Monday, May 21, 2018

From the Archives: Ssssssh, We're in a Hospital

Hi ya! Hey ya! Hope all's well with ya. All is well with us. I'm reaching into my archives for a couple more days so I can play catch up around the house. "I'll do it tomorrow." has finally reared itself into today.  Such is retirement. :-) Have fun out there.

Today's post (edited) was first published on August 30, 2012. It was originally titled "Quiet. Hospital."
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The Mama may be coming home from the hospital today. The ambulance took her there on Monday afternoon. All of a sudden the Mama could not move her legs or arms, no matter how hard she tried. She caught the nasty bug from the Husband who has had it for a few days. On her, it turned into pneumonia. What made it worse was that she was dehydrated. Stay hydrated, folks!

Hydration, however, is not what today's post is about. Nope.

After two nights alone in her hospital room, the Mama got a "roommate" with a loving extended family to visit her. The Mama, in contrast, has just loving me. The husband is sick so cannot visit and Molly the Cat is not allowed in the hospital. The Mama forbade me from telling her friends where she was.

Before I go any further, let me say this: I have nothing against visitors in hospital rooms. But, I expect visitors to act appropriately—talk quietly, be considerate of other patients, and recognize that a hospital is not a place to party hearty. 

Back to the story. Yesterday when I left the Mama after lunch, her "roommate" had four relatives visiting her. When I returned just before dinner, the "roommate" had three different relatives around her. The hospital room is small, so without even trying you can overhear each side's conversation. The "roommate" and her relatives  were very chatty. Because my mom has poor hearing, I sat on her bed as near as possible to her so I wouldn't TALK LOUDLY or even talk at my normal pitch.

The Mama did not look rested at all. "Did you sleep today?" I asked. She shook her head. "How come?" I asked. "I don't know," she replied. I had a feeling the "roommate" and her visitors were chatty all afternoon.

The Mama is very good about sucking it up. Not me. Hello, we're in a hospital. There's a sign in the hallway that says QUIET. I did my best to not pay attention to nor get annoyed at the now four people talking loudly on the other side of the thin curtain that separated the patients. I did my best for 45 minutes. That's when I heard a fifth voice at the door.

I walked over to the curtain, pulled it aside, and glanced around. They looked at me in surprise. I didn't say a thing. One woman asked, "Are we too loud?"

"Yes. You are."

"Sorry. We'll try to be quiet."

"Thank you," I said, "This is a small room."

The not TALKING LOUDLY lasted about 10 minutes. I was no longer concerned about that anymore. Mama was feeling cold even with 5 blankets on her. The air conditioning was on and seemed to be directed at her  head. I pressed the red call button and told the nurse who answered that the Mama was feeling cold and could she please put the heat on her side of the room. Within a few seconds, a nurse stood by the bed. She said, "There's no way to regulate the room so that one side gets heat."

"My mom is cold," I said. "She already has five blankets on her."

The nurse closed the curtain, talked with the other side, and came back. "The other patient feels hot," she said.

"My mom is cold," I repeated.

"Right," said the nurse.

The woman who asked me if they were too loud called from the other side of the curtain, "My aunt is hot."

"My mom is cold," I said.

"You've told us we're too loud. You've got to give us something. You've got to work with us."

"I'm trying," I said when I really wanted to say: You knew you were loud without me even saying so. You weren't even trying to be considerate to my mom just because she is quiet. And, I don't have to give you anything. This is a hospital. My mom is mending from pneumonia. She is cold. Why should she feel miserable? And why was your aunt put in this room anyway. Hers is a physical problem. She could catch whatever my mom has.

Fortunately, the nurse came up with a solution. I heard her ask, "Would you mind moving to another room? We have a few empty rooms."

"Fine," said the woman who asked me if they were too loud.

For the next 10 minutes, a lot of movement took place on the other side of the curtain. They TALKED LOUDLY. They called me names in their language, which obviously they didn't think I understood. I felt like responding, but like the Mama, I can suck it up when it's better to do so.

"Is she going home?" asked the Mama groggily.

"No, she's being moved to another room."

"Why?"

"Because you feel cold and she feels hot."

"I don't have to have the heater."

"Yes, you do. You're cold."

I went over and tapped the shoulder of the woman who asked me if they were too loud. "I'm sorry," I said.

"It's fine," she said, huffily. "Now you can have your privacy."

"As you can, too," I said. Not adding what I felt like saying, Now you can talk as LOUD  and as much as you want and have as many people as you want in the room.

The nurse came back. "Do you still want the room warmer?"

"Yes," I said. "My mom is cold."

"I'll put it up."

"Thank you." I had to know, so I asked, "By the way, how many visitors can a patient have?"

"Three," the nurse mumbled. She turned to another nurse who was at the door. "Isn't it?"

"Two," that nurse said, almost under her breath.

It wasn't my intention to get the other patient and her family moved to another room. But, I am glad it happened.

When I left the sleeping Mama an hour later, the hospital room was quiet and warm as it ought to be.

Sunday, May 20, 2018

From the Archives: Molly's Great Adventure

Hi ya! Hey ya! Hope all's well with ya. All is well with us. I'm reaching into my archives for the next several days so I can play catch up around the house. "I'll do it tomorrow." has finally reared itself into today.  Such is retirement. :-) Have fun out there.

Today's post (edited) was first published on April 26, 2012.  It's narrated by Molly the Cat, who had been living with us for over two months when she had her adventure.
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"Hey, Kid, your people are looking for you," said Lickity Split, as he speeds by me. I barely get onto the sidewalk when he turns the corner at the end of the street. There is no use following him. All afternoon I was following him. Just as I catch up to him, he jumps onto a fence and climbs over it into the unknown.

I scoot back into my hiding place. Everything was fine and dandy when I first got outside, but it's now dark and cold. I have no idea where I live.

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. After awhile the short plump human would put a bowl of food on my tray.  Sigh. Lickity Split said he would show me where to find food if I don't go home tonight. But, will he come back?

"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 wanted to let him know I lived in the house and to ask him what it was like to live outside. I've always lived indoors.

"I don't think you'd like my kind of life," Lickity Split said. "You snooze, you lose." What did he mean?

It's nice living in a house where I'm the only beast. I like being the center of the humans' world. Those three humans are nice, even that tiny one who smells like cigarettes. They pet me. They play with me. They give me water and yummy food. They let me sleep on their beds and couches. They say nice things to me, not like that horrible couple where brother and I lived a few months ago. Sigh.

I wish I was home. I wish Lickity Split hadn't come by the house. I wish I hadn't pushed on the window screen. I wish I didn't jump out of the window. I wish I had thought to mark my path home.

What's that? It sounds like the rattle of the yellow box with my dry food.

"Molly! Molly!" That sounds like the human who feeds me.

"Molly is that you?" Is that really one of my humans?

"Come on, Molly. Let's go home." She puts her hand on me. I resist. She pulls me towards her, dragging part of my body on the ground. Grrrr. That hurts. She's got me. I try to squirm out of her arms, but she holds tighter. She walks quickly across the lawn, calling out, "Hurry, hurry, open the door!"

The door to the house opens. I jump out of her arms and run into a lit room where the TV is blaring. The tiny human sits on the couch while the tall hairy human stands behind me. "Molly! You're home!" They sound very happy.

I am ever so glad  to be home.


Saturday, May 19, 2018

From the Archives: Going to Church with the Daddy

Hi ya! Hey ya! Hope all's well with ya. All is well with us. I'm reaching into my archives for the next several days so I can play catch up around the house. "I'll do it tomorrow." has finally reared itself into today.  Such is retirement. :-) Have fun out there.

Today's post (edited) was first published on February 13, 2013. Warning: Cursing ahead.
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One of the last times I went to church with the Daddy was a Good Friday. The Mama scored big that day as she got both the Daddy and me to go with her. I don't know how she did it. I did daydream through the service. That is, until the Daddy caught my attention.

It was a struggle for his old cartilage to do all the physical activity that takes place during a Catholic mass, especially at the much longer Good Friday service. You stand, sit, and kneel a lot.  I don't think the Daddy realized he was protesting out loud. I still wonder if God and I were the only ones who heard him. 

Stand.
Sit.
Kneel.
"Shit."

Sit.
Stand.
Kneel.
"Fuck."

Kneel.
Stand.
"God damn."
Sit.

Stand.
Sit.
Kneel.
"Shit. Fuck. God damn."

The Husband loves this story. After all, what's not to like: An old man swears in church.

How I miss the Daddy. 

Friday, May 18, 2018

From the Archives: The Solicitation

Hi ya! Hey ya! Hope all's well with ya. All is well with us. I'm reaching into my archives for the next several days so I can play catch up around the house. "I'll do it tomorrow." has finally reared itself into today.  Such is retirement. :-) Have fun out there.

Today's post (edited) was first published on May 13, 2010.  Yes,  this really did happen.
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Ding dong.

"Who can that be?" asked the husband, not getting up from his desk.

I scrambled up from mine and down the stairs.  Not another salesperson from the carpet cleaning or bug zapping service, I hoped. I also didn't want to find someone clutching slick campaign material. Most likely no religious people; they rarely show up around dinner time. Aw, gee. What if it was a friend? The husband and I bought hot dogs at the Farmers Market for dinner, only enough for the Mama and us.

Our front door was open, but the security door was locked. "Hello," I called from the bottom of the stairs to a young man on the porch.

"Hello," he said, pressing his face into the grated door. I love that security door. I can see the people on the other side of it, but they can't see me. I'm just a voice behind it.

"What do you want?"

He stepped back quickly. "I couldn't tell where you were," he said, sounding embarrassed.

I laughed. I almost opened the door. Less gruffly, I asked again, "What do you want?"

"I'm not selling anything."

"Okay. What do you want?"

"Uhm, my name is Danny. I live down the street," he said, pointing to the north. I didn't recognize him from any of the houses on my block.

"This is going to sound odd, but I need an ingredient." I finally noticed an empty glass jar in his hand. "I'm cooking a special meal for my mom's birthday and I ran out of an ingredient."

He paused. Okay, I was willing to bite the line. I asked, "What do you need?"

"Would you happen to have some vodka or gin?"

Now I paused. Do I really want to give someone I don't know some liquor? "Sorry. Can't help you."

"Thanks anyway." Off he went.

Upstairs, the husband asked, "What did he want?"

After repeating the tale, the husband asked, "Why can't he go to the liquor store?"

We heard our next door neighbor saying, "Sorry, we don't have any."

"I've never heard of a neighbor asking for an ingredient," said the husband. "What's he going to make anyway? A martini?"

I wonder if the dude ever got his jar filled with vodka or gin.


Thursday, May 17, 2018

Post Flashback: The Utensil Choir

I'm reaching into my archives for today's post. It was originally published on April 24, 2015. See ya tomorrow.
Earlier this month, the Husband and I entertained ourselves while he washed dishes and I dried them. The result was a rundown of the utensil choir. This is the make up of the choir, according to the Husband, a musician at heart.
The soup spoon sings bass.  
The special spoon, which is a Korean soup spoon, sings baritone. 
Teaspoons sing soprano, while tablespoons sing alto or tenor. 
Forks sing four-part harmony, of course.
Salad forks? Three-part harmony!
Knives are tone deaf. When they sing, the sound cuts to the heart.
I didn't want the knives to feel left out, so I let them hold the music sheet for everyone.

Wednesday, May 16, 2018

Stanley the Salsa King


"¡Hola, Señors, Señoras, y Señoritas! ¡Bienvenido!" said the colorfully dressed instructor perched on top of a very tall stool.  Welcome, One and All, to El Studio de Salsa, Samba, So Forth and So On."

The snail spoke clearly, boldly, and charmingly for all the larger animals to hear. "Me llamo Stanley, the Salsa King.  In six weeks time, you all will be dancing the salsa, samba, rumba, cha cha cha, and merengue at Thomas' and Winnie's wedding reception."

Lemon meringue pie?" Guy perked up, bringing Charlie the Camel out of his reverie to nearly stumble over the alligator. "Dude!"

Edwina the Egret sighed while Agathe the Aardvark rolled her eyes. The other animals giggled and snickered.

"You are all nervous, no?" asked Stanley the Snail.

"Yes!" his students said in unison.

"Good, good. Let us channel that nervousness. I want you all to close your eyes, listen to this Eddie Palmieri song, and simply let your body sway and stomp to the music." The Salsa King looked around the room, making eye contact first with the future bride and groom, then with each of their friends.

"Take a deep breath. Another. And, another. Ready? Let us feel the music!"




S is the theme for this week of ABC Wednesday. Check out the meme here and the list of this week's participants here. Thank you much, ABCW team!




Tuesday, May 15, 2018

You Can't See Me


Molly the Cat, our darling girl, looked to be considering a potential hidey hole. With the glare of the sun I wouldn't have seen her if she hadn't moved. It was a small let-me-get-cozy-in-here movement. Click. 

She's such a sweet girl, our Molly the Cat. 

 

Monday, May 14, 2018

A Duck Pen


Quack, quack. Quack. Quack. 

That's just one of our ducks. Four or five more ducks are hanging around the yard, each in their own little pen. 

Quack. Quack. 
 

Sunday, May 13, 2018

Celebrating with Children in a Parallel Universe


I wanted five children. It didn't matter if they were all girls, all boys, or some kind of combination. I like to think that's happening in a parallel universe. I wonder what their names are. Even today, I'll come across a name that I think is a nice candidate for one of my would've been kids. Maeve, Emmie, Sophia, Emerson, Benjamin James. . . . I like strong, happy names.

So, here I am, seven months shy of receiving Medicare, childless. Every time I thought I was pregnant, several days later, hello menses. I had an irregular cycle, so I tried fertility drugs as well as acupuncture to help get my reproductive system going. The acupuncture was a trip. When all the needles were inserted, I instantly felt like my spirit sprung out of my body and tap danced on the ceiling.

In the early 1990s, during the first week of vacation in Washington, I took a home pregnancy test. Yes, by golly! The First Husband and I went immediately into let's-take-care-of-me-and-the-fetus mode. Yippeee! Two weeks later, our car got a flat in the middle of no where eastern Oregon. The First Husband had physical problems that made it hard for him to change the tire by himself. So, of course, I helped.

A day later, still on the road, I began bleeding. In a panic, I called the gynecologist's office right away. They assured me that the store-bought pregnancy test was 100% accurate and to come into the office once I got home.  I did. They found no evidence of pregnancy, and assured me that I couldn't count on the accuracy of the pregnancy test. I didn't care (still don't) what the doctors said, I knew I was pregnant and I felt strongly that we would have had a son.

The next year, the First Husband was diagnosed with cancer. After a long and tough fight, the First Husband's spirit soared up into the Heavens the following year.  If I hadn't miscarried, our son would be in his mid-20s today. I like to think that in another parallel universe, he's living a centered life with much joy and peace and love.


To all you mothers out there, a Happy Mother's Day every day of the year!


It being Sunday, I'm linking up with All Seasons, a weekly meme hosted by Jesh at Artworks from Jesh St.G. Click here to check out Jesh and her meme. For the participants list, click here. Thanks, Jesh!



Saturday, May 12, 2018

Senior Citizenery—Here We Are!


The Husband and I went to our first true senior citizen thing this morning—an event specifically catered to old folks. It was a senior citizen brunch hosted by our local hospital's volunteer group.  We wouldn't have known about it, nor gone, if it weren't for our friends, the Mister & Missus H, for which, I believe, this was also their first exclusive senior citizen event.

For two bucks (you heard right), we got coffee, orange juice and whatever we wanted at the buffet table, which included scrambled eggs, sausage, hash browns, French toast, steamed veggies, chicken and artichoke in gravy (think biscuit and white gravy without the biscuit), cottage cheese, peaches, and Mandarin oranges. We ahhhh'd when the gals running the show announced that the hospital had also sent over an extra treat of coffee cake for us. 


Two bucks a person! Probably the last time we could buy a hearty breakfast for that amount was in the 1970s. These days, it's about $15 per person. I don't mind so much when the food is delicious, it's something I don't want to cook, and the portions match the cost. (I've no problem asking for a doggy bag.) Lately, though, I've been disappointed. 

The senior citizen brunch is the first and second Saturday of the month. On the first Saturday, we were told, they put out birthday cake to celebrate everyone who has a birthday that month. Oh boy! We're already thinking about going there for cake next month when the Husband turns another year into senior citizenery.

I like what the Husband said: We're embracing our old age.  hahahahahaha


By the way, the photos are of some of the Mama's pink roses. Happy Mother's Day to you all!

Today I'm linking up with Pink Saturday, hosted by Beverly at How Sweet the Sound. To visit other participants, click here. Thank you, Beverly!


Friday, May 11, 2018

Rainbow in a Cloud

"So don't you give up now, ooh, ooh
So easy to find
Just look to your soul
And open your mind
Crystal blue persuasion, mmm, mmm"
~ Eddie Morley Gray, Mike Vale, and Tommy James
I saw my first rainbow in a cloud last week.  The Husband gave me a scientific explanation for it. Something about ice crystals in the air. From my reading on the Internet, generally in terms of spiritually, a rainbow in a cloud symbolizes hope, promise, serenity, and peace among other positive ideas. I like that. It got me humming "Crystal Blue Persuasion" by Tommy James & the Shondells. 

While I was taking photos, a bird flew across the sky. I clicked but I was sure I got nothing more than his tail. So call me happily surprised when I found this among my day's clickety-click captures.


I'm hanging out at Skywatch Friday. Come join me by clicking here. Thanks, Skywatch Friday hosts!




Thursday, May 10, 2018

Happy Day, Oh, Happy Day


My window of opportunity to not be a procrastinator is about two hours, which is between getting out of bed and the sound of the Husband grinding coffee beans for breakfast. I like to use that time for working in the yard, front and/or back. This morning, for instance, I began with watering the volunteer vegetables—two zucchini plants, one bean plant, four or five tomato plants, and another four or plants that have yet to show themselves as really being tomatoes. 

That done, Molly the Cat (the supervisor, as many of you know) and I moseyed to the front yard. Because the Husband will be watering it this afternoon my goal was to sow sunflower seeds here and there, as well as put the geranium plants that we bought last week into the ground. The geraniums took my attention first. Just in time, too. Their leaves had begun to wither. Before I could plant them, I had to rake the dried leaves and pull out weeds out of their new home. Spent poppies were also removed which meant snapping off sturdy seed pods.

I was cleaning up my mess when I heard the Husband call out from the front door. "Hey, you! Would you like pancakes?"

"Sure!"

"I'll get started then."

What a treat, huh? I like pancakes but I don't like to make them. So glad am I that the Husband does.  This morning he looked so cute in his green tee-shirt and cut-off plaid shorts standing by the stove and counting in his head as a pancake sizzled in the pan. The Husband uses a pancake mix. Unlike me, he follows instructions, including measuring precise amounts and turning pancakes per recommendation. Today's pancakes—triple yummmmmm. The best he has made so far.


After breakfast, which was about 11:30 a.m., I made myself go out in the back and put the two Albion strawberry plants into their new home, the water cooler that the Husband won a few years ago from Walgreen's when it opened in town. The Husband filled the cooler with dirt from the yard three days ago. After deeply watering the soil, I thought I'd let it adjust to its new home, too, before the plants went into it.

The strawberry plants seem to like their new home and companions. What do you think?

The clock on the computer says it's 1:37 p.m. I have yet to toss sunflower seeds in the front, wash a load of laundry, write to a couple of friends, and sweep the kitchen floor. All things that I think I must do today. What I probably won't do today is take my 6-week eyeglass prescriptions to the nearby optical shop. Nor will I rearrange the cups and glasses in the kitchen so I can clear the glassware on the table I use for sewing projects, which have been waiting for the last several months.

Yeah, that's retirement mode for me right now. Life is grand. :-)


Wednesday, May 9, 2018

RIP Rhonda, A Rebel of A Raccoon

Cheers to Steve Arevalo, Big-hearted Teddy Bear of a community activist! May his spirit soar in joy and peace throughout the Universe!
This story is for you, Steve.

Agathe the Aardvark stood at the podium, looking out at the enormous room filling up quickly with Rhonda the Raccoon's family,  friends, and colleagues. All the bayside windows and doors were wide open for Rhonda's ocean friends to be part of the memorial. Agathe listened to snippets of conversation among sniffles and loving laughter:

"We could always count on sweet  Rhonda."

"I hope she bit him deep and hard, I do."

"If only she didn't have such a temper."

"That evil man deserved what he got. Rescinding environmental regulations, poo!"

"The Humans should be thankful Rhonda's last words were for us to stand down and not seek revenge."

"Brava, Rhonda!"

Agathe turned to the portrait of Rhonda hanging over the stage. She will miss her dark-eyed friend,  her radiant smile and resplendent heart. One of a kind, Rhonda was, thought the aardvark, always standing up for civil rights and justice. Agathe's soul ached as she glanced at a few of Rhonda's  handmade signs on display.

He may be a WH Resident,
PRESIDENT—NOOOOOOO!

PROTECT EARTH, 
OUR ONLY HOME!

BOOOOO
POO-RITT!

Agathe chuckled. A rebel always in everything. She recalled Rhonda's last words to her. "Be sure to dance a rambunctious rhumba for me at Winnie's and Thomas' wedding, dear."

Clang, clang, clang, clang. clang, clang. . . .

Agathe picked up her bell on the podium and joined all the animals who held up their bells proudly and gladly with hands, paws, mouths, or tails. Five minutes later, the bell tolls dissolved into a reverent silence for their Rhonda. The aardvark took a deep breath and led the audience into singing Rhonda's favorite song.



R is the theme for this week of ABC Wednesday. Check out the meme here and the list of this week's participants here. Thank you much, ABCW team!


Tuesday, May 8, 2018

Head Turners in the Yard!


Oh me, oh my. The sights Molly the Cat and I saw this morning in the front yard.

For one, that fly pollinating the daisies. Until a few years ago, I had no idea flies were pollinators, too.
Flower flies are what they're called in general. Some of them have torsos that resemble bees or wasps. I wonder how many times we've said, "Look a bee!" and it was really a flower fly. Experts say that flower flies don't sting. Hurrah! These flies also love to eat aphids and scales. Thank you, much.

POMPOM POPPY DANCER


Most of the pink pompom poppies have shedded their petals. I think the pods are also cool to look at and go wowza! over. While the blooms make me think of the fluffy hats that comedian Phyllis Diller wore, the poppy pods remind me of ancient Greek soldiers in their Corinthian helmets.

WILD CELERY STALK


I was hoping that the unknown thing growing at the edge of the geranium spread would be bamboo. Nope. The nearly 4-foot plant is a wild celery plant with only one stalk. That's right, a singular stalk. Solamente uno. What if it grew to be as tall as Jack's beanstalk? Golden goose, here Molly the Cat and I come. The Husband shall be waiting at the base, ready to hack away with the axe.


Today is sharing time at Our World Tuesday. Check it out here.  Thanks, Our World Tuesday hosts!


Monday, May 7, 2018

Thinking Back on the Blogging A to Z April 2018 Challenge


This was my fourth year of participating in the Blogging from A to Z April Challenge. The last time was in 2015. It's always good to take a break from something intense for whatever reason.

Back in October, 2017, I challenged myself to do a daily post for at least a year, so taking on the April challenge wasn't going to be a big deal. From my experience with the other three challenges, I knew the following:
  • I wanted to spend time visiting blogs rather than writing posts.
  • My blog was not going to suddenly explode with traffic because of the challenge.
  • It's best to have a theme for focus, ease, and efficiency for me.
  • My posts need to be short and sweet.
So, here's what I did for this year's challenge:
  • I recycled the Jane Austen, Action Doll theme that I did for a weekly ABC meme a few years ago.
  • I visited every participant on the Master List, starting backwards from #697. I didn't visit the list daily, but when I did, I checked anywhere from 20 to 50 blogs on a given day. I managed to visit everyone on the Master List by the last day of the Challenge.
  • If a blog showed no entry for the Challenge or the last entry was several days old, I moved on without checking what the blogger was about. Six hundred ninety-seven participants, remember.
  • I commented on many of the blogs that I visited. About halfway through the Challenge, I thought to add my blog's link with my comment.
  • I kept a list of blogs to which I wanted to return and visit further.
What I thought about this year's challenge:
  • Because I pre-scheduled my posts before the Challenge started, April was almost like a vacation from blogging for me. 
  • Curiously, traffic to my blog was less than in previous years which had me wondering now and then if I was using the wrong list. Oh, well. If I were in a different frame of mind, I could have been discouraged about completing the Challenge.   
  • It really doesn't matter if I left my blog's link on my comment. People who are inclined to visit others will do so with or without the link. 
  • In past Challenges, I visited categories that interested me. I'm glad I tossed that strategy aside to visit all blogs, otherwise, I wouldn't have come across a great number of wonderful storytellers who weaved their tales through words and/or images.
All in all, the best part about this Challenge is visiting blogs and learning stuff I would not have ever known to learn about.

From Jane Austen the Action Doll and me, Thank you, Blogging A to Z April 2018 Challenge hosts!




Sunday, May 6, 2018

Molly the Jumping by Golly


Ready.

Set.

Go.

Jump.

Molly the Cat soars at least one foot high and about 1.5 feet over the alyssum flowers blocking the path.


"Don't close the door, Missus Lady!" says the scurrying Molly. "I'm going in, too."

Soon, I'll be pulling or trimming the spent poppies, then Molly can choose to zig to the side rather than hop over the flowers.


I'm linking up with All Seasons, a weekly meme hosted by Jesh at Artworks from Jesh St.G. Click here to check out Jesh and her meme. For the participants list, click here. Thanks, Jesh!


Saturday, May 5, 2018

In the Pink


That wooden pink and white polka dot thing was one of the arm rests on the Mama's reading chair. When the Mama passed onward into the great beyond two years ago, I moved the chair outdoors. Other than Molly the Cat that chair couldn't support anyone heavier than the Mama.

For a year, the chair held an umbrella tree in the front yard. Neither looked happy. So, back in March, I decided to take that chair apart and turn the parts into garden art. Pink was one of the Mama's favorite colors, and she liked polka dots, thus the new look for the arm rests.


Curious about the other parts of the chair? Check out my Facebook album The Mama's Reading Chair. You don't need to be a Facebook member, or sign in, to view the album.

Today I'm checking out a new meme for me called Pink Saturday, which is hosted by Beverly at How Sweet the Sound. To visit other participants, click here. Thank you, Beverly!


Friday, May 4, 2018

Blue Skies


Blue skies smilin' at me
Nothin' but blue skies do I see. . .
~Irving Berlin

The fog lifted early this morning to give us gorgeous blue skies. The orange roses and pink pompom poppies say "Hullo, hullo!"

Hanging out at Skywatch Friday. Come join me by clicking here. Thanks, Skywatch Friday hosts!


Thursday, May 3, 2018

Here Comes the Shade


It's beginning to get jungly in the back yard. The persimmon trees are popping out leaves, as are the apricot and apple trees.  You can't see the banana plants, but they're also shooting up leaves. When all the trees are full, this part of the yard gets quite shady. Perfect to hang out in when the temperatures soar high.

I ought to call this part of the yard the "jungle room" or maybe Room of Deep Shade. What do you think?


Wednesday, May 2, 2018

The Quintessential Duo — The Quokka & The Quoll


"Tall and tan and young and handsome. . ." sang Quinn the Quokka.

Quaid the Quoll cleared his throat mighty loudly. The quokka stopped singing and raised a questioning eyebrow at her fellow marsupial. She had to be careful what she said next to the carnivore.

"This Honalee Bay Aquarium & Gardens place wants two animal per letter, right? We've got it made, Sheila," said Quaid. "All we gotta do is show up at the auditions. You're the cutest thing in the world. Who wouldn't want you? And who wouldn't want tough quagmire me."

Quinn sighed. "One, I would rather be picked for my talent than my cuteness. Two, I have a name. Three, the talent scouts plan on stopping in Central America."

"So, Quinn?"the quoll asked, emphasizing the quokka's name.

"There's a chance they've already decided on that quirky quetzal bird. I'm sorry, Quaid, but I must be chosen. My mate Winnie's getting married at Honalee Bay in June. If I can get there, I'm one of her bridesmaids."

Quaid clicked his teeth in thought. Quinn made ready to run in case it meant he was hungry.

"Shei...Quinn, I want to go to this Honalee Bay place, too. It serves up the best grub in the world, I've heard."

Quinn gulped. She tried not to quake as she stood.

Quaid shook his head. He quick stepped near her, licking his lips. "It's the only way."

"What is?" Quinn asked, edged away in what she hoped was nonchalance.

"We need to be the quintessential duo of Q's!"

Quinn smiled. "What do you suggest?"

"What we do best—sing! Except we sing two different songs at the same time," said Quaid. "While you sing 'Boy from Ipanema', I sing 'Mighty Quinn'."

"Hmmm, that would definitely be original," said Quinn, trying not to roll her eyes.

"Okay, then, on three," Quaid said, "One, two, three. Come all without, come all within. . . ."



Q is the theme for this week of ABC Wednesday. Check out the meme here and the list of this week's participants here. Thank you much, ABCW team!


Tuesday, May 1, 2018

What Ya Doing, Buddy?


The orange cat looked down at me from his frozen perch on the neighbor's pergola.

"What are you doing up there?" I asked, pulling my camera out of my pants pocket. You never know when a photo opp appears.

The orange cat stared at me, seeming to say, "You don't see me here."

Squawk! Squawk! Squawk!

A blue jay flew from the neighbor's roof into the neighbor's tree. Oh. The cat was what that bird's problem is.  I wondered how long the cat had been up there.

Squawk! Squawk! Squawk!

"You're not going to get that bird from there," I said.

"That's what you think," said the orange cat. "Be gone now."

So, I went.


Now that the April blogging challenge is over, I'm back to my regular stuff of nothingness. Thanks, Jane Austen, Action Doll, for taking over last month. If you want to read her doings, click here.

Today, I'm hooking up with Our World Tuesday. Check it out here.  Thanks, Our World Tuesday hosts!