Thursday, April 26, 2012

Molly's Great Adventure

"Hey, Kid, your people are looking for you," said Lickity Split, as he sped by me. I barely got onto the sidewalk when he turned the corner. There was no use following him. All afternoon I had been following him to no avail. Just as I caught up to him, he jumped onto a fence and climbed over it into the unknown.

I scooted back into my hiding place. Everything was fine and dandy when I first got outside. But it had gotten dark and cold. I had no idea where I lived. I should've marked my trail as I walked away.

If I was home right now I would be playing with the orange string that the tall hairy human likes to dangle in my face. Then after awhile the human who feeds us would put a bowl of food on my tray.  Sigh. Lickity Split said he would show me where to find food if I didn't go home tonight. Will he come back? I wondered.

"You've got it made, Kid," he said to me when we first met that afternoon. He was the reason I wanted to come out. I had to talk to him. To let him know I lived in the house. But, also to ask him what it was like to live outside. Except for that one time brother and I lived with that horrible couple, I've always lived indoors. And with other cats and dogs.

"I don't think you'd like my kind of life," Lickity Split said. Off he went. He didn't like to stay in one spot for long. He said, "You snooze, you lose." I had no idea what he meant.

It was nice living in a place where I'm the only beast. I liked being the center of those  humans' worlds. Those three humans were nice, even that tiny one who smells like cigarettes. They pet me. They played with me. They gave me delicious food and water. They let me sleep on their soft bed. Sigh.

I wished I was home. I wished Lickity Split hadn't come up the walk. I wished I hadn't pushed on that window screen. I wished I hadn't jumped out of the window. I wished I had thought to look back from where I came.

What was that? It sounded like the noise of the yellow box that holds my dry food.

"Molly! Molly!" That sounded like the human who feeds us.

"Molly is that you?" I looked up at a huge creature. It sounded like her, but I couldn't tell from behind the shrub.

"Come on, Molly. Let's go home." She put her hand on me. I resisted. She pulled me towards her, dragging part of my body on the ground. That hurt. She picked me up and carried me from my hiding spot. I tried to squirm out of her arms, but she held tighter. She walked quickly across grass, calling out to someone, "Hurry, hurry, open the door."

A door opened. I jumped out of her arms. I ran into a lit room where a television blared. The tiny human sat on the couch. The tall hairy human stood behind me. They both sounded happy when they said, "Molly! You're home!"

Honestly, I didn't think I would ever see them again. I was ever so grateful to be home, especially when I looked out the window this morning and saw that the world outside was wet.

© 2012 Su-sieee! Mac. All rights reserved.

Thursday, April 19, 2012

So Says the Mama

After almost nine years of living with the Mama, the Husband and I sometimes find ourselves saying one of the Mama's infamous phrases. The first few times, the Husband heard her say them, he asked me, "Why does she say that?" Like I would know. But, I did try my best to reason out why she might. Now that the phrases pop out of the Husband's mouth, he may be able to explain to me why she would say such a thing. 

Here are two of our  favorite phrases of the Mama.

Lots of people there?
The Husband and I come home from a party, a hike in a park, a local function, a something.

"Hello," we call out, as we enter the house. "Hello, hello." We usually have to say "Hello" a few times because the Mama doesn't answer right away, even if she happens to be in the living room, which is just a short hallway from the front door.

When she doesn't answer, which, as the Husband says, is normally a grunt, I go searching for her.

"We're home," I say, when I see her.

Her response: "Lots of people there?"

They cannot fool me!

The Mama looks up from a piece of junk mail she has been reading. She hands me the letter and asks, "What do they want?"

I scan the letter to make sure it's not anything important. I make a big point of taking more than 30seconds to look at it. Otherwise, the Mama will think I am not really reading it. When I'm sure it's just a solicitation, I give it back to her and say, "They want your money."

"They cannot fool me!" says the Mama, as she returns the letter, along with the envelope, to me so I can  tear them into pieces and dump them in the garbage.

© 2012 Su-sieee! Mac. All rights reserved.

Thursday, April 12, 2012

What I Would Do

If I were more ambitious, I would nudge myself to actually take the time do the following ten...five...three! things within the next...uhm...let's say five weeks.

Sew the "bridle" for Molly the Cat.
It's not really called a "bridle". I just can't remember the correct term right now. But, it's the thing to which you attach a leash. Yes, the Husband and I have visions of walking with Molly the Cat. So does the Mama. I've already bought the "ingredients" (again, I can't remember the correct term) for the project. If you're curious about my vague description, check this link. Okay, the bridle is a harness. Bridle sounds so much nicer.

Pedal my bicycle to and from Tres Pinos. Every morning before breakfast, too.
Tres Pinos is a cool, tiny village about five to seven miles away from the house, depending on what route I take. This would be a very huge commitment as well as a complete overhaul of my schedule. It would mean that I no longer stay up until the wee hours of the morning. But, then, if I started my day earlier, I could get up to work in the wee hours of the morning before hopping on the bicycle.

For this objective to happen, the crew members of this house would have to readjust their schedules, too. So, maybe I should just think about coming up with a more realistic goal such as: Pedal my bicycle to and from Tres Pinos once or twice a week, regardless of the time. If I throw in having a meal or snack at the Flapjack's Country Cafe, the Husband just might want to join me.

Plant some herbs and lettuce.
I don't know how many years I've had this package of lettuce seeds on my desk. Every so often, I uncover it when papers get moved around. There is probably a package of basil seeds around here, too. Yes, this daydream...goal...idea... is quite doable. And if I do it indoors, the plants may have a better chance of living. After all, I finally got a hang on caring for the mushrooms in the box. See how huge they are in the photo! That's the second crop. The first crop came out stunted and almost like petrified wood because I didn't mist it enough. Hmmm, I think there may be a trip to the nursery happening in...let's say in two weeks.

© 2012 Su-sieee! Mac. All rights reserved.

Monday, April 9, 2012


Yesterday, I was going to do our taxes.

Instead, I took the Mama to the annual Easter BBQ fundraiser sponsored by the local Filipino American  club. Purchasing the chicken lunch is the Mama's way of "making" the Easter meal since she no longer has the stamina to do it herself. It's also her unspoken way of giving me a break from cooking. Well, that's what I like to think.

Yesterday was a beautiful afternoon for a picnic. As the Mama likes to say, "Lot of people there." The lunch line was long, about 45 minutes long. I didn't mind standing in it at all, especially when I ended up talking with the guy behind me who turned out to be the nephew of Alice, a friend of my mom's from long, long time ago. What did he and I remember so well about Alice: Her cookies!  I also recall that it could be hot, hot, HOT outside, but so cool, cool, COOL inside her house. Dark, too. But, then that's what made it so cool.

While I stood in line yakking away, the Mama hung out at the tables talking with her lady friends. Some of them had seen her at a party the week before, so, she didn't get many of the usual questions: How old are you now? ("100," she says.) What do you eat? (In other words, how do you look so young? And, it's not because of the hair dye job.) Do you hurt? (As if she would tell anyone but me. And even then).

Once I got the BBQ chicken and side dishes, I went over to collect the Mama. Yes, we just purchase the food and head home. The Mama likes doing the social circuit, as long as she doesn't stay too long. That's okay with me. I usually drop her off and pick her up when she tells me. Except for the Filipino American community picnic fundraisers, where I hang out with her until she is ready to go.

As I laid out the food on the table at home, the Mama sat at her place, alternating a bite between a chocolate cookie and a Filipino dessert. Mama essentially endures the questions, which she and the Husband consider quite rude, at Filipino parties for the Filipino desserts. Comfort food. I started to make a fuss about her ruining her appetite for the BBQ, then thought whatever for. It was Easter and the Mama is after all, as she says, 100 years old.

It turned out the desserts did not take her appetite away. The Husband and I happily noshed away with the Mama—BBQ chicken, chili, rice, green salad, and garlic bread. Molly the Cat also enjoyed her morsels of BBQ chicken.

After the dishes was washed and put away, you would've thought I'd start the taxes. Of course not. Now, the Husband and I needed to work off our almost-stuffed tummies. We got on our bicycles and pedaled against the wind for a good work-out.

As for the rest of day and night, between dinner, watching TV,  and sleeping, I decided to finish a chunk of work instead of doing the taxes. There was (or should I say is) tomorrow.

So, here I am at yesterday's tomorrow. I have still another chunk of work that needs to get done to make a deadline next week.... Definitely tomorrow—the taxes.

Thursday, April 5, 2012

A New Daydream

This morning, I read that a local farm needs a driver to deliver CSA boxes to its distribution points in several cities. Only twice a week. Only 15 to 20 hours a week. $12 to $14/hour, depending on experience.

I would love that job.

Yes, I would.

Those are not long hours at all. The pay is definitely a living wage and it would be a nice monetary supplement for this nonstarving writer.  The lifting and hauling? I may not be in the best of shape, but I can manage the up to 40 pounds per item. I truly believe that within a few weeks my strength and stamina would be greatly improved. I would be hauling boxes with the not-quite nonchalance I used to do when I was quite younger. (Hey, it's my daydream.) Besides, the Husband says he would do it with me. Just think, the farmer would get two for the cost of one.

If only I didn't have this writing project right now. And, those other responsibilities that I can't walk away from for two days a week.

I know my limits—and my priorities. So, I'll just daydream about driving a van full of organic vegetables and fruit from a farm to suburban and urban locations. That is, when I'm not stuttering out words on the computer into the early morning hours for a wage that was minimum many years ago.  Not that I am complaining. Most definitely not.

Monday, April 2, 2012

Time Out: What is This?

Let's play the guessing game. What do you think this is?
Ah, you don't want to scroll down, do ya?

 Easy, huh? A hidey-hole. Most certainly a huge one.

Who else thinks this could be a portal to another dimension?
Or, a place to hide treasures? Or....?

Whoa! Would you believe this is an avocado tree?
It's one of the oldest ones in California—more than
100 years old.  Just think of all the secrets that may
have been hidden in that hidey-hole. If you're ever
in Santa Cruz, California, you can check the tree out
at the Santa Cruz State Historic Park.