Another Loss

I’m always saddened when folks lose loved ones. Not too long ago I discovered a fascinating couple through the wife’s blog. Now both are gone. On the bright side, they lived long and fruitful lives.

Don’t misunderstand me; I believe every honorable human uplifts the species. But this couple’s contribution amazes me. For those who never knew their story, here is her obituary. I am sorry that my links will not work tonight and you must copy and paste if interested. Blessings to you all.

https://www.stanleyfuneralhome.com/obituaries/Mariette-Van-Den-Munckhof-Vedder?obId=34153025

Keeping Busy – & – Keeping it Local

I wish my husband wasn’t so adamant about following current events. He considers it his duty to track the status of human conflict. I have no idea why.

Sometimes I try blocking out whatever bad news he’s hearing by lying on the bed with my fan on high for white noise, often with a cat or two (or even all three). He doesn’t understand the level of my futile empathy, though, evidenced by later regurgitating stuff I didn’t need or want to know.

My defenses against pointless anxiety and depression are, as stated first, keeping busy. My summer gardening provided much relief, as do cooking and baking. To his credit, he praises all my efforts.

What he also misunderstands is how, an equal introvert by nature, I’ll speak to strangers hoping to spread a little joy. I’ll compliment a person’s appearance, comment on trivial matters, or simply smile at their children. My favorite tactic is spreading laughter.

Oftentimes I say, “Excuse me” after bumping into a person or obstructing his or her path.

The most common friendly response these days is, “You’re okay.”

To that I gravely reply, “No, I’m not.”

It never fails to elicit at least a small chuckle. And some amused folks agree with my comedic sentiment.

Are folks around you mostly polite or more on the rude side? When others apologize by saying, “I’m sorry,” should I look them from head to toe and reply, “Yes, you are.”

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Two Clarifications

I sure botched the wording about my most recent swim. The bodyguard didn’t stop to talk with me. Rather, he paused his walk halfway across the natatorium before our paths coincided. Rereading my words reminds me what a goofball I can be.

Ah, well.

As for my second point, I learned why our next door neighbor’s house is on the market. The couple split up. With their son long grown and moved away, the soon-to-be ex-husband doesn’t need all that space.

I always thought they were cute together. Many an afternoon I saw them take off on their motorcycle. And sharing a love of their two dogs makes me wonder if he kept his virtual shadow, aging little Maggie while she took her walking buddy Bruno. Couples throwing all their shared history out the window might be justifiable but makes me sad every single time.

Do you agree that children grown and gone seems to leave couples adrift? Is it not especially heartbreaking when the death of a child, whatever the cause, destroys a marriage?

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A Sudden Farewell

Monday, April 10 started out better than most of late. My husband had surgery the Tuesday prior and I’d been coughing for weeks. So I woke feeling pretty well and decided on a garden center visit.

Then I saw Jezebel stumbling around. It was as if her left rear leg wouldn’t support her weight. I immediately called our vet clinic.

A sleepy Jezebel back in February...

No doubt my post title tells the tale. With the clinic’s booked schedule, I dropped her off so they could fit her in and called hours later to learn her status. As it happened, the vet was about to phone me.

She said nobody believed her geriatric age (about 20) but the planned X-ray showed a tumor. Almost guaranteed aggressive cancer, she could prescribe an anti-inflammatory and tranquilizer.

Huh? Why?

I drove back with tears pouring down my face. Due to his post surgical condition my husband couldn’t attend. Thankfully, our kitty sisters keep me laughing. Yet the house seems too quiet.

Jezzy was almost certainly deaf and I took to calling her ‘Mighty Mouth’ (like Mighty Mouse come to save the day!) because she would meow shout for food/attention. Thank heaven we had so much time with her.

Can you believe several staffers, who see euthanasia daily, cried with me? How can I convince my husband’s lack of attendance shouldn’t make him feel guilty?

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The Other Side of the Tracks, Wisdom of the Ages, & a Change of Heart

Taking a walk today, I chose a different route and parked near a downtown railroad crossing. Heading south on the bike path confirmed that old lamentable stereotype ‘the other side of the tracks’. Each rundown residence rather depressing, I noticed the nearby senior center’s HVAC units surrounded by a heavily chained and padlocked fence topped with razor wire (!), no doubt to thwart scrap metal thievery. I’ll stick with the familiar northern path in future.

If I do return, it will be to help the wary cats teaming near one pitiful intersection. That area needs someone like dear Strayer intervening.

Our pampered Jezebel won life's lottery.
And she's blissfully clueless

In a striking moment of foolishness earlier, I struggled to open a powdered drink mix before realizing I still held a fork. The tines were pointed toward my eye. I had to chuckle and wonder if my wisdom stems from growing cynicism and a dark sense of humor rather than aging.

Either way, I’m happy to say both my eyes and eyeglass lenses remain intact.

Meanwhile October is coming to a close and, as Pam of The Whimsical Way kindly noted, for many years I’ve engaged in a month long writing challenge each November. The current state of our world decided me to skip this year. Then it dawned on me, a focus on writing prose is just what I need. I even started a new short story three times before stalling. Now these new characters will have a chance to tell their tale, which has a title but no actual plot.

Do you have any special November plans? Are you, unlike me, the type to organize before undertaking a new project?

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Gardening to Beat Grief

In lieu of lifting weights at the YMCA, I began steady yard work for exercise. Digging in the dirt and renovating an old flower bed have proven cathartic, a distraction from all the depressing world news. Getting out among the natural world is almost spiritual, meditative.

Okay, it's not all 'natural' in my gardens...

Repurposed from my nineties Southwest decor...

A Contemplative Bunny

Frogs from Cox Arboretum gift shop...

A perennial about to bloom
I have to find the name tag...

Vegetable Patch

I left this pretty weed alone...

Discount 'Sunny' Knock Out Rose

One of four eggplants in an EarthBox...

Mixed lettuce seedlings need thinned...

More decorations to distract from the ugly utility box...

Overview of my renovated perennial grass garden,
one of several beds...

My vulture sculpture complete with real bird poo...
~sigh~

Do you think a taller perch would keep the bird crap off my buzzard? Is there enough variety among my silly statuary?
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Disturbed

Before delving into my usual silliness, I'd like to share a link to a fundraiser. As dear Strayer warned, images are disturbing. I averted my eyes from the poor kitty's disfigurement because I'm a wimp. ~shakes head~ Please donate if you are able.

Meanwhile, back to my goofy look at life in Southwest Ohio. Oh, and only in retrospect after updating this post, did I realize this poor animal's plight fits my title. It's odd how things happen.
 
Anyway, on the bright side, our yard is bustling with springtime activity. The other morning I mowed the back lawn, then hooked up the garden hose to clean the mower’s undercarriage. Beneath the shade of my horse chestnut tree, chore complete, I studied the tidy nest above.
 
To my delight, four or five beaks rose, opening and closing in hopes of a feed. It occurred to me that my presence, not to mention the noise, must have disrupted the dedicated mother robin. And our hose no doubt looked like a snake.
 
I wasted no time storing everything away and clearing out. Inside looking out the window, I was rewarded with sight of mama bird flying up to her offspring, a fat bug in her bill. But another development disturbs my poor husband.
 
Years ago I brought home a cute, tropical looking specimen the seller called ‘snake plant’ due to its interesting stem pattern. The thing struggled until I happened to see the same fellow at that garden center and he recommended a shadier spot. From one little pot its transplanted corms have since filled the space between our front door and weeping crabapple tree. And then we started to see blossoms emerge.
 
That doesn’t sound bad, now, does it? But one common name for amorphophallus konjac is ‘corpse flower’. The bloom, meant to attract and capture insects, smells like rotting flesh. Our home improvement contractor actually posed the question one spring, asking what had died. And this May we have a record eight flowers.

Can you see all eight?

My guy now dreads some delivery person calling the authorities until they wilt back and make way for its striking foliage. While I think the average person will simply go on with his or her busy day, the thought is a bit disturbing. It’s weird how I end up growing pervasive stuff like this and the menacing prickly pear cacti while my daylilies and creeping phlox disappeared into the ground.

What are the odds I’d plant this right next to my front door? Would you find such a stench suspicious enough to call the police?
 

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Misappropriation

The word chosen for my title usually refers to financial misconduct. But Liz A.’s Cinco de Mayo misadventure reminded me of time and money wasted on a long past yet unforgettable disappointment.

Both Mississippi Delta blues music fans, my husband and I traveled over a hundred miles to Indiana’s oldest blues bar and legendary nightspot, The Slippery Noodle. We arrived that evening, show tickets in hand, to discover massive crowds and no available parking. I never considered the month’s significance or that a downtown Indianapolis sports stadium hosted a March Madness basketball game.

Somehow I navigated around countless inebriated pedestrians and found a free spot several blocks from The Noodle. Relief lasted only until we discovered the place packed with still more intoxicated sports fans. Waitresses were so overwhelmed that we could hardly order a drink, let alone the anticipated meal.

At long last served, we relaxed upon seeing the musicians set up. But after a few tunes the performers met with what appeared to be a club manager and, overwhelmed by drunken hecklers, surrendered the stage to a giant descending screen. I imagine management feared a destructive riot.

My husband and I left our table to the screaming fanatics. At my request, he went in search of a (much needed) cocktail while I headed to the ladies room.

On my way I found the headlining band on a second stage. At last! Unfortunately, another sound system interfered further, broadcasting the stupid game at ear splitting decibels.

I cannot imagine how the artists must have felt. They acted calm and cool. My husband and I were outraged that the place turned into a sports bar. Disgusted, we crashed at our hotel, drove home first thing the next morning, and never returned.

Have you ever been annoyed by a sports event preempting a television broadcast? Can you imagine if professional half-time musicians would not allow the Super Bowl to resume? And here’s a dumb final question: do you think my emailed bewilderment received a response?

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Ah, Memories... How Bittersweet

A Bygone Era...

I am so thankful for having seen Palaye Royale perform three times before this pandemic. This past week would have been the fourth. By the way, super early reporting by Styxhexenhammer666 (Warning: some foul language) on happens in Communist China stopped me from buying a concert ticket.

It saddens me that the brothers' skyrocketing careers are on hold. They could not be any sweeter in appreciating their fans (of all ages, shapes, and sizes). ~grin~ Emerson complimented the bolero jacket his fun and spirited pirate fashion sense inspired me to buy.

Too bad I never got to meet
Emerson (L) & Remmy's
big brother Sebastian.

Isn't it adorable how Remington, who hugged me first, looks a tiny bit protective toward his baby brother? And how lucky am I that my friend spotted Emerson walking past last summer at an outdoor venue, gaining me another hug and my first (cheesy) selfie?

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Feeling Better for Being the ‘Bad Guy’

My husband, God love him, has a strange reaction to other peoples’ cats. When he really (frequently) likes them, he offers to take the animal(s) into our home if needed. I neither encouraged this behavior nor made a big deal of it.

Until now.

The neighbor across the street took him up on the proposal! They’ve had a dog for quite a long time, added a cat around three years ago, then brought home a puppy. MacKenzie the cat and this new little dude, apparently, fight a lot.

Like cats and dogs, as they say.

Well, I cannot see this going any direction but sideways. What if their daughter wants to visit all the time? Kids stress me out. Even worse, should she not want to see her cat, that would make me feel ill toward the child.

That’s not even addressing how our geriatric gal Jezebel might react. Independent as that cat acts, it would be awful if she went into permanent hiding.

“But you were quick in willing to take in Dillon,” my husband noted.

I also had no clue that the orange kitten dubbed ‘Styx’ came from a loving home. Meanwhile, this neighbor acted insistent, as if kitty needed a new home immediately.

Well, as mentioned, I had to be the bad guy. Since he sent my husband numerous text messages about this, that’s how I replied, writing that the timing felt wrong (which is true). And at least hubby had a good proposal addressing their issue.

For my part, I know puppies grow up and generally calm down. What I asked this neighbor, as DH suggested, is if MacKenzie has a high perch to which she can escape.

Upon first adopting her the family declined to accept one of our tall cat trees by not replying. I could only imagine the lady of the house didn’t want a bulky piece of carpeted, slightly tattered furniture cluttering her home. What they could do, as TV show host Jackson Galaxy would advise, is research consumer options. There are many, such as impermanent window perches and even cat ‘shelves’.

Jackson Galaxy: Musician by Night; Cat Behavioralist by Day

Have you ever watched “My Cat From Hell”?

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