This morning I was trapped in bed between Molly the Cat and The Husband, both sound asleep. Smiles on their faces. Dreams in their hearts. Musical notes danced from their noses. I wanted to get up. That Girl woke me up when she jumped and thumped onto the bed. After doing her settling-in kneading and drooling on the sheet (TMI?), she curled into a snug ball and pressed herself firmly against my side. So much for personal space. Later. I really wanted to get up. Still against my side, now upside down, Molly was stretched from around my shoulder to nearly my knee. She laid partway on her back and partway on her side in that twisted way of cats. Her bottom half was on her back with her feet turned away from me and her tummy wide open for the universe to see. (They are so cute, Molly's feet are.) Her front half was on her side, facing towards me with her arms stretched way far. (That cute little nose.) How could I interrupt such a pose from sleep? With luck, I thought, the

My theme for #23 Round of ABC Wednesday: Signs & Such of San Benito County, California We all like to go back to a restaurant that makes us drool when we think about the food we had there. Don't you agree? In my county, J.J.'s Burgers in San Juan Bautista is that kind of place for me when it comes to a burger. Garlic fries, too. Drooooooool. J is the featured letter today on ABC Wednesday . Click here to read about this weekly meme, and click here for this week's list of participants.  Thank you, ABCW Team!

It has been 15 years since The Husband and I moved out of the San Francisco Bay Area, which, depending on where we want to go, a 30-minute to two hour-or-so drive away. Lately we have been wandering a bit further into the Bay Area maze. Molly the Cat probably wonders what has gotten into us. She, after all, gets stuck indoors when the humans are at play. The increased number of offensive drivers on the freeway has made driving no longer fun, so we've been trying out BART (Bay Area Rapid Transit) to get beyond San Jose. The nearest BART station is about an hour's drive to the north of us. It's not too much of a white-knuckle drive to get there. Right now the cost for our tickets is equivalent to about a tank of gas. Totally worth it. No fuss, no stress.  Looking out the train window as we headed east away from Oakland, I watched cars on the highway swish frantically pass each other. In a few months I'll turn 65 and be eligible for the senior discount. Hurrah!

I overheard Missus Lady and Hero Man talking about whether to grow a couple of small patches of grass for me to lounge in the back yard. That's nice of them, but it doesn't really matter to me. Besides I rather like that they can't find me right away. Purrrrrrrrrrr.

The paints came out last week. Splash! Splish! A blue elephant now dances across a dinner plate. A once-upon-a-time metal spoon holder now pirouettes in the breeze. This morning the Husband set up the portable table outside so I can play at being an artist. I envision a white pan being painted into a turtle, chicken wire being mangled into the shape of an elephant, and a branch being cut and put back together into something, maybe an asterisk. If any of those things turn out well, it becomes my entry for garden art in next month's county fair. We shall see. Time again for All Seasons , a weekly meme hosted by Jesh of The Jesh Studio , which is where I'm heading to share my post. Click here to check out Jesh. For the participants list, click here . Thanks, Jesh!

Once upon a time, on a beautiful, warm Fall evening, I sat in a university extension classroom of like-minded adults who wanted to improve their writing skills. I spent much of the first hour glancing out the window.  I wanted to see the moment of nightfall. I missed it.

Back in March , I mentioned that a poem of mine was accepted for an anthology of hay(na)ku. "Bad News" is the poem. Now that the anthology is released, I am sharing the poem with you.  Hay(na)ku poems are composed of six words in three lines. What cracks me up is that my brief bio in the book is 10 times longer. Over 100 poets from around the world are featured in HAY(NA)KU 15:A Commemorative 15th Year Anniversary Anthology . Published by Paloma Press, it's edited by Eileen R. Tabios , the creator of the hay(na)ku form.

This is the view of the front yard from near the bottom of the driveway. I sat behind that bush you see near the left corner of the photo.  Molly the Cat was wandering somewhere in there. I didn't plan to spend two hours this morning deadheading dried spikes on that bush, but once I start deadheading a plant, well there I am until it's done. Some spikes were about 18 inches long. A tiny purple flower blooms at the top of each spike. Flowers continually bloom as the spikes grow longer. Wish I can recall the bush's name. That's a photo of the bush from the past Spring. Hmmm, I guess the spike grows from the flower.  I came across a bloom on the potted gardenia plant. Although small, the flower gives off that wonderful delicious scent. This is the first flower in years. The buds dry before they can open. I've promised the plant that I shall pay more attention to it, which I started by immediately clipping off yellowed leaves. I wonder if she would prefer

My theme for #23 Round of ABC Wednesday: Signs & Such of San Benito County, California Yesterday afternoon, at Bertuccio's , a produce market in Hollister, I remembered I had yet to photograph a sign or such that began with the letter I. Twice, I combed that store in search of the letter I.  Amazingly, no vegetable, fruit, or food product began with I. Aha! The vintage weigh scale on display had something: IN TRADE . The complete phrase was NOT LEGAL FOR USE IN TRADE . I have no idea what that means. To check out ABC Wednesday , click here . For this week's participants, click here for the list of participants.  Thank you, ABCW Team!

Not a pumpkin, but a tomato! Last Sunday we went to a tomato tasting party hosted by good friends Missus and Mister H, who planted a variety of tomatoes. I can't recall if Missus H said they put in 70 types or 70 plants. Many of the different varieties looked huge and heavy. A couple I picked up had to be close to 12 to 16 or more ounces. One of my favorites was a big red organic tomato called Boxcar Willie, which was named after Grand Ole Opry Singer. The Husband described its taste best—"It was sweet, and had a rich flavor." Another favorite of mine was Barnes Mountain Yellow, a very plump heirloom yellow tomato which ancestors were grown on Barnes Mountain in Kentucky. Its flavor reminded me slightly of smoked salmon. I also liked Lemon Boy, a true yellow of a tomato, which was your average size of a tomato. I don't remember the flavor, which tells me that I was probably more enamored with its name. There was an heirloom tomato called Abe Lincol

Today's post is all about what's going on in two parts of the backyard. One part is the patio, of which first up are the strawberry plants that live in the red cooler. The original three plants gave us two or three yummy strawberries every few days or so from June to just recently. The plants also sent out more than a dozen runners. All, I hope, will provide us with more strawberries. Back in June, I finally got brave and turned the Daddy's wheelbarrow from the 1960s into a succulents planter. Some succulents did okay, such as the red paddle plant, while others scorched to death. I've  determined that it's okay to pull out a shriveled succulent, as well as plop in another succulent on Wheelbarrow Plain. I keep remembering what Mama said, "If they grow, they grow." The Husband and I have temporarily named the four distinct spaces in the backyard, from south to north, Avocado Room, Sunny Room, Shady Room, and Geranium Room. The last few days I h

Today I'm throwing words onto the page. The end of daily posts for a year is coming up in October. I don't want to break stride. . . .Well, well, well. . . Hello, Miss Molly by Golly!. . .Why thank you, Madame. Molly gave me permission to share the photo of her standing at attention, guarding the front yard one morning last month.

That tall tree next to the side fence is an avocado tree. It started from a seed the Mama planted.  Until last year, it was hidden by a red shed, which has me now thinking that Mama planted the seed after the shed was built in 1989, thereabouts. That makes the tree about 29 years old. Yesterday morning a branch grazed the top of my head, so I got the pruning shears to trim it as it would get in the Husband's way. Lo and behold! I saw an avocado, the size of my tiny finger, hanging from beneath leaves on that low branch. I looked and looked. Yup, avocados. A whole lot of tiny avocados growing! This is the first time that avocado tree is bearing fruit. Wowza! Although Mama is physically gone, the Spirit of Mama continues to whisper to her plants. Perspective: The avocado is the size of my tiny finger.

The other day someone asked me what do I do now that I don't spend 24/7 on the computer writing and doing research. A whole lot of nothing was my answer. The better answer, I realize today, is a whole lot of experimenting with stuff, such as plants, crafts, sewing, baking, drawing, writing, reading, and whatever comes my way. So, today, I show off last night's results of my experimenting with the markers I purchased on a whim earlier this month. Lucky for me there happened to be a box of crayons nearby so I didn't have to get off the couch.

My theme for #23 Round of ABC Wednesday: Signs & Such of San Benito County, California In my hometown of Hollister, downtown parking is free for three hours, between 8:00 a.m. and 5:00 p.m., Monday through Saturday.  It used to be two hours, but some people complained they couldn't get their business done within that time, and, no way were they going to park in the city garage where it's free all the time. That's too far of a hike. Downtown Hollister is five blocks long. We are spoiled.   To check out ABC Wednesday , click here . For this week's participants, click here for the list of participants.  Thank you, ABCW Team!

I now own a mini glue gun! And a whole lot of glue sticks. Whoooo-hoooo! I've never had a glue gun before. In fact, I have never used one.  Heee-heee. This morning, The Husband and I went to the new hardware store in the town next door to buy a solution for buffing up brass things. The store had nothing on hand. Being a small shop in a small town, I expected not to find anything appropriate. I also didn't expect to purchase a mini glue gun. It was $5.49. Cheap, I thought. Please don't tell me otherwise. The Husband asked me, "What are you going to use it for?" Chissa? Who knows?  Maybe I'll glue cows to the ground. Just kidding. Vedremo. We shall see.   I'm connecting with Our World Tuesday . Here's the link . Thank you, OWT administrators.  Ciao.

The Husband and I cannot recall the last time Eliza Doalot had her last bath. Pouring rain last winter didn't clean her. As of yesterday, Eliza is clean. Inside, too. Ha! As we were vacuuming and dusting the insides, I thought how Mama would've shown great pleasure to see Eliza sparkle sparkle on the driveway. Mama was always after us to wash the car. Our excuse for not washing the car was "It's a drought. We don't want to waste the water." Yesterday was Mama's birthday . A shiny Eliza Doalot was the perfect birthday present to honor the memory of Mama. Sunday means All Seasons , a weekly meme hosted by Jesh of The Jesh Studio , which is where I'm heading to share my post. Click here to check out Jesh. For the participants list, click here . Thanks, Jesh!

Today, Mama would've been 97 years old, three years shy from the 100 that she often told people she was. If I happened to be around, they would ask me, "Is that true? Is she really 100." "Is that what she said?" I'd reply. "Yes." Mama was probably in her mid-80s when people started wanting to know about her age. At first, I'd laugh, and say something like "She's pulling your leg." Only if they asked would I say how old Mama truly was.  When Mama was in her 90s, I would simply reply, "That's what she said." Whatever I replied, they'd respond, "She's strong for her age." Or, "She looks good for her age." Of course. She spent nearly every day of her 29 years of retirement working in her yard, making it pretty with succulents, flowers, vegetables, and fruit trees. What better way for me to celebrate Mama's birthday than to take cuttings of her red geraniums and

Where oh where did my fabric go? Where oh where did it go? I've been looking for the pieces of rayon fabric for my tunic, the cotton remnants for L Studio's curtains, and the blue hue bunch of fat quarters and scrap. Well, I've been talking about looking. That's not true. I did look through the boxes and containers of fabric in the NW corner of L Studio on Monday. Since then, I've been letting my brain consider where these missing materials might be. Regardless of the misplaced fabric, I have been busy on the sewing machine. In my search, I found worn-out tee-shirts of ours and skirts I bought at a thrift shop that I put aside years ago to repurpose into something useful. So, there you go. Up in that photo, Husband is modeling our four new tee-shirt shopping bags and in the photo below, another new shopping bag made from a skirt. Hot cha-cha.

This morning I read in the AARP Magazine that glaring lights and difficulty driving at night are signs of developing cataracts. Ha! Night driving started becoming a frightful thing for me over five years ago. Earlier this year I asked my primary doctor why he thought a sparkle-sparkle sometimes appeared inside my eye and only disappeared once it grew to the size of my eyeball. "Don't know," the old doc said, and sent me to an ophthalmologist whose appointment book was full for nearly two months. The young doc had no clue either, but she did discover cataracts in both my eyes, bad enough that my insurance would cover surgery. Yay! Also, Boooo! I chose to get new prescription glasses, stubbornly thinking that all the deep scratches in my eight-year-old glasses were the problem. Ha, ha, I don't know better than the experts. Some where down the line I'll need to decide what to do first: Knee or lens? I can alternate, knee, lens, knee, lens or lens, knee, lens