Thanksgiving began with a phone call to my friend Sue.
Me: Just a heads up I may need you later today, so keep your phone nearby. Sue: What’s up? Me: You’re my one phone call I’m allowed from jail. Oh, and don’t forget to remove the turkey from your oven before coming to bail me out. Sue: Okay, will do.
You may be able to deduce from this conversation that Sue knows me well enough to realize one of these days I’ll be arrested for helping animals, probably cats, and if that means doing something illegal in the process, so be it.
The weird thing is, it’s an actual cat. No surprise I guess, as I’m assuming the saying originated when someone astute recognized that kittens tend to copy their mothers. Hold on while I google that. Okay, I’m back. Turns out the earliest reference to copycat was in 1887 with no mention of felines. After that it gets too boring for words, so Iet’s move along.
My copycat happens to be my cat Tippi, so named because her tipped ear is severe. Seems ever since I adopted the ever-entertaining Jack a few months ago, Tippi’s personality has changed. And not, might I add, for the worse.
I trapped Tippi in a feral colony 2 1/2 years ago in the small farming and ranching community of Valley Ford. Tippi and her 21 assorted siblings were born under the grocery store. Thankfully, the store owners asked us (Marin Friends of Ferals) to have them spayed/neutered before she had 41 siblings. Long story short, I ended up keeping Tippi after realizing she was a tweener – not adoptable at the shelter yet not feral enough to be content living under the market.
So here we are 3 days after Thanksgiving and I’m not feeling even a tad bit sorry I essentially hibernated the whole day. Well, except to walk the dogs. Other than that, I had a glorious indoor day all to myself…unless you count my 9 pets and a feral foster kitten who hates me.
You see, with Covid-19, I opted to heed warnings about not congregating with anyone outside my immediate household. Hence, my menagerie and I had a pleasantly quiet Thanksgiving — sans my barking dogs alerting me to every person strolling by. And as it turns out, there were droves of strollers.
Although I wasn’t with family or friends this year, I actually enjoyed the day. Now don’t get me wrong; I’m not anti-social and I love the aforementioned dearly, but it was nice not to NEED to be somewhere or HAVE to do one single thing if I didn’t want to. And I didn’t want to. Thus, commenced a guilt-free day all to myself.
Often lately I feel like a rat obsessively running on a wheel, round and round until collapsing in exhaustion. I guess many of you can relate. Busy is my middle name and although I prefer to be, sometimes ya just gotta decompress, you know what I mean?
So I’ve been in my fall purging state lately. Now don’t get me wrong; I’m not bulimic. I enjoy food too much, as my thighs will attest. Here I go digressing again, something I’m rather adept at. That’s because I’m scatterbrained. I admit that and I own it. It’s who I am.
Hello. I’m Janet and I’m scatterbrained.
Anyway, back to purging. What I mean is I’m going through my garage and closets to rid myself of nonessential stuff I’ve accumulated over the years. That means I can discard pretty much everything I own. But instead I’m purging items I’m tired of in order to make room for more things I’ll tire of later. Continue reading →
I can’t believe I’m old enough to say this but back in the day, whenever I left the house, I didn’t have a cell phone in my purse. That’s because they weren’t invented yet. Unlike today, I was able to function just fine without staying connected every second of every day to every human being I know. If I needed to talk to someone, I waited until I got home to dial them from our rotary phone.
Yep, my family had a dial-up phone ages ago. Now don’t get me wrong; I wasn’t around in the day of switchboards like on the Andy Griffith Show where Andy has to ask switchboard operator, Sarah, to ring Aunt Bee for him. Please, I’m not THAT old!
Anyway, our phone was beige with a long coiled cord that stretched from the kitchen nook into the dining room, where we sat and gabbed. But for many years prior, the cord was only 2 feet long so we had to stand to talk. This was also the day of party lines. Know about those?