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Molly's Monday #4

Someone once asked my humans, "Where does Molly sleep?"

"Wherever she wants."

So true.  Purrrrrrrrrr.

During the day, they let me wander in the backyard. I sleep all over the yard. One of my favorite spots is beneath the avocado tree shielded by the butterfly bush. The only times they won't let me sleep out there is when it's raining, it's too cold, or it's too hot. And, when they go away.

I don't really have a best sleeping spot indoors. I like to circulate to keep Hero Man and Missus Lady on their toes. Missus Lady is really good at finding and cleaning my throw-ups almost right away. My humans don't make me feel bad when it happens. They tell me it happens to the best of us. They also say that they would love it if I would do it on the tiles in the hallway. Sometimes I can oblige.

Last night, I slept with my humans, next to Missus Lady's feet. That's the safest place to be. She doesn't turn much. I like to sleep with them on…
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Sunday Morning Experiment

This morning's experiment: Along with my camera, keep a pen and notebook ready at all times while I deadhead daisies in the front yard. I wanted to see if it's possible for me to re-establish an old habit of carrying a journal.

So, what did this old lady note this morning? Here were a few thoughts that got me to put down the scissors and write.

The driveway looks cleaner than the hood of the car.

The Mama would say I was stingy with the water. Proof—all the dried branches on the daisy. 

Must remember to clean the hairball Molly barfed early this morning on The Husband's favorite spot on the couch.

The faint breeze from fog rolling back west, ahhhh.

Two hummingbirds. Ruby throated guy shows Anna's hummingbird guy the sea of red flowers very near me. Don't mind that human.

So, how did I like having pen and notebook on hand?

The greatest advantage, of course, is recording my thoughts rather than forgetting them.

The downside: It took me longer to deadhead the daisy bu…

Spot Watering

Temperatures are climbing again. The weather dudes say it'll be in the high 90s our way today. As long as there's a breeze, it'll be fine. If not, well, we'll be fine. The Husband, Molly the Cat, and I, that is. I can't speak for anyone else.

Molly Girl and I were out early this morning watering the newly planted flowers. They were only a few so I chose to use the watering can. Only six trips to the faucet, which was far enough away for me to work up a sweat. The exercise also made my knees pop. I like to think that they popped back into place. Dream on.

Sometimes as I trudge about the yard spot watering, I'm reminded of The Mama telling me how her brothers used to carry buckets of water to the field to individually water the plants. I imagined her world of long ago being very hot and dry, and water being very precious. Not so different today, is it?

Several days ago when it was cooler, I stuck two new daisy plants into the ground. The one in the photo is a t…

Silver the Cat

This is Silver. Aren't his blue eyes amazingly blue? 

Old Silver lives on good friends Missus and Mister H's ranch. He's a Persian mix, methinks. He rules the cat roost on the ranch. 

Molly Girl doesn't know a thing about him. I think she prefers to not know about any cats that The Husband and I know.

"Miao, miaooo! That's right!" exclaims Molly from down the hall.

Sweet Days of Summer

This summer actually feels like the summers from when I was a kid allowed to do whatever I wanted (within reason) after all my chores were done. The days go by fast doing nothing. How fortunate am I.

F is for First Floor Offices

About two months ago, The Husband and I came across this bulletin board at the old courthouse, currently home to various county offices. 

To check out ABC Wednesday, click here. For this week's participants, click herefor the list of participants.  Thank you, ABCW Team!

Three Months to Go

"You got something official from Medicare," said The Husband, going through the mail the other day. "Be sure you open it up and read it."

"Yeah, yeah."

"You tear up envelopes without looking inside. This may be important," he cautioned. "I'm putting it on the table."


Yesterday, the letter caught my eye. It did look very official, so I ripped the envelope open rather than in half.

"It's my Medicare card!"

The Husband patted my shoulder.


Medicare won't kick in for another three months. It is nice to know the organization has its ducks in the row. Now, I need to get mine in a row and choose the best Medicare plan for me.

Thank you, President Lyndon B. Johnson!