I'd Better Write It Down Before I Forget


Owned By Cats
I'm older than most of you reading this. I'm finding that I should write things down more often so I can remember. Most things I don't want to remember, but there's a few I need to remember. I need to remember my grocery list when I go to the store. I don't want to remember all the time that I waste. Time is now getting to be a finite thing for me.

Maybe we can learn a thing or two about each other if I ramble on here.

I'm old, I'm married, I never wanted children, so I didn't have any. I always liked cats, so there's quite a few of them wandering around here. Yep, that's me. I'm the old lady who lives down the road, the one with all the cats.

I drank too much for too many years, and it's a miracle that my marriage made it through. I've been sober for 15 years, but I am still deeply ashamed of my drinking years. I guess I'll talk more about this sometime along the way. It just hurts too much tonight.

I smoked two packs a day for decades, but I quit two years ago. I quit because I wanted to see if I could do it. It was hard, but I did it! So far I haven't noticed food tasting better, or I that feel better, or any of the promises I was told would happen if I quit. My fingers aren't yellow from nicotine any more, that's about it. But if I ever hear that the bombs are falling, or I'm definitely going to die within XX number of months, I'm going to smoke again. But not until then, so I better not get hit by a bus.

My folks are long dead. My husband's folks have been gone for many, many years. Most of my friends from years ago are dead. (They all died naturally, so don't look at me like I'm the Grim Reaper.) Death doesn't scare me. I don't believe in an afterlife (don't start preaching to me, I'm athiest), so there isn't anything in which to be scared. I would feel guilty about leaving my husband because of the fact that I kicked the bucket. I guess if I find out I'm going to die, I'd better start cooking (between puffs) in order to fill the freezer up with meals for him to just heat & eat.

That's all for tonight. I hope I didn't bore y'all too much.

Things to remember: H*ll, I can't think of a d@mn thing right now.

Have a good night. I'm going to watch my story on Soapnet.


Owned By Cats

I wish my side of the family would quit having get-togethers for Xmas. I haven't gone to any of them for years, but they still keep inviting us (because that's what you're supposed to do). I don't like crowds of people, especially people I know. How am I supposed to remember all those grandkids of my siblings? Undoubtedly the only thing those kids have ever heard about me is that I used to be a drunk. I'm also the only non-believer, so I'm also the one who's going to Hell. (Actually, I've been to Hell, Michigan. It's a nice little place. I wouldn't mind visiting there again, someday.)

My husband's family are all dead, so they're no bother.

My husband and I have a nice quiet Xmas where we give each other what we each want. We eat what we want, when we want. The cats each get some tuna (the good stuff) and a little bit a cream (don't yell at me, the vet said it was OK once in a great while).

On Thanksgiving I cooked a 20 lb turkey and fed 17, although only 2 of those 17 were human. The rest were the indoor cats, outdoor stray cats, the neighbor's dog, and at least 3 opossums. Everyone loved the meal and wanted more.

Last year on Christmas Eve one of my cats, Liza, passed away. Liza was a very special kitty who was scared of most everyone and everything, except me. She, for some reason, absolutely adored me. I loved her fiercely, tenderly, devotedly. I was there with her when the light left her eyes, and she was looking directly at me. I miss her so much.

I'm going to go cry now.

Things to remember: My beautiful Liza.


Owned By Cats

I've noticed, from reading other journals here, that a surprising number of people suffer from insomnia.

I've had many sleepless nights, and haven't slept well for years. My problem is the initial "getting to sleep." I can lay for literally hours before I fall into sleep. My mind doesn't want to turn off. My thoughts are plagued with the most worthless things sometimes: like what I need for a certain recipe, or did I get the right change from a cashier. I've found, however, that if there is really loud, constant noise, I can fall asleep almost immedately. If I put on loud "white noise", bam, I'm asleep. It has to be so loud that I can't hear myself think. And I know that that's my problem: I think too much.

I am so envious of my husband. He can go to bed and fall asleep within 3 minutes. He goes to bed, I come out here and get on the computer for a while, then I read, watch my story, read some more. Finally when I yawn, I go to bed. And lay there. Sometime, usually just before my husband gets up, I'll sleep for a couple of hours.

I just read what I wrote. Sheesh, don't I have an exciting life? Actually I've had all the excitement that I ever want to have. I just want to live simply, feel well, pet my cats, and love my husband.

Things to remember: The Tonight Show starring Johnny Carson


Owned By Cats
The Fundamental Things Apply As Time Goes By

Mr. Black James Kid, in his thoughtful thread of the Wawa employee, gave this question:

"It makes me wonder if anyone besides myself and the person to whom I was to be sending e-mail to, do these kinds of things; if anyone else has these little ceremonies to remind them of friends and family that are far away. Or does everyone else just look at pictures instead?"

Every time I make potato soup, I think of my mother. Of course I make it like she made it (from scratch). It's comfort food, good solid satisfying comfort food. It tastes just as good on a hot day as it does on a cold day. I know why, it tastes so good, too: because of the memories that come along with the smells and taste. I read somewhere sometime that smells can bring back memories better than anything else. I know for sure that it helps.

Every June 23, for over 50 years, I've laid a yellow flower on the grave of my best friend from my schoolgirl years. Her favorite color was yellow, so she liked anything as long as it was yellow (except snow). She died in her sleep one night when she was 18 years old, they think that a blood vessel burst in her brain. I miss her. She made me laugh. I pay tribute to her memory. I think I'm probably the only person who does anymore.

When I eat salted, redskinned peanuts (the real kind, not the dry roasted), I think of my father. He loved these kind of peanuts. Every year after the corn had been harvested, my father would splurge on a 5 pound bag of these peanuts. He was in a good mood at that time of the year, so life seemed a little easier. So whenever I see these redskinned peanuts, especially fresh roasted, I buy a small bag and enjoy them with a smile.

My husband and I have a small, artificial xmas tree. We've had it for about 30 years, so you can imagine that it isn't the prettiest tree. But that tree is family now, so it will be our tree for the rest of our lives. We always put the same red cotton blanket around the base of the tree. My cat, Liza, used to love to sleep on a little corner of that red blanket under the tree, so we always left a space for her to sleep amongst the presents underneath. Liza isn't here this year (see the 2nd post in this thread), but her space is there in her memory. Oh how I wish I could see her sleeping there again. But that is not to be. (One of my other cats, Johnny, just came and licked the tear that was sliding down my cheek. Good kitty.)

These are just a few of the "ceremonies" in my life. I can think of a few of the counterside, but those should be left to another time. (It involves dancing on graves.)

So Black James Kid, thank you for your question. May your Tetley tea be hot and your pancakes sweet.

Things to remember: The year my father made me a small rocking chair for my xmas present. I was 6. I still have it. My cat, Wonderful, sleeps on its seat.


Owned By Cats
A Waste Of Oxygen

I've been a waste of oxygen these past two days. It's a good thing I don't have to pay for it (yet). I've done the sum total of: vacuum the house, and cook 2 meals. I've spent way too much time on the internet (found the end of it, btw ;) ). I watched a little TV (crap lately). But most of all: I read.

First I read all the magazines that came in this week: Harpers Bazaar, Los Angeles Magazine (I know, I know, I don't live anywhere near LA, but I like the magazine.), Readers Digest, Soap Opera Digest, TV Guide, National Geographic, Discover, Entertainment Weekly. Then I pulled out an old favorite paperback of mine, "Job: A Comedy of Justice." Then I remembered that I still had to read "Forgotten" by Faye Kellerman (I got the book a year ago and I keep forgetting that one, no joke), so I read that. I read the two Sunday newspapers that we get, also the two Saturday papers.

It's cold out, the wind has been blowing hard almost nonstop all weekend. It was a good weekend to read. So I did. Now I have a headache, I assume it's from reading too much.

My brother's wife called on Saturday morning. I didn't feel like answering the phone, and my husband hates phones, so she was privileged to be able to speak to my machine. I'm sure she preferred that to speaking directly to me anyway. She said she "just wanted to give us the invitation one more time to join the rest of the family for a holiday dinner [that night]." She lives just down the road from us, so I waited until I saw her drive by on her way to town, and then I called and left a message on her machine. I was very sweet (cough) and thanked her for the invitation, but we wouldn't be joining them and that I hoped she had a very happy holiday. I'm sure that she was just as relieved as I was that we didn't go to her dinner.

Before I go, I just want to say that I really enjoy the threads I've read here. They help me keep in touch with the world. Lately, besides my husband, I don't speak to many humans. I always have marched to a different drummer.

Things to remember: My favorite movie of all time is "Harvey."
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Owned By Cats

I've noticed quite a few people who are suffering from boredom around here. I guess I used to suffer from it, I really don't remember. I don't seem to suffer from it any longer. And I think the reason I don't suffer from boredom is a matter of perspective.

Case in point: The people I most notice suffering from boredom are significantly younger than I am. When they look forward into time, they can see for a seemingly infinite distance. When I look forward into time, I see the end of the road is just around the corner.

Now don't get me wrong: I've seen bored elderly people. I'm trying not to make a generalization, but I think in most cases the bored elderly have given up. I'm too stubborn for that. While I still have my mind I'm going to use it.

So in the "oldlady" way of looking at life: if you're young (relatively speaking, of course), it's natural to be bored at times. Just don't make a habit of it. Habits are nasty.

Also, age doesn't have a darn thing to do with sadness or agony or happiness. Unfortunately there are also downright mean people of all ages. Thank goodness that there are also some nice people of all ages.

Enough oldlady philosophy.

I got my first feedback tonight and it was positive. :) Thank you, you know who you are. You made me smile tonight.

Things to remember: When we were growing up at home (my parents' home) and we would have chicken for dinner, my 2 sisters and I used to argue about who would get a chicken leg. We all wanted one, but there were only two legs (of course). I was the youngest, and one time I was fast enough to grab one of the legs before my oldest sister grabbed it. I bit into the leg and was happily munching away when my sister, still ticked off that I got the leg and she didn't, leaned over and pointed at the chicken leg in my hand. "Do you see that black thing there, the thing that looks like a string (but isn't a string)?" I replied that yes, I saw it. She then said "That's a blood vein." I stopped eating. The thought of eating a blood vein absolutely sickened me. I've never eaten a chicken leg again. I still eat meat, I haven't given that up yet. Yes I know that there are other blood veins in other meat. I'm sure my sister would still be willing (even eager) to point them out to me.

Take care, be good.


Owned By Cats
And to all a good night

I'm sitting here watching the snow fall. We're on the very outskirts of the storm and are only expecting an inch or so of the white crap. I'm glad I don't have to go anywhere. My husband is asleep in bed. I'll probably fall asleep right about the time the cats decide that it's time for tuna and cream. They know tomorrow is tuna and cream day. I've had the tuna cans stacked on the kitchen counter all day and they keep jumping up on the counter to see if, by some miracle, the cans had magically opened yet.

I've been thinking of my Liza all day today, remembering her wide eyes and how she liked to bump noses with me. I held the little box that contains her ashes and shed a few tears. One of my other cats, Kitty (the one with the heart of gold) came and gave me a couple of love nudges just when I needed them most.

If you celebrate the season or hate it, please remember to drive carefully, talk quietly, and be good to each other.

Things to remember: My mother made pink peppermint potato candy as a treat for xmas. It may sound awful, but it was really very good.


Owned By Cats
No, I'm not dead

I've been lax in keeping this little thread up-to-date. I haven't forgotten about y'all. Sometimes I have too much to say and don't quite know how to say it, so I don't say anything.

I received a tortilla maker for xmas from my husband, so I made tortillas from scratch for the first time on Sunday. They turned out so good! On Saturday night, I put a roast in the crockpot with some chopped onion, homecanned tomatos, chopped green bell pepper, green salsa, garlic powder, oregano, chili powder. I let that stew on low all night and half of Sunday so that I just had to flake the meat with a fork. Some of that concoction and some cheddar on the homemade tortillas and we ate very, very well.

I'll write more later, I really just wanted to check in and let you know that I'm still breathing.

Things to remember: When I was young, I swear there were only a handful of spices that were used in cooking: salt, pepper (modestly used), sugar, and if we were good: cinnamon.

Be good, don't drive if you've been imbibing.



Owned By Cats
The New Year

I want to wish each one of you gentle readers the best new year possible. Please remember to talk calmly, shut doors softly, and drive soberly.

I have the feeling, just a feeling mind you, that this is going to be a very hard year for nearly all of us. Prices will be high and tempers will tend to be short. In terms of the whole world situation, I don't think I've ever been as disheartened and fearful to start a new year. I hope I'm proven wrong.

So I think it's doubly important that we keep our wits about us and look at an overall situation instead of fretting about the small stuff, even in everyday life.

Until the next time I post, rest assured that I'll be at home, petting my cats, loving my husband, and watching my soap. I think I'll turn off the news channels altogether.

Things to remember: The Saturday morning in December, 1941 when I learned that my cousin had died, well over a week previous, on the Arizona at the Pearl Harbor attack. I wasn't close to him, but I remember that he was quite a happy guy whenever I saw him. I know that his mother was really shocked and upset over his death. She never really got over it and morned him right up until she died 25 years later.



Owned By Cats
In case you already read the post that was here originally

I've edited the post that was originally here.

The only person you'll ever be able to depend on in this lifetime is yourself.

When push comes to shove, when things can't get any worse, you have to talk to yourself and get yourself through it. If you depend on anyone or anything too much, you're going to be disappointed.

Some people turn to religion (obviously not me). They put their hopes and their dreams and their money and all of their trust in their "god."

Some people have to be surrounded by people. They depend on other people to fill a void that they find in their lives. They are so often disappointed.

I see in you a lot of what was in me, years ago. I tried to drink the feelings away. But the booze didn't do what I wanted it to do. I wanted to be numb and to sleep. It didn't take long to become dependent on it. I think I spent the good part of 10 years in a constant state of legally drunk. I was a "functioning alcoholic." My gall bladder went bad and I needed emergency surgery, that's when my dirty little secret alcoholism came to light for everyone (even my husband wasn't aware of the extent that I drank). And then I found out what hell really was: the d.t.'s (that's another post for another day).

I was told that I couldn't quit drinking without help. So I tried AA, and quickly found out that it wasn't for me. I tried a psychologist and was told I was basically scum because I didn't follow the road that society dictates that I should follow. I then decided that I was given very bad advice. So I depended on myself to help me.

I used to have quite a few friends, but I lost them all when I quit drinking. Actually I lost some of them when I was drinking, but after I quit, everyone was gone but my husband and cats. My husband supports me, but I have to depend on myself. The only unconditional love I've ever encountered is from my cats.

Things to remember: My sister-in-law's (the other one, not the one mentioned above, this one was worse) smug face when she saw me for the first time after my gall-bladder surgery. She said "I always knew you were no good." She died of cancer 3 years later. I didn't go to the funeral. But I have visited her grave (see an above post about graves).

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Owned By Cats
Viva Las Vegas

Today, I made airplane reservations for my husband and I to go to Las Vegas. We're going to go in May.

We go to Las Vegas once a year and we usually have a good time. We don't gamble much, I'd be surprised if we put $10 altogether in the one-armed bandits. We like to sightsee and eat at the buffets. The Bellagio and the Aladin have good buffets, but we also like the Orleans buffet.

We usually see a show (got to make sure it's got some topless dancers in the show, that keeps my husband awake). There's one at the MGM Grand that we haven't seen yet, La Femme, so I'll probably make reservations to see that one this time.

We'll stay at the Luxor, because we like the Egyptian motiff (did I spell that correctly?). We stay there during the week, so there aren't a bunch of little ones to dodge. We also like to stay in the Pyramid section of the hotel and have a room facing the airport (east). That way I can watch the planes coming and going when I can't sleep at night.

It's easy to avoid alcohol in Las Vegas, because I have no desire for it (I may be dumb but I'm not stupid, one case of the d.t.'s was all it took to take away the desire.) But cigarette smoke....it's like perfume. I'll sit down at a slot machine next to someone who's smoking just to get whiff of my old friends, Tar & Nicotine. Someday...someday...and I'd better not get hit by a bus first.

We rent a car and go to places like Hoover Dam and Red Rock, because I like to see those places. My husband would rather be walking around the malls and casinos on the strip, but he knows I can't keep up with him. He's a walker, he can walk for miles and does so everyday. He can't hear worth a damn, but he can walk. I've got arthritis in my feet and knees, so I walk at a much slower pace (and I've got the hearing of a cat. :) ).

So now I know I won't be sleeping tonight, because I've got myself worked up about making those reservations. I've got a book, "American Gods," that I've been saving to read, so maybe I'll read that tonight after "Forensic Files" is done at 2AM.

I guess I'd better go now, the weather is on the local news. It's supposed to turn cold at the end of next week.

Things to remember: My husband and I went to Florida in 1963 and we saw the waterskiers at Cypress Gardens. We also saw Miami and we wound up at Bradenton where we visited his mother. No air conditioning anywhere. Except for the waterskiing show, it was a very uncomfortable trip.



Owned By Cats
In Dreams

I think that Roy Orbison had a song called "In Dreams." I don't know what the lyrics are, I just thought of the title when I was trying to decide on a title for this little diatribe. I'm ticked off, and it all has to do with dreams, the kind you have when you sleep.

I don't remember my dreams very often. But when I do remember a dream that I had, I usually remember it for a good long time. I usually have one of two reactions to dreams: somewhat good or they scare me half to death.

About a week ago, I had a dream about my father. My father has been dead for over 40 years. But there he was sitting at the kitchen table (the kitchen table that was in my parents' house when we all lived there when I was a girl) in my dream. I sat down on the other side of the table (in "my chair", he was in "his chair"). I asked him how he was doing. He grumbled like usual.

In other words, he was the same ornery old sob that he usually was. I think when he was alive that he was manic/depressive (I think that's called bipolar now), because he had mood swings. At times he would be so down and out that he would sleep in the barn and not talk to any of us. That would go on for a week or two and then he would sleep back in the house again. He never really had any high "manic" phases, not like I've seen described elsewhere in my readings. Anyway, I'm getting lost on a tangent here. Let me get back on track.

Back to the dream: He told me he wanted a cup of coffee. I got him a cup. He sat there and drank it, scalding hot like usual, and didn't say a word. I said "I haven't seen you in years and you don't have anything to say?" He looked at me and said "It hasn't been years for me, I just talked to you yesterday in my way of time." I did a mental stepback. He was right, I talked to him the day before he dropped dead. (He did, literally, drop dead. His heart just stopped and he was gone and he fell to the ground.) Then he said to me, "You look old." I said "I am old!" He grimaced and said "Good." I said "What do you mean by that?" And then the dream was done, everything vanished and I woke up.

I can live with the dream, it was confusing and frustrating, but it was good to see his face and hear his voice again.

Then today, my husband said to me, "I had a dream." My husband never remember his dreams, but this one he did and I was so jealous when I heard it! He dreamed of my cat, Liza. He said that Liza came walking up to him and nuzzled his pantleg. He petted her and then she walked away with a little black&white dog. End of dream.

First off, he hasn't said a thing about Liza since she died. I'm always the one who mentions her. Second, he never remembers his dreams, but this one he did remember. Third, I want to dream of Liza! Just a 20 second dream and I'd be happy. I'm hoping that writing these thoughts down may bring out a dream of her for me. It probably won't, but it doesn't hurt to try.

Things to remember: When I was a really small little girl, my folks still had one work horse left on the farm. The horse's name was Mary. She was retired from the plow, and her partner horse had died. She stayed in the pasture out back of the barn, unless it was snowing and then she was inside the barn. She had worked hard all her life and she lived out her remaining years in relative comfort. Mary died a natural death when I was about 10 years old. My father buried her in the back of the pasture, past the pasture fence, but still on the farm's land.



Owned By Cats
My favorite movie quote

I don't have much to say today, I'm more in a reading mood than in a writing mood.

My favorite quote from a movie comes from my favorite movie, "Harvey."
'Elwood', my mother always called me Elwood, 'Elwood, in this life you can be Oh So Smart, or Oh So Pleasant.' For years I was smart, I recommend pleasant.
One of my favorite books of all time, fiction-wise, is "Job: A Comedy of Justice." Anyone with a distaste for organized religion will get a kick out of that book. My favorite nonfiction book is "The American Way of Death, Revisited" by Mitford. I read her original book, "The American Way of Death" back in the 1960s. There's an education in those books that you won't learn in the regular school or collegiate system.

Things to remember: I've been keeping track of "All My Children" since the first day that it came on the air in 1970. Erica Kane hasn't aged very much in 33 years.



Owned By Cats
Senior Citizen Sex...

...You're not going to learn about it from me. I keep some things (a lot of things, actually) private. So now you all can breathe a sigh of relief and calm your finger that's twitching to hit your backarrow button to back out of this thread fast.

Things to Remember: Like I said, I keep some things private. :blush:

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Owned By Cats
I fell

I didn't want to put this post with the one above because they are two entirely different subjects.

Yesterday afternoon a cold front when through the area and the temperatures dropped very quickly below freezing. Some snow came along with it, but melted on the warm walkway and then quickly froze to ice. I ventured out to get the mail from the mailbox and was very careful on my way down. I got the mail and was making my way back to the house when suddenly my left foot slide out in front of me and thus my right foot slide out in back of me. I almost did the "splits," but I wound up on my right side.

I'm 68 years old. Falls have a tendency of breaking hips in people my age and older. I was lucky, I only have very badly pulled muscles (I still have those! Yes, I was shocked to learn that myself.) and black, green, purple, and blue marks up and down my legs and my right arm. My husband saw me go down, came out (very carefully) and helped me. My neighbor saw us out there and called his nephew, a paramedic. The next thing I know the ambulance and police were there (the police come for any emergency call around here, we're in a tiny little town). I got taken to the hospital, xrayed and poked and prodded and sent home. They wanted to give me pain pills, but I told them I couldn't take them, so I got some heavy-duty industrial-strength ibuprophen to take with me.

Now I'm a tender, sore, bruised, tired, feeling a little punchy, insomniac. I want to find something to laugh at, but laughing hurts, too, so I guess I'll just smile. :smile:

Things to remember: I fell down some stairs once, about 30 years ago. I had a black & blue fanny, but I just walked away from the fall like it was nothing. I guess those days are gone.



Owned By Cats
A Secret

First, I'd like to thank all of you who sent such nice private messages to me because you were concerned about my fall. I really appreciate the messages. It also amazes me that people of all ages and backgrounds read this journal. You all are truly "gentle readers."

May I tell you a secret? Something I've never told anyone before? If I tell you, it won't be a secret anymore, but I'm willing to take that chance. I'm willing to take the chance that from now on you may think I've gone off the deep end.

Here goes.

When a flower blooms, I say thank you to it. When the sunset is lovely, or even if it's not lovely, I thank it. If I hear a bird singing outside, I express my appreciation. When the leaves are falling from the trees, I tell the trees that I appreciated their season. Just before the first frost of the fall, I tell my garden thank you for all the delicious food it has provided for my husband and I. There are many more instances, but these few come to mind right now.

Some people thank their "god" for these things. I go directly to the source and express my appreciation (though silently in some cases, especially where discretion is needed).

I've truly meant every single "thank you" that I've ever expressed to anyone or anything.

Things to remember: My mother's last words were: "It all went so fast, my life went so fast, where did the time go?" I don't want to have my last words to end in a question mark. When my time comes, I just want to say "thank you" and expire.



Owned By Cats
oldlady vs. oldcat

Three of my indoor cats are over the age of 12, which makes them "old" in cat years. One of these geriatric wonders, Johnny, is a female. (Now don't get on me for giving male names to females and female names to males: They Are My Cats!)

Johnny has developed some arthritic spurs on her back knees and she's also got a little arthritis in her lower back. The vet told me I could give her 1/2 of a baby aspirin (the 81mg kind that some adults take on daily basis to keep their blood thin or some such thing) every 4th day to help her, because she's uncomfortable. The effect that happens to her about one hour after I give her the 1/2 aspirin is amazing. The only way I can describe it is hyperactive. I saw almost the same effect happen to some women who took perscription diet pills back in the 1960s.* She wants to eat, take a bath, eat, furiously take a bath, chew on her tail, eat, take a bath, etc. etc. etc. for about 4 hours. And her disposition isn't the nicest, either. But my oh my, she does feel better when she gets her aspirin.

Today was aspirin day, so Johnny got her aspirin dose at about noon. By the time my story came on at 1, she was hungry, and so the dance began. After my story was over, I wanted to lay down and hopefully take a nap. Johnny and Wonderful and Kitty decided that the bed was just where they wanted to be, also. Wonderful and Kitty settled down right away, with Wonderful in the crook of my back and Kitty in the crook of my knees. Johnny was on the other side of the bed and decided to take her bath and do her tail chewing. This annoyed me, I have a hard enough time trying to get some rest and I didn't need her shaking the bedcovers. She stared at me, I stared at her, neither of us giving an inch. Wonderful and Kitty decided that maybe the sofa would be a better napping place and slunk out of the room. Johnny resumed her bath, so I slowly sat up and picked her up (I'm still pretty slow from the fall) and put her on the nice, upholstered, comfortable chair near the bed. Then I laid back down. She jumps off the chair and resumes her place on the bed and also resumed her bath. I am not amused. She just ignores me. I stare at her. She stares at me.

I get up, move to the nice, upholstered, comfortable chair. I pull a blanket over me and rest my head on the back of the chair.

I lost the battle of wills with a cat.

It only makes sense that I lost. I also lost my heart to her when I rescued her and her kitten (Wonderful) from a snow storm 13 years ago, brought them inside, and made them part of the family here in my house.

Things to remember: I had a cat named Greg (yes, a female) who was diabetic. I talked the vet into letting me try oral insulin on her. She took her 1/2 insulin pill every day, for years, like a real trooper. She lived to be 14. She was an amazing cat, I swear she understood everything I said to her. I miss her dearly. I was truly fortunate to have known her.


*Back in the 1960s it seemed a popular way to lose weight was by asking your friendly family doctor for some diet pills. I'm not exactly sure what was in those pills, because I never took them (somewhere deep in the recesses of my mind I knew better than to mix booze and pills). But I knew plenty of women who cleaned their houses nearly all day and all night long because they had soooo much energy. I know some of the women had a very hard time trying to wean themselves off those pills after they got their desired results, or their families threatened to evict them. It wasn't until the middle 1970s that that fad was made illegal.


Owned By Cats
Absolute quiet

It's snowing outside, and it's also bitter cold. My furnace is having a hard time keeping up, especially since it's also windy outside. The windchill is between -10 and -15.

I've always noticed how much quieter it is when it snows outside. The obvious reason is because the snow muffles noise. It's such a calming effect to have things quieter, at least to me.

One time, and one time only, I experienced absolute silence. It's absolutely stunning and a little scary to experience. I was at the Tabor Dam in northcentral Montana. Most of the land right by the dam is owned by the government, and there is a small campground near the dam. This is not an easy place to get to. You have to travel quite a few miles off the beaten track to get to this campground. I imagine that in warm weather, quite a few campers may arrive at that little place. But when I was there, it was only with my husband, no one else was around for miles. The dam wasn't doing a dam thing and silent. There was no wind. There were no birds. It was cold, but not bitter cold. My husband and I were walking around just to get a feel of the place when I stopped. My husband looked at me and asked me "What?" I said "Listen." He was quiet. He looked at me with astonishment on his face. He didn't hear it also. The only thing there was to hear was the blood rushing through our ears. I knew that I would probably never have a moment like that again so we just stood there, not moving, for quite a long time. Listening to nothing and everything inside of us. It was an amazing thing.

Things to remember: What I just told you: absolute silence in a noisy world.



Owned By Cats
Farewell, Black James Kid

I'll miss your posts. You gave me much to ponder upon through the past many months. Thank you.

I wish you well.

Things to remember: Black James Kid's introspective thread of his life.



Owned By Cats
Goodbye is not yet to be

My husband said I should come back. KT asked me to come back. Gypsy asked me to come back. Sugar seemed sad to see me go.

Here's what happened. A relative of mine came upon these journals through, of course, the radio story about Ali's journal. This relative, who happens to be a grandson of my brother, recognized me by my journal. I've been way too honest, I guess. Anyway. my sister-in-law (my brother could care less) bangs on my door at 7AM yesterday. I had just managed to go to sleep about 2 hours before. My husband was up, and she charged in and thought she was going to give him an earful. My husband knew about this journal from the beginning (actually, even before that, when I was thinking about starting this journal). He let her rant for a bit, until I could pull myself together and make myself presentable.

She lit into me about "airing dirty laundry for all the world to see." I said, "Who besides a handful of people would know that it was me writing?" She said, "Everybody that I'm going to tell." She then lit into me about "you must still be a drunk because who else would write such crap." That hit me in my sore spot. I've been sober for over 15 years now. My husband told her to leave. But the damage had been done. I fell into a very dark and lonely mood. I really, really wanted a cigarette, but I didn't smoke. I drank diet coke and surrounded myself with my cats. I wrote the "goodbye" here, shut off my messages, and shut the computer off.

This morning, after no sleep, my husband fired up the computer and said "Get on." I didn't. After my story, when I should have napped but couldn't, he told me again to get on the internet. I said no. He got on the internet for a while, and then said to me earlier tonight "You have to see something." I came over and he showed me KT's, and Gypsy's and Sugar's journals. I cried. He said "Get back and write. Forget about (sister-in-law). The one way you can really get her goat is to keep writing. You did nothing wrong."

So I'm here. I'll open up my messaging again. I'm sorry if I hurt anyone's feelings here.

Thank you, KT, Gypsy, Sugar, and to anyone else who tried to message me.

(sister-in-law) if you're reading (and I know you are), kiss my ass.

Things to remember: I need to remember that they can't use the drunk card against me anymore, even though I'm ashamed of that period of my life.

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