Call Me Sentimental

Where I live, our new normal seems to include fires that ravage hundreds if not thousands of acres and in the process destroy homes, businesses and many lives. Now don’t get me wrong; I realize this is no way to begin a humor blog but sometimes reality is brutal. We’re now accustomed to planned blackouts during high winds so downed power lines won’t start fires.

My good friends Sharon and Jim recently moved into their beautiful home in the hills of Santa Rosa but had to evacuate last month as fire quickly engulfed the rolling hills leading to their home. They only had time to grab some clothes, important documents and their laptops before fleeing from the approaching flames. (Thankfully, their home was saved.)

This got me thinking of what I’d take if I needed to get out of Dodge, so to speak. That’s a toughie. Naturally, my first grab and go would be my pets. The grabbing part, however, would be a bit difficult with my particular cats. I have 5 of them and just realized I’m short on carriers. Note to self: get more carriers.

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A Hustle and Bustle Holiday

Okay, so it’s Saturday night, New Year’s Eve, and yours truly has yet to write her blog post. I have a ton of excuses, most of which are legitimate. Now don’t get me wrong; I won’t burden you with them.

But, realizing time is running short in 2022 (in fact, it’s just 6 hours till 2023), I’m posting a recap of the holiday and its accompanying hustle and bustle. I suppose you know by now I won’t be out celebrating tonight. So here goes:

It always starts (except during the height of Covid) with my tree decorating party/dinner. This year there were 10 of us who gathered at my home to eat, drink and be merry while I had them decorate my tree. Clever, huh? And may I say they did an excellent job, as I only had to hang one ornament.

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A Wonderfully Selfish Day

Did you have a happy Thanksgiving? Personally, I had a selfish one and enjoyed every minute of it. Yes, I opted to spend Thanksgiving alone, if you don’t count my 10 pets. Now don’t get me wrong; I realize I sound uncaring saying that about a day when we gather to celebrate who and what we are most thankful for. And I passed. Shame on me, right?

I’m busy. You’re busy. Everyone’s busy. And for me to get a day where I don’t have to leave the house is essentially nonexistent. Pretty much daily I either trap feral cats, visit properties to re-home them, receive calls, texts and emails about them, or take them to and from the vet. Ferals, ferals, ferals…

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Witchy Women, Chapter 2

Last week was Sharon’s 2nd Annual Witches and Wine Halloween party. Truth be told, I’m not a big costume person but one doesn’t want to miss this gathering. Lots of old friends and potential new ones gather to eat and drink the night away; two of my favorite things.

So while Sue drove us to Santa Rosa, we attempted to put on our Halloween fingernails. In hindsight, probably not the best choice of where to do that, which I realized when I dropped one between the seats. Say bye bye. But luckily we had 24, no doubt meant for clumsy people like me.

Being my first endeavor with fake fingernails, I hadn’t noticed they came in different sizes. So I pressed on whatever I happened to grab. Not until they were stuck like glue did I realize my mistake. I then pried off half the nails, which was no easy feat. Those little suckers meant business.

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Down Memory Lane

Last week I had occasion to visit the neighborhood where I grew up in Santa Venetia, also derogatorily known as Scabo. I’m not sure what that stands for but since it’s an ugly word, I’m guessing it wasn’t known as the most desirable place to live. But I beg to differ.

Santa Venetia

Kids don’t know they don’t live in a mansion. I certainly didn’t. We had 4 bedrooms that weren’t much bigger than some large walk-in closets and closets not much wider than a refrigerator. Now don’t get me wrong; I didn’t care one bit. I had what I needed and that was enough.

our house

Our little house

To me, our Doughboy Pool was the bomb (better known as groovy back then). Other neighborhood dads helped my dad install it. That’s how it was; neighbors helping neighbors. On summer afternoons, being in that pool or playing ping pong on the patio were my favorite places to be.

me in pool

Even as a teen, still in the pool

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