CATASTROPHE.......

 Let it be known that I enjoy all kinds of animals. I loved visiting the Kansas City Zoo, as a child. My favorite animals to watch were the monkeys and the bears. I've viewed animals, in the wild, from the Midwest to the Alaskan glaciers. 

We have a plethora of wild animals in our suburban back yard. Deer transverse our property in herds of up to nine. We have raccoons, groundhogs and turkeys wandering around on a regular basis. We've been the owners of several dogs, but currently, we have no resident pets. 

What we do have, much to my disgust, is a large, multi-generational residency of feral cats. I'm guessing that we have, living in the the mini woods, at the edge of our property, a herd of 30 or more cats. They are everywhere. They climb on our deck, sit on our front porch, peer in our windows and travel across our backyard, so frequently, that they have created a visible "cat path", from North to South (and vice versa) across our back yard. (Did I mention that I am seriously allergic to cats?)

Remember that Dr. Seuss book, The 500 of Hats of Bartholomew Cubbins?  (Just change that H to a C!) Well, I think that is happening to the Kincaids! I used to tap on the window, when I saw one on the path, and it would scamper away. Now, they don't even turn around. This morning, while typing this post, I've seen 3 black ones and two grey ones. 

They are not going anywhere, because we have a neighbor, two doors down, who feeds all the wild animals. As long as she keeps putting out food, they will continue to hang around and travel back and forth, across our yard. I have contacted the city and they are only willing to come and pick them up...if I catch them and pay to have them removed. (Make that 4 black cats, this morning.)

Any suggestions for a humane solution?

Dear Lord: I keep repeating "I shall not want.", and I know that I am blessed. I just wish someone else would be blessed with these cats. 

 

There is a reason......

 We have three, themed Christmas trees decorated, in our home. The table is set with the Christmas China and the living room mantle and all other flat surfaces, in every room, (including the baths) are decorated with holiday knickknacks.  In, other words, we love the Christmas Season, around here.

What I don't love, and never have, is baking for the holidays. I'm not a great baker. Half of every cake, I've ever baked, has ended up in the trash, because no one wants to eat it. I'm the queen of dry cakes. My children, growing up, thought that all cookies had black bottoms. I am, for sure, not just a baker, but an over-baker! 

So, my least favorite activity, of the season, are those damned cookie exchanges. I don't want to waste my time baking bad cookies. My kitchen experiments make Dr. Frankenstein's monster, look good. Blessedly, I have avoided such festivities, for many years. Surely, I reasoned, cookie exchanges are out of fashion. 

But, no such luck. Someone, somewhere, has brought them back! This year, I am invited to a cookie exchange. No excuses, I have to attend. I'll do my best and bake the requested two dozen cookies. They will taste and look awful. I can't help it. My nightmares, for the past week or so, have consisted of thousands of women grabbing handfuls of cookies, off a smorgasbord of gorgeous sweets. while my lonely plate remains untouched.

I know that I am over thinking this, but my past experiences have distorted my reasoning. I can't simply put two dozen Oreos, on a fancy plate! Keep me in your thoughts and pray for those, who unfortunately, chose my contribution.

Dear Lord. Your birthday celebration is curious, for sure. We love to celebrate the season, and wise persons know that You are the reason. Merry Christmas.

  

The Daily Journal

 I would like to encourage all of my followers, friends and relatives to start journaling, in the New Year.

When I was a teenager, I had a diary. But, I often found myself too busy to write in the thing. I think it had a blue plastic cover, but now that I think about it, that might have been my autograph book. Anyway, most people, at some time in their life, attempt to write about what they are doing and how they are living. That's keeping a diary or journaling.

My current journaling experience consists of two exclusive musings. One part of my journal list things that I do for or give to other people. It's not a tally of my wonderfulness. I keep the list so that I will remember to make a deliberate effort, to give to my fellow life travelers. Giving, my mother tried to teach me, is better than receiving. However, sort of to the contrary, some folks find that a journal of their daily blessings is very meaningful. Writing words of thankfulness, is valuable and humbling.

The other part of my journal is my written account of daily events. Now, you and I know that most of my days are uneventful and pretty dull, but things do happen. I try to write every day and when I miss a day or two, I go back and fill in the particulars, as I remember them. Recording events can help all of us remember, especially as we age.

Have you forgotten when you last visited the beauty salon, or had an appointment with the eye doctor? If you journal, you probably wrote it down, on or near the date it happened. Lots of information, very valuable information, will be right (pun intended) in your journal.

So, buy a cheap spiral notebook or a fancy leather bound journal. You could even use your computer. Start writing. You'll be amazed at how it will enrich your life.

Dear Lord. You are with us every moment of our lives. We do not reflect enough on our blessings, short-comings and joys. Reflection often visualizes, for us, our need to change. Show us Your way.

"Oh, There's No Place Like Home, for the Holidays."

Just when you think you might have a handle on the seasons of your life, your spouse says "I can't believe it's Wednesday, already. It came earlier than usual this week." 

I didn't have anything to say, in response. On what planet am I living?

The same spouse says, "Are you putting up the lights, on the house this year?" Now, the last time we (I) put up lights, on the house, was about 10 years ago. Those lights were the big, fat, multi-colored kind, that we bought, in the last century. They predated twinkle lights, LED lights and solar lighting. They were only one step up from candles! I don't know where they are, anymore. Plus, I am 75 years old, a bit over 5 feet tall and I am not, voluntarily, ever getting on a ladder, again! 

So, today, I bought a red light bulb and a green light bulb. I screwed them into our two porch lights. Consider our lights, hung, Mr. Claus!

Merry Christmas!

Good Lord. I love my life. Growing older is a unique experience. Thank you, Lord, for taking me there.

Ouch!

 I'm going to let you in on a secret. I have a good side and a bad side. No, it's not really what you think. You see, since around 2008, medically, I have had a good side and a bad side. About that time, I was diagnosed with breast cancer. Subsequently, I had all of the known (at that time) treatments to combat the disease. Thankfully, I have survived, but I live with the effects of those treatments.

I favor my bad side. For quite a while, I lifted nothing heavy with my right arm. To this day, although it is my dominant arm, it's a bit weaker than my left arm. I never have shots or blood pressure taken on that arm, either. I'm a bit lop-sided. As the years go on, the differences in my sides, seem to increase.

Fast forward to the past year. A majority of Americans have had the Covid 19 Vaccines. And, most recently the booster shot. Because I have no lymph nodes on my bad side, my good side has taken all three of these treatments, and it's not happy about it. It's been nearly a week now, since the last shot, and my left arm is still hot to the touch. I've developed a rash near the injection site. It still hurts, when I move it. Similar things happened, the last two times. For the present, I have two weak sides!

Now, I am not complaining......Okay, I am!

Truly, I am extremely thankful, that I haven't had Covid 19, and I am positive that the vaccines are the reason for that. However, please note that I (and my good side) will certainly be thrilled when a good anti-viral pill gets developed. Hurry up science and help me get both of my sides working together again!

Dear Lord. I am thankful for modern medicine, and the opportunity to live a long and full life. I realize that I need to work on my patience and thankful spirit. Life is good and I am grateful.

History, according to Nancy

 I was introduced to a new word, this Thanksgiving Holiday.....Historiography. According to my son's apt explanation and the Net's definition, Historiography is learning and researching history through stories and particularly photographs.

That got me thinking and doing a little research myself. Photos can tell quite a bit about a person. Over the years, my hair has gone from dishwater blond (it started getting darker when I was about three or four) to very dark brown, then grey and now almost white. That's some historiography, for you.

And, how about clothing. Sometimes, I look at an old picture of me and realize that a piece of clothing I was wearing in 1990, is still in my closet and I wore it again, last week. That jacket came from the last century, it is over 30 years old and I am still wearing it. It's had a good life. It's old. I need to let it go! It needs to be pitched! Historiography, per Nancy.

My home is filled with photographs of my family, immediate and extended. They provide a rich history and a visible record of changes in the lives of people I love and care about. History in Kodachrome. 

Lord, we are blessed to be Your family. Teach us to treasure the old things, but remind us to focus our energy on the here and now. We praise Your Holy Name.

It's An Open Book

It's inevitable, I guess, that as we age, certain tasks become more difficult. However, it surprises me that, suddenly, my ability to open every day items has diminished enormously!

Saturday, it was the bag, within the box of cereal. The box opened easily, but the inside bag, containing the cereal, would not be pulled apart. It was the toughest plastic, imaginable. I finally had to cut it open with scissors.

Monday, it was the top in the plastic milk jug. Seems like it used to be so easy. Just lift the little ring and pull. What good is dry cereal without milk? 

Tuesday, it was the covering on a little bitty cup of fruit cocktail. That top must have been superglued to the bottom. I finally got it off, after spilling half of the juice!

The box of rice said, "push here to open". I pushed and poked. No luck? Got out a knife and cut the thing open.

I'm hesitant to mention "child proof" lids. I try to avoid them, no matter what the cost! Bags, boxes, screw-off, pry-off, wine corks. All of them are a struggle! 

Let's consider filing a age discrimination law suit. We need repackaging, just for old folks. If this is old age, where do I hire an Assistant...........someone to just drop in every day and open my stuff? 

Dear Lord. I know I am complaining about the little stuff. Give me patience and perseverance. Keep me focused on my blessings.