck at math, I could be wrong.

Now don’t get me wrong, even though I just said I could be. I actually had plenty of ideas from early July until today. At least, I’m assuming I did. Who can remember? But I suppose after blogging once a week for 5 1/2 years, I needed a break. And who knows, maybe you did too. But life is getting busier and finding time to write late at night was about as likely to happen as me eating meat.

no-meat-picture

Therefore, if you are one of my roughly 100 devoted readers, you’ll notice I’ve been  reprinting posts mostly from 2013. I mean come on, I barely remember them so I’m guessing you didn’t either. And more importantly, you probably weren’t a reader of mine, as I only had about 30 back then. So for you, my old posts were brand new and for me they were a welcome respite. Continue reading

How I Conquered a Phobia

Originally posted in 2013

I think most people harbor a fear that borders on phobia. For me it’s snakes and small spaces. I understand why snakes give me the creeps, but small spaces? Maybe it’s the fear of suffocation or being trapped. Regardless, neither sound inviting to me.

I remember when we were kids, my brother put a pillow over my face as we played. I felt such terror that all rational thought left me; I screamed like I was dying. That feeling is still with me today whenever I feel confined. Continue reading

Along for the Ride, in Spirit

Susan in Mendocino

Today I was thinking about my late business partner, Susan, while I trapped feral cats on a 50 acre water buffalo farm where they produce mozzarella in rural Marin County. Talk about farm fresh. As you’ve probably guessed, it’s uniqueness is evident. I mean, seriously, it’s where the buffalo roam. (And, I’m guessing, where the deer and the antelope play.)

water buffalo3

water buffalo2

Anywhere rural is bound to have feral cats. Like being in one of those revolving doors at fancy hotels, they tend to come and go. But not before we ensure they stop having kittens. Still, that’s a tall order to fill when, if we miss 2 cats of the opposite sex, well, there ya go.

revolving door

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The Kitty Cat Caper

It’s 11:30 p.m. and I won’t be sleeping anytime soon. My adrenaline is surging like a spewing fire hydrant. That’s because I just got home from stealing 4 cats with Loretta, my partner in crime.

woman hiding

Loretta won’t let me take her photo so this will have to do

Now don’t get me wrong. I’m not normally a cat snatcher. I’m more a cat trapper…as in trapping feral cats for sterilization. Tonight, however, was different.

Marin Friends of Ferals has relocated over 500 un-adoptable cats to act as mousers that also receive daily food and water. Only 4 times we’ve had to retrieve them for inadequate care. (Read The Great Escape for another cat caper I chronicled.) Tonight’s snatch was equally exhilarating. Except last time we didn’t get caught. Continue reading

The Bitch is Back

As you may know if you’re a faithful reader of my blog, I became The Bitch at my tennis club a month or so ago. If this is news to you, check out my post, Don’t Mess With Me. Don’t worry, I’ll wait while you read it. tick tockOkay, all finished? Now that you’re all caught up, let’s proceed, shall we? Anyway, since my recent crowning, I’ve not had occasion to rinse and repeat. That is, not until last week.

Something I’ve learned during my years on earth is that there are double standards. When a woman stands up for herself, she’s a bitch. When a man does, he’s assertive. But now that I have a reputation of sorts, I’m branching out. I’m riding this bitch-thing like a surfer on a really rad wave. Is that the correct terminology? I’ve never surfed so I’m just guessing here.

Woman surfing in crest of wave

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