Tag Archives: aminals

Golden Eyed Kitty

Friday I’m in love… (well, every day, but I like that song).

This is my sweet baby Gatsby and his beautiful eyes of gold.

Happy Friday!

Advertisements

So Many Photos!

I’m a bit compulsively organized, as I may have mentioned previously. So, it was already bugging me that I had a giant box full of disorderly photos. They were of my children and my pets, my exes and my parents, ancient relatives, random friends, cakes and flowers, and whatever else, all spanning like a hundred freaking years. There were “leftovers” that hadn’t made it into my cute memory albums, duplicates I couldn’t bear to dump, and sepia shots of strange people who possibly are related to me.

I tried not to think about this too much, even though the box was lurking right there in my hall closet like a sleeping demon.

But then my former sister-in-law gave one of my daughters another big box of photos consisting of all the photos I had given my in-laws over the years while they were alive. My daughters took the photos they wanted and gave me the rest, which was a lot. A lot.

Now what was I supposed to do? Add this box to the other, so they could weaponize against me? Hah. I know how that works: soon my closet would turn into the devil’s disaster zone. No thanks. Only one option ~ I bought big envelopes and am sorting all the photos into categories and filing them away.

It’s taking me longer than I expected. Some of the photos provoke memories that I stop and linger over for a minute or three. And some I struggle to categorize. My girls look very similar as babies; I’m happy when they’re both in the same shot so I can toss that one in the “sisters” envelope.

Now everything is on our phones and in “the cloud.” Don’t think I’m not making folders there. Are you kidding? My cloud is totes foldered up.

I am the Goddess of Folders!

Not Superstitious… Much

I don’t have the “normal” superstitions; in fact, I love black cats in particular. They’re so gorgeous! Well, all kittehs are adorable imo. I don’t fear walking under ladders, stepping on cracks, or the number thirteen. All my life, if someone told me a thing was “bad luck” I’d scoff at it.

However, I do have my own ideas about… shall we say “positive and negative energy.” I’ve noticed that if I use certain words or types of speech, unpleasantness tends to result soon afterward even though the result seems unconnected from my words. No, I’m not going to poast them here or tell you what they are! They exist. That is all. And I avoid them.

Since that is not logical, it qualifies as a superstition, I suppose.

There are certain numbers I associate with positivity, so I try to keep aligned with them when I can. But no numbers are bad.

I enjoy keeping things in my personal space organized in certain ways. Sometimes it’s at right angles, but not always. One of the key factors is that my space looks uncluttered and I can quickly find my things. But this isn’t a hard and fast rule because I do have some spots that may appear “cluttered,” yet to me they are arranged pleasantly. Forex, I’ve been keeping more greeting cards on bookshelves. I don’t know why ~ maybe it’s because people have been giving me really pretty ones the last several years. Also, one of my daughters has hand-drawn some.

I’m a big proponent of tossing stuff in the trash, except for the few things I want to hang onto forever. Why? Idk. Maybe I suspect they’re good luck charms.

Age > Abundance

Summer is the season of plenty! From all the juicy ripe fruits available at the market to the plethora of outdoor concerts, there’s abundant deliciousness and fun to be had on a daily basis.

And yet… and yet… I find myself just as tired after work when the evening is warm and lovely as when it was dark and cold. I still don’t feel like doing much except going home to my sweet kitty and reading or watching a movie on Prime.

On weekends? Well, the weather may be perfect for the beach or a BBQ, but I still have to do laundry, dust, vacuum, grocery shop, etc., just the same as I did back in January. Gatsby’s litterbox does not take a summer vacay, unfortunately.

If I were a decade or three younger and single, I’m sure I’d be enjoying this great SoCal summer abundance ~ in fact, I can vaguely remember doing just that when I first moved out here in the 1980s. But, alas, I am old. Age > abundance.

Meow Movie

I’m not obsessed with my cat. Seriously! I was just about to start writing a pome using today’s prompt words, something about my broken heart and trees in a storm or some effing thing yada, but then I saw I had a Google alert and scampered over there to check it out. They had made me a movie. But not just any movie ~ they took all the photos of Gatsby and collaged them together with music and meows and it is The Best Thing Ever.

LOOK AT THIS. IS IT NOT THE BEST MOST ADORABLE WONDERFUL MOVIE THAT EVER WAS?!?! I was so sad today and now I am floating. ❤ ❤

https://photos.app.goo.gl/bRxYf34g1rogJfbn6

(Click to follow the link and then again to biggify and play.)

Okay, maybe I’m a little obsessed with him. But he is my soulkitty. ^..^

Mysticat

My kitty is quite sleek and physical,
His spirit is playful and quizzical;
Yet at times he turns strange and mystical,
Staring at ghosties invisible,
Leaping like a lion invincible,
Then cuddling like a baby angelical.

IMG_1708

Ascending

Snake

Anticipation is a cold snake
Coiled on a damp rock,
Waiting for the sun.

Anticipation is that moment
Right before your kiss,
When the world spins in slomo…
Our breathing suspended,
Two souls connecting.

Anticipation is the hiss
Of butter in the pan,
The scent of onion in the air,
The meal that you missed,
The text that wasn’t there.

Anticipation is the jagged line
Between bliss and despair,
Hugging the cliff
As the Devil and the deep
Blue sea became one.
Jump, they said,
And I fell.

Anticipation is a broken snake,
Red-eyed, uncurled,
Boiling with rage,
Ascending from Hell.

Menagerie

Shamelessly mirroring one of the blogs I follow, I’m going to combine prompts in a wild menagerie.

File_001 (40)

Last night I was riveted to Twitter as I followed the saga of #MPRRACCOON. If you’ve been away from the news, this was about a plucky lil “trash panda” who got trapped on the ledge of an office building in St. Paul, MN, and when some workers tried to rescue her, she scampered onto the UBS tower next door and started climbing up up up. Now, some of you may remember the story I poasted a while back of a raccoon who killed one of our parking lot cats. Since then, I’ve not had a favorable view of the creatures. But all that changed yesterday as I (along with loads of other folks) rooted for the Twin Cities bandit to make it through her ordeal safely. We held our collective breath as she began to climb again, hoping she wouldn’t plummet to the ground. She stopped, went down, and seemed to be done for the night. I went to bed not knowing her fate and checked Twitter as soon as I woke this morning, so happy to see she had made it to the roof!

Speaking of buildings, the other night I had a very weird dream. I was in a house with my daughter and we couldn’t find our cats. So, naturally we decided we needed to look in our other house. I love that in my dreams I have not only one, but two houses! Yay me. We walked outside into the snow ~ apparently it was normal for there to be snow in southern California, but it wasn’t that cold. We didn’t have coats on and just tramped through the snow in our regular shoes. Crunch, crunch. We did remark on it, like oh yeah, it snows now ever since the something. I wish I could remember what “the something” was in my dream. I’m sure it was important. Anyway. We entered house number two, and there were the kitties. But inside this house everything was all snowy. I guess roof construction hadn’t caught up with “the something” yet.

The most vivid dream I ever had was when I was around 7 years old. I was at the zoo and a wolf either got loose from an exhibit or I entered his cage by mistake. He trapped me in a corner and ripped out my throat and I died. I know you’re not supposed to die in dreams, but I did. Then I woke up and had strep throat. This is not to bash wolves. I have huge respect for them and wildlife in general.

That’s it for the prompts, except one, and nope I am not introducing zoobloggery to my repertoire here ~ it’s just a coinkydink that all the snippets have to do with aminals this time. Soon we will be back to noodling about movies, food, and migraines, patting myself on the back again for leaving Facebook and dating sites, whining about writing, etc. You know, all the topics that make this blog so darned irresistible to fans everywhere. Until then… mwah!

Misty Memories

Butterfly

It’s fitting on this last day of the Daily Prompt, which is retrospective, that I take a look back through the mists of time to the beginning of my blogging experience.

I started on a whim in September 2003 with Ultrablog, since my fellow writers from Usenet seemed to be jumping in. The name came about because my Usenet handle was Ultraviolet and I tried to stick with a purple motif, though the details changed. I had butterflies and various templates on blogger, and then I bought my domain ~ and I even purchased an artsy template once when I had loads of hits per day. I never monetized any of my blogs however. Too much work.

My Ultrablog topics ran the gamut. Opining on funny pieces of news, poasting about aminals, sharing family events & pics, mocking things I found online, offering up Sunday word games for fans, etc. I jabbered fairly frequently about writing and my writing progress, or the lack thereof. I was fairly open in calling out people who could have recognized themselves in my takedowns, but mostly I sailed through okay.

But I got into a flamewar over pitb*lls, which became insane, and I wanted to delete those poasts and some comment threads. I ended up ruining my comment numbering system and couldn’t get it right again. This drove me bananas. I decided it was time to archive Ultrablog and start a new, lighter blog with no flaming.

Thus was born Cats, Cupcakes & Shooze, the most boring blog in Blogville. It didn’t last long, maybe a year, and I didn’t even bother archiving it. Around the same time, my mom was dying, so I began a private blog to record my thoughts and feelings about the situation, and to get support from close friends. I still have that blog archived.

For around a year or so, I was blogless. IKR? But I was in a relationship I couldn’t talk about, going thru a divorce, still upset about my mom, etc., and it seemed pointless to start another blog when I’d have to self-censor about so many topics. I was very careful on all the other social media too. But ultimately I missed blogging too much and revved up this WordPress account and my domain name.

At first, I poasted only poetry, song lyrics, book reviews, cupcakes pics, etc. But then in the summer of 2011 my divorce became final, and a few months later my unspeakable romantic relationship crashed. After that, I felt freer to poast as I pleased, with very few limits. That said, I frequently delete poasts I don’t like having around, but that’s my own choice. Only once I deleted a few poasts upon request.

People gravitate to personal stories ~ I know I do. That’s how we connect with strangers on the internet, by glimpses into each other’s lives, shared interests, mutual points of caring. I don’t want to read some blogger’s opinion on the news headlines. Boring! I said this all the time on Facebook ~ why are you peeps regurgitating CNN at me? I know how to read the news. I’d rather hear about a fun new restaurant you found or something cute your dog did, or even that you stubbed your toe, so I can offer sympathy.

I always tell myself to poast more about writing and read serious writers, but I enjoy so many things that I keep adding “non-writer” bloggers to my feed anyway. I add bloggers who mostly poast photos of flowers. I love flowers! And kitties! And sunsets. And doggies scampering on beaches. And travel stories even though I don’t travel. And philosophy. And movie reviews. And comedy! There are so many wonderful things to love in this world. But if you poast dark sad twisted poetry, I’ll probably love that too.

Fifteen years of blogging, more or less. Wow.

I think we’re up to date.

~*~

The Daily Prompt: Retrospective

The Story Is Everything

H&M

One of my friends asked about The Wedding on Twitter. She was developing a slight interest but was still perplexed at the intense fascination it held for some people, mostly women a little older than herself. I fall into that group. Now, I’ve not been obsessed with The Wedding itself; in fact, I found the relentless coverage as irritating as anything else the “news” media decides I must have shoved in my face 24/7, whether it’s the KarJenner baby mama drama BS or that horrible man’s lawyers’ lawyers’ lawyers’ lawyers.

However. I loved the story of Diana (and cried at the tragedy). Her story kept me vaguely interested in her children all these years. William and Kate’s story was sweet, but the Meghan Markle story is fascinating. Everything I learn about Meghan is fabulous. She’s a proud and accomplished feminist! She went to Northwestern! She has a rescue beagle! I think she is utterly gorgeous and her mother is gorgeous too. I adored seeing the dresses and silly hats on the royals and celebs at the wedding and after-party. (I didn’t watch the actual ceremony ~ I’m not big on vids.) And the children were adorable! Meghan’s little doggie rode with the Queen, omgawd!

And I clicked on bunches of pics that “proved” Meghan and Harry were in super duper lurve because of all their PDA, which is generally Not Done by royals but they don’t care. They’re so cute and wonderful, proving that soul mates exist in this scary terrible world. It’s the perfect time to be reminded of that. Yes, I have examples of soul mates in my own life, but this is different because it’s a story for the world to witness as one.

This is why people love a fantasy. This is why romance novels outsell every other genre. We want to believe in the love story. We want to believe in magic and romance. We want the fairy tale, the prince and the princess, the horses, the gowns, the flowers, the kiss that lasts a lifetime, all of it.

We want the story.