Creatures of Habit

habit quote

We’re all creatures of habit, don’t you think?

Now don’t get me wrong; I’m sure some unique souls out there don’t have routines, but I don’t know of any. Do you? I do, however, know myself and my animals. I can predict what they’ll do even before they do it because, well, it’s habit.

I’m no exception with routines. For instance, in the shower I first wash my hair, then my body. Wouldn’t occur to me to do it in reverse. Without fail, I put on my left sock before my right. I floss my upper teeth before my lower. It’s a habit for me to forget my bags when I grocery shop. Every. Single. Time.

shopping bags

Forgotten in the door of my car

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One for the Memory Chest

I received a call last week from Chris who has over 70 acres in the hills 10 miles from me. He and his wife are interested in getting feral cats as mousers for this, their second home with an upstart vineyard, enormous house, big red barn, a flourishing garden, a pool and pool house. In a word: the place is a dream. Yes, I’m aware that’s five words. But come on, it’s too incredible to warrant just one.

vineyard

Anyway, the vineyard is isolated almost 3 miles off the main road, winding along seemingly endless pastureland. It was then that it occurred to me this could be a setup. I hadn’t told anyone where I was going and who knows what awaited at the end of that gravel road?

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Eight is Enough

So I’m at Berkeley Humane Society a couple weeks ago picking up cat food they donated to my nonprofit when a little black dog, happy as all get-out, walked by and immediately caught my eye; he’s the type of dog I’ve been looking for. Not that I need another dog. I should think 3 is enough. And it is. But
Berkeley humane
My Greyhound is over 11 now and being that she’s not in the greatest health, I thought I’d keep my eyes open for a small dog to add to my animal family since Nellie may not be with us much longer. I’m a firm believer in things are meant to be and that day was no exception.
Nellie at park

Nellie in her prime

I ask you, what are the odds I’d be at the Berkeley Humane Society that day (where I’d never been) and their volunteer was walking a Dachshund-mix (exactly the dog I had in mind) by my car at the exact moment I drove up? Now don’t get me wrong; I didn’t jump out and adopt him right then, if that’s what your thinking. I’m not THAT impulsive.

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Why I’ll Never Remarry: I Don’t Have the Closet Space

So one morning last week I’m rifling through my closet for a shirt. Rifling is probably not the correct lingo since my closets are fuller than Kylie Jenner’s lips. This fact sorta inhibits my ability to see all the clothing I own, making it extremely convenient to forget what’s hiding in my closet.

Kylie Jenner

Kylie

What I’m trying to say here is I have a LOT of clothes. An awful lot. Apparently I tend to buy things but don’t often get rid of those things, even years later. Now don’t get me wrong. I’m not a hoarder if that’s what you’re thinking. Not that there’s anything wrong with that. But clutter makes me anxious unless it’s out of sight. So closets are perfect places to be a closeted hoarder, so to speak.

The problem is, I don’t like 90% of my clothing. I have absolutely no fashion sense like some of my friends. For instance, Pam and Sue always look put-together, you know what I mean? They have quality clothing that drapes their bodies as though sewn specifically for them. It doesn’t hurt that they have awesome figures. Even Polyester would look wonderful on them.

sue hook2

Stylish Sue

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Am I Coming or Going?

I was glad it was Mother’s Day last Sunday because I knew I’d be running a prior Mom’s Day post, thereby not needing to actually write. What a relief.

phew relief

Lately I’m so busy I don’t know whether I’m coming or going. That saying has some truth to it. I’m decent at multitasking but this is getting ridiculous. (And I’m not even due to write my Things I Find Ridiculous column.)

Preparing for our animal spay/neuter mission in Mykonos, Greece next week has been time consuming but I’ve also been attempting (rather pitifully) to plant some annuals and power wash my patio.

backyard annuals

My backyard minus the annuals

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