If you had your hand on my chest right now, yes it’d be inappropriate, but the point is, you’d feel my heart beating like I’d just seen a ghost. I’d love that, actually. Seeing a ghost, that is. But the reason my heart is on overdrive is because my 4 mutts were just attacked by another dog.
I almost talked myself out of taking Callie, Skip, Wally and Taffy for a stroll because, well, it’s called pure laziness. My days have been so packed lately that when I drag my weary bones home, the thought of moving from my cozy chair is not an inviting one.
Callie and Wally
Still, guilt won me over. How can I relax when 8 eyeballs are glued to my every move? I felt their stares even as I pretended to be asleep. But my unsympathetic mutts were having none of it. So I begrudgingly took them for a walk. Continue reading →
A couple weeks ago I divulged my innate ability to get lost (even with GPS). This week, why not tackle my skill at losing things? Things like my keys, my mind and my glasses. I thought I’d slip in the losing my mind reference without much notice, but seems you were paying attention.
My nickname in high school was Skippy because I was, well, a bit scattered and yes, forgetful. Still am. Friends even went so far as to choose that name as my personalized license plate. Motorists thought I loved peanut butter or had a passion for skipping. Little did they know. I’ve been know to forget having met someone. Unbelievable, huh? Sometimes I don’t recall places I’ve supposedly visited. I’ve even watched an entire movie then realized, as the credits rolled, that I’d seen it before. I’ve always been this way, which in a sense gives me comfort. Continue reading →
You don’t believe me, do you? You think because I’m a diminutive 63-year-old that I sit at home and knit every night, a cup of tea and a cookie on a table next to my easy chair. Oh how wrong you are.
First of all, I don’t particularly like tea. In fact, if I didn’t think it was healthy for me, I’d never drink it again. Secondly, I don’t knit. It’s not my cup-o-tea. (Wink, wink.) Thirdly, I’d never have just one cookie. Who can have just one? Seriously, I wouldn’t care to know that person.
Now don’t get me wrong. By “bad ass” I’m not saying Marin County police have memorized my name. In fact, my criminal life consists of two traffic violations. (Yawn.) One I blame on my friend Sharon when, at her urging, I drove straight in a right-turn-only lane. What can I say…we were running late. My other crime was speeding. Yes, I admit I have a lead foot.
Don’t hate me, but ever since COVID-19 took over our lives, I’ve been like someone on Adderall. Not that I know what that’s like. The strongest thing I take is an anti-inflammatory. I’ve never even smoked weed. I’ve used pot cream for my back though. Does that count? But I digress…my point is I’ve been busy and productive of late.
You should see my current To-Do list. Used to be as long as my arm and now it’s the length of my nose. Now don’t get me wrong; that’s still pretty long, if you’ve ever seen my nose. Little doubt I’ll again add to that list, but oh the satisfaction of crossing off stuff I’ve been staring at for months, if not years.
I now have newly painted door frames, stair risers and baseboards — no more chips from errant vacuuming. I can now park in my garage…I secured the backyard retaining wall vine…I removed the upstairs bathroom ceiling heating fan cover. Do you know I’ve been staring at 11 dead bees in that for months? Yes, I counted them. Makes me wonder what’s going on in my attic.
A couple Sunday’s ago you met my latest addition to my furry family. At that writing, this cross-eyed feline was called Trinity, the name Marin Humane gave her because she came from northern California. Since that day, her name has changed no less than 4 times. Hey, it’s not so easy naming someone you’re still getting to know.
For instance, when I decided to keep this semi-feral, I made a list of possible names with help from my friend Loretta. After all, she was spot-on naming Dash…entirely apropos for that madman. So for a couple days Trinity was Willow. But as I got to know her better, she wasn’t exactly graceful or willowy. This girl has a touch of crazy.
Then I called Trinity Sadie, although she didn’t look like a Sadie (whatever that looks like). That name soon became Chloe. But no matter how often I said it, it made absolutely no impression on her. In fact, I believe she ignored me even more than usual. Besides, Chloe is one of the top 10 names for female cats and she doesn’t strike me as a particularly trendy feline. So I went down my list of 12 names and said each one to her while looking for some sort of approval, maybe a look my way, a blink. Anything. But I got nothin’.