Da Goddess

My boy. He’s the only reason I’ve bothered getting out of bed the past several days. Aside from getting to the bathroom and getting meds and water, my fuzznugget is THE reason I’ve done anything at all since Friday. He’s pretty much stayed by my side the entire time. He’s a very good boy.

Dad would have been 89 today.

I miss him so very much. Every single day.

I’m so grateful I had a father who was so memorable and missable.

May you all have a day full of love, laughter, joy, and a feeling of belonging.

If you’re feeling alone and blue, please know there are many who also feel this way. If you’re feeling overwhelmed, please reach out for help. 1-800-273-8255

Wishing everyone a very happy Thanksgiving!

I have much to be grateful for and I find myself adding to the list every few minutes. Just as I think I’ve reached the end, another thing pops into mind. I’m almost embarrassed by how many reasons I have to be thankful. But this is one of those times when you thank God for every single item on the list and hope you’re doing justice to the gifts you’ve been given.

Funny how gratitude can change your attitude.

I hope you all have a beautiful day.

We have ourselves a new friend here in the neighborhood. While the Three Amigos (sadly) seem to be MIA of late, Dr Ginger Longhair has taken the opportunity to make his presence known.

He showed up at the top of the stairs yesterday to have a bath and say hello. Fletch let me know he was there. And for this being a strange cat, Fletch wasn’t at all upset. I think he just wanted to hang out and have cat talk with a friend.

Dr Ginger Longhair was fine until I opened the door and offered him some cat food. At that point, he decided I had gotten close enough and headed down the stairs.

Friends, he was stunning! I find myself longing to see him again. Every time I look out the window and don’t see him, a little piece of me dies. To his credit, Fletch hasn’t made a big deal of it. I think he’s hoping this gets him a playmate.

Cats.

The birthday girl as she was so long ago…

Happy 27th, my sweet one!

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Are you ready for Halloween? I am. And I don’t think Halloween can serve up anything worse than what I’ve been through this week. Yes, I’ve already had my scares. And, yes, I said scares. As in multiple scares.

Let’s start with the winds. And the fires. They’re here. All we can do is be prepared for evacuation at this point. I am totally prepared. Thankfully, after one particularly tense afternoon, I realized we were going to be okay. Others aren’t so lucky and my heart goes out to them.

Today’s humidity stands at 4%. FOUR PERCENT. That’s very, VERY dry. And the winds are alternating between calm and the Wicked Witch is coming for you and your little dog, too.

The winds cause the weathervane on my roof to turn. Unfortunately, when it does turn, it sounds like a ghost crying about how heavy its chains are.

Also, being that my home is about 90 years old, windows sometimes open randomly. Not so much a problem for the windows with screens, but the ones without are usually the ones that pop open. And they usually have the most giant spiders and giant spiderwebs. No bueno. I have enough spiders, thank you very much. I’ve learned to jam paper, cardboard, old gift cards, and everything else I can into the gaps in an attempt to keep them closed. Most stay shut. However, one, in particular, proves difficult. The one with the most giant spider and web. Needless to say, I have been known to wake suddenly and sit bolt upright when I have even the slightest suspicion it’s opened up again. I’m not sleeping well, obviously.

Despite all that, I’m better off than those who are in a fire’s path. I keep praying for firefighters to gain the upper hand on all the fires and let people return home…provided they still have one. Please say a prayer for them.

On to other things.

Then there was the other evening when I returned home after having dinner with my sisters and our mom. Normally, Fletch is waiting at the door. No Fletch. I called for him. Nothing. Panic set in. If he somehow got out, he wouldn’t stand a chance against the local strays or the coyotes that are frequent visitors in these parts. Then, in a burst of inspiration, I rushed to my closet and opened it to discover a VERY upset cat. He bolted out of the closet, practically knocking me over. He’s been known to sneak into closets and cupboards and pantries and just about anywhere he could possibly get closed in. I’m usually very careful about checking for him, shooing him out, and closing doors. I missed him sneaking in behind me as I prepared to leave this time. I was gone all of three hours. He wasn’t happy to have been stuck in the closet, but he was relieved to be let out.

Unfortunately, this was the one time Fletch really really really had to pee while trapped. After tearing apart just about everything stored on the floor, he chose to pee on the two worst things to pee on: a leather backpack (KA paid $5 for it, but it was immensely useful and a personal favorite of mine) and — oh, God, this one really hurts — my camera backpack, complete with three lenses and my old camera. The camera and lenses survived, though I lost a variety of ephemera I can’t replace. The important stuff survived and that’s what matters most.

Throwing out both bags made me want to cry. It was a ridiculous reaction. For one thing, both bags can be replaced (or, y’know, not) and all turned out okay gear-wise. Secondly, I hadn’t used either since moving. Whatever importance they held was strictly (weirdly) sentimental and didn’t warrant tears. Thirdly, Fletch did what he had to do. I can’t fault him for heeding nature’s call. Bodily functions are bodily functions. In fact, I’m kind of proud of him for not getting the urine all over the carpet. Quite thoughtful, if you ask me! Actually, I’m guessing nothing got on the carpet. Every time I’ve opened the closet, I take a significant breath and can’t smell anything.

Now, my new fright is having to find a replacement camera case. I’ve started my search and am overwhelmed. Do I want a rolling bag or a backpack or messenger bag or something else? Do I want a bag capable of carrying two camera bodies, five lenses, a flash, my laptop, and the other accessories necessary for a successful shoot? I don’t have a camera shop nearby where I can dig around and try bags on for size. (I miss you, Calumet!) So, I’m trying to sort through the plethora of options online and finding myself paralyzed by the prospect of making a choice.

After all this, I think I can manage whatever Halloween has in store for me. I have candy for my landlords’ daughter as well as any other kids that might show up. I doubt I’ll see anyone else, but I’m prepared nonetheless. I can always eat whatever’s left.

Saturday is Mojo’s birthday. It’s also the landlords’ daughter’s birthday. Mojo’s gifts were sent and a card is on the way. Little Miss Tiny (Fletch’s name for her) has a couple little, inexpensive presents to open because she’s quite honestly one of my favorite kids I’ve ever met. I can’t help but pick up a book or some other little item for her. Fletch adores her and that’s a ringing endorsement if ever there was one.

I got way off track here and it’s late. This is where the post ends. Except to say:

HAPPY HALLOWEEN!

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I can’t help but love Fletch’s teeny tiny, itty bitty teeth. They look so precious and delicate and I just want to touch them! Actually, I have touched them when he’s in a very deep sleep. I wouldn’t be able to do that while he’s awake.

Most people only think of cats with sharp…pointy…teeth*. I was that way, too. It’s what catches the eye and that’s usually enough. But with my little ginger monster…sigh. I just…and it’s so…because…sigh.

Being on my own with only Fletch at my side, I have a lot of time to simply look at and study him. There’s much to be said for examining your pet. It’s a fun, inexpensive pastime. I recommend it to everyone.

But, seriously, it’s really enjoyable for me to study my little gingersnap and commit my findings to memory and sometimes with a camera. Even if it’s a camera phone.

Don’t look at me that way. It’s a low impact, gentle, quiet, and harmless activity. Plus, it’s free. If you want more from me, you’ll need to hit my PayPal account and help finance another activity.

Oh, hey! There’s an idea! PayPal me $10 or more and give me one idea per donation and I’ll do it (documenting the activity with photos and maybe even a video). The donation should equal the average cost of whatever you chose. And don’t forget, my body is broken and I have to avoid activities that would break it further.

Eh. Probably not, huh? Yeah, I should stick with the cat thing.

* bonus points if you get that reference.

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There are reminders of Dad everywhere I look, everywhere I go.

That succulent? In my sister’s backyard, from Dad’s memorial.

In my home, he’s everywhere even though he never set foot here. He’s responsible for the roof over my head, the food I eat, and sometimes even the clothes I wear were his. There are china cups and saucers, a tiny little teapot, artwork on my walls, shorts and shirts I’ve been wearing now for over a year, and the oddest thing: I feel him in the moving shadows as the winds push and pull the big tree outside.

Mostly, I hear him in the crows as they choose their squabble corner right in front of me. Or maybe they’re gossiping. Probably both, as I’ve seen just about everything with them from my windows or from the porch.

Even on my walks, I get the sense he’s not far away. The arguing neighbors, the orange trees pregnant with an endless bounty — or so it seems — and the grapevines that stretch from post to post along the wires between, with their pale green fruit slowly turning purple.

All of it reminds me of Dad. Not in a sad way, though I certainly feel sad sometimes. What I feel is more like…I’m not entirely certain…but, the closest I get to the right words is comfort and gratitude. Dad’s still here, watching over us, and sending reminders of how much he loved us, even if he didn’t say it often.

Isn’t that the best kind of love? The kind that needn’t be spoken because it just…is?

I miss him. I always will. I know this to be true. I also know he’s still close because he’s everywhere — in the little things, the big things, and even in the things we can’t see or hold.

Sometimes, when I’m out walking, I get the sense he’s not far and I always nod my head and say, “hi, Dad. Thanks for everything. I miss you.”

He’s not little any longer, but he’ll always be my Little Dude.

Happy 23rd!

This photo was taken back in 2010. Can’t believe how time has flown. From this cute kid to a man in what feels like the blink of an eye.

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I find this unbearably adorable. That’s it. Nothing more. Just…this.

Except, this:

Aside from a drink holder from McDonald’s, the best gift I’ve ever given Fletch is a “sock” filled with silver vine.

He won’t leave the thing alone.

This is what I was hoping would happen.

He bites it.

He bunny kicks it.

He rolls his body over it.

He tosses it in the air.

He even sleeps on it.

Right this very moment, he’s lying on it & making little sighs of joy.

Greatest $9 ever spent! (I almost didn’t get it because I wasn’t sure he’d like it. I’m glad my instincts were right.)

I’m going to nap while he’s zonked. Sinuses. Back. Early wake up call from the cutest little sweet potato. You get what I’m saying.

Looks like Mom had a heart attack yesterday.

They’re admitting her to the hospital tonight. She refused to go to the hospital yesterday, so C took her down today.

In addition to the cardiac issues, she was very constipated.

As I told my little sister, Mom’s full of shit and had a heart attack. Sounds about right. This is life as we know it.

Also told lil sis she better not cancel her trip abroad.

Excuse me while I go stand in the corner and bang my head against the wall.

P.S. prayers for Mom are greatly appreciated.

The pharmacy that sends my prescriptions was slow with my pain meds. Today was started on Tylenol, which is only slightly better than nothing. Still, I took it because I needed some sort of relief…anything. Tylenol was my only option. The delivery of my meds is supposed to happen today and I can’t wait.

Since I had no pain meds, my walk was abbreviated this morning. I’ve been gradually adding distance to my meanderings; however, without meds, I basically did just enough to shake some of the stiffness I’ve had. Yesterday, I completed most of my regular route. There were, unfortunately, too many days last week when I did NO walking due to my pain level.

Last week was also notable for serious ankle pain from an old injury exacerbated by a recent fall. I’ve fallen more times in the past six or seven months than I have in the past three or four years combined. Only a couple of the recent falls have had led to new injuries. Thankfully, none have been too TOO bad. Like all our recent earthquakes (I’ve only felt two aftershocks), it leaves me feeling something worse is just around the corner. Waiting for the other shoe to drop is a morbid past time for anyone, but doubly so for me since the insurance company has decided to play games when it comes to allowing me to see doctors with whom I’ve established therapeutic relationships. In other words: the insurance company is full of doodyheads and I’m fighting for every single thing I need.

So, um, that’s what’s happening in my life.

Oooh! Oooh! I forgot: this morning, as I was dumping my recycling in the bin, Tabby Cat came to see me. S/he is one of three strays who visit us sporadically. The other two are: Tux, a dusty gray tabby with white bib and feet. Lean and tall, too. And, Blackie. Blackie is, you guessed it, black. Blackie is the most frequent visitor and also the most skittish. Their visits almost make up for the lack of meds. ALMOST. I’m not an idiot…nothing makes up for no meds. But the cats are a wonderful distraction when I’m not feeling great.

Okay, enough of that. Time to get back to the dazzling magical content you’ve come to expect from me. I’m sorry to disappoint y’all on the regular.