Musings on a Small Life

Today's eye candy is Channing Tatum , suggested by Jacqueline quite some time ago. He's definitely eye candy, though he can't beat last week's rugby players, IMO. LOL. Enjoy and happy Friday, everyone!

Yes, folks, I have failed Sewing 101. No hope for redemption on that score. Yesterday I took the afternoon off from work--no reason, just because I wanted a break--and came home, thought that I really just had to suck it up and hem several pairs of Capri pants that are far too long for my 5' 3" frame (all torso, very short legs). I've been rolling them up for the past few summers, hoping I'd lose the 30 pounds I have acquired and thereby not need to hem at all, but losing weight isn't going to occur without a heck of a lot of exercise and self-control. Which ain't happenin', honey! So, to save time (you know where this is going, right?), I decided I'd haul out my basic sewing machine, the one Mom gave me years ago, probably with the misguided idea that no woman is complete without one. The one I haven't touched in at least five years. I had four pairs of Capris to hem (and I mean by 5 to 7 inches, not just an inch or two), and that entailed m...

77F/25C on the main level of the house this morning, which is reasonable. Bearable. And you probably thought I meant something more exciting.  :-P No further phone calls from girls asking where their cats are--I've not done any cat-napping in the past  few days. Not that kind, at any rate. Of course I can't walk by that way again, either. I'd hate to see that ginger boy outside and ignored/neglected again. My credit card hasn't been charged for the retrieval fee yet, but the shelter was closed yesterday and I don't imagine they are that speedy at processing these things anyway. I want to make sure I'm not over-charged by the shelter for that, even though I was quite clear about how much I would pay. So, a less-than-exciting few days, which, at the moment, is a good thing. Happy mid-week, everyone. Just a few snapshots on the way to the office this AM, after stopping at the ubiquitous Tim Horton's for an iced coffee to go.

Just got a call from a girl--young--asking if I had her ginger cat. (I had left my name and number on Saturday, on their door.) Let the answering machine kick in, had a sh*t fit, called the Humane Society to find out if the cat was still alive--yes, thank you!!!!!--said I'd heard from the cat's human and that I would pay for the retrieval fee for up to 2 days ($20 per day, so just $20 if they go get him today). Gave the young woman at the KHS my credit card number and phone number, as well as the number for the girl. BTW, the KHS staff person told me there were 8 numbers listed with the microchip on this cat, none of them valid. She seemed to feel I had done the right thing in bringing him in, but I was sh*tting bricks, as the expression goes. I had just hung up and the phone rang again, the cat's girl once more. So I picked up. She was very understanding, but I did mention she's young, yes? So not inclined to scream and curse. Told her I was paying for the retrieva...

I appreciate everyone's comments yesterday. It's hard for me to let it all go, emotionally and mentally, even though I did what I felt was best at the time, with the information I had. What encouraged me a little bit was the woman behind House of the Discarded Cats telling me I did the right thing. Whether or not that was the case I'll never know, but I particularly appreciated those words from someone who rescues on an on-going basis. Fingers crossed for this young mancat, because he'd be very adoptable. Particularly being already neutered and microchipped. Declawed is a plus for some, though of course not in my books. I've lit a candle for him at Gratefulness.org and asked Goddess Bastet to take care of her child--and all her children. And now I want other options, if ever in that same situation again. I don't want to leave a cat to slowly starve (especially with our harsh winters), yet I don't want to take another Being to that "humane"...

That starving cat, who happens to be declawed in front, is now at our shelter and the odds he will live long enough to make it to adoption are very, very slim. Backing up... I went at 7:30AM, with food, heading to the grocery store. The cat was in the driveway, no car, no one home, my note on the door gone. I gave him (turns out he is a neutered male) two cans of Fancy Feast and some treats, which he gobbled down. Went and got a few things from the grocery store and headed back. Gave the cat a can of Wellness, which he also gobbled. Saw that he was declawed and thought I have to get him. I went up a few houses and spoke to a man working in his garage, gave him my name and numbers if he found out any info. Then I walked home, debating what to do. Got home, got the carrier, took more food, both dry and wet, and water, in case I wasn't able to get the cat. I would have left some kibble and a container of water. Well, the cat was still there, came right over, still...

I shuffled slowly, limping, through our neighbourhood this morning, heading for the bus stop on Princess Street, camera in hand. (I had stepped off something yesterday afternoon and pulled or strained my right calf--feels like a charley horse that doesn't go away, but it's a bit better today all the same, just not quite so easy to walk.) Came across this sweet ginger cat, think it's a girl. No "cojones" and didn't seem to be any remnants thereof. I've seen her once or twice before hanging around a particular house over on Westmoreland, assumed she had a home. But she's very thin, too thin to be a well-fed house cat. She's VERY friendly. Extremely friendly. I had left my cat food at home, as I typically don't carry tins of food with me on the weekend. But I did have a bag of NOW! grain-free treats. She ate half the bag, like she hadn't seen food in a week. I thought, oh, that's not good, so I changed my plans and hobbled on over ...

I tried, I really did, to find yummy pics of Spain's and the Netherland's football players sans shirts. No luck. But the search was fun! I did have more luck with rugby players, however, and ended up going for tattooed, shirtless rugby players. Goddess, I love Google. Happy Friday, everyone! Daniel Conn, Australia  Daniel Conn again  Sonny Bill Williams, New Zealand  This is an Italian team, but I actually don't know if it's rugby. Who cares? LOL. I found the image on a site featuring tattooed men.

I'm utterly blown away by the generosity and kindness of complete strangers, people who have donated to help with Derry's vet bills . I'm still struggling with the embarrassment and shame of asking, but am also grateful beyond mere words. THANK YOU . Dinner last night was surprisingly good! Not awkward, as I thought it would have been. I think she's reconnecting with former friends now that she's getting set to toss out the dead beat she's been supporting for the past five years. Bizarrely, she lost one of her cats (who looked quite a bit like Chumley) to a similar problem--blood clot--two and a half years ago. And she has three other cats now, rescues, plus her 15-year old female, and various visiting cats from the neighbourhood, some with homes and some without. Our lives as middle-aged women with cats seem to be running parallel. LOL. Anyway, I certainly hope it won't be another 4 or 5 years before we see each other again. On an entirely different...

I got a call last night from a number that seemed familiar but that I couldn't place. Didn't pick up as I was in the middle of something, but it turned out to be from a (former) friend that my ex and I knew. Actually, he had met this couple many years ago in Toronto and when I hooked up with the Putz, met them through him. The four of us became friends and eventually, when the ex and I were looking to move from Halifax, we chose this area in part because of their proximity. (Not in the same city, about 45 minutes west.) Eventually they split up, and the Putz and I not long after. I kept in touch with them both for a while, but of course people take different paths and drift apart. The common ground we shared was gone. So I've been out of touch with this person for oh, about four years now, give or take. I really can't recall. But she's in town today and wants to meet, go for dinner. I called her back yesterday evening and said sure, all the while wondering if I ...

I've finally given in to need over pride and added a "donate" button to the cats' blog , for help with Derry's vet bills. And I'm going to have my name added to the list of CB auctions. An auction was suggested to me by Zoolatry back in early June, but I wasn't ready, didn't want to come with cyber-hat in hand. What else is there but one's pride, after all? Yet I've been more than happy to make small donations toward others' vet bills, a number of times since I joined the CB. I don't think it's shameful or embarrassing that others need a bit of help now and again; why is it different when it's me? I guess that even at my age, I still have the whole "I'm not worthy" thing going on. Or perhaps it's because I realize I'm one of the lucky people on this planet, with a job, house, food, clothing, the fur kids--many, many people have far less. So what that I live paycheque to paycheque, just getting by paying...

I had a good early morning walk through the Cemetery today, before it got too desperately hot and muggy. The sign is new, since I last was there. As always, I enjoy looking at the headstones, always wonder who the people were, what their dreams were, if they were happy or at least content or if they welcomed the oblivion of death. Today, this headstone (below) caught my eye, simply because of the "wife of." Never mind that she died while still in her prime. All we know about her is that she was "wife of." Not her passions, her likes and dislikes, her hopes, her achievements. Just that she was a wife. As if that was the only identity that mattered. Wife. Or mother. It so clearly demonstrates to me how the female identity is tied to being someone's "property," and to how well she breeds. We like to think we've come so far, and a few have, but most women on this planet still are someone's property, someone's broodmare. Or have value onl...

That would be today's intended walk, essentially aborted. I stayed up (late for me) to watch the replay of the Netherlands' win over Brazil, because I had been out yesterday AM and missed it. So I was pretty tired when Derry came and woke me around 3:40AM, wanting food and to be let out into the back space. I debated going back to bed, but really wanted to get out and enjoy the gorgeous morning. So off I went at 6AM, having decided to pass on the conservation area. It's an hour out, two hours there, an hour back and I just didn't have that much energy. Plus, I wanted to be back in time to see Argentina and Germany play, which also factored into my decision to pass on the conservation area. Instead, I thought I'd trek along part of the Rideau Trail that runs between Princess Street and Bath Road, then perhaps continue on the trail over to Front Road. Well, I got down to Princess Street, to the point where one picks up the trail, but there were two women and a ...