New Year's Review and Handbag Power



I love this!  The ladies at Lockheart sent this out for New Year's Day and I couldn't agree with them more (especially the ones with handbag and dogs).  The bottom has been cut off of this copy, which said, "Pay it forward."  While I agree with the concept, I have a difficult time with the tired phrasing.  I know!  Let it go!  However, for me, it's right up there with, "That's so random" and "If you will."  But, there you have it.




The chopped off copy bothered me so much I didn't post this on New Year's as planned, but it still works for me.  If you're one of those who enjoy training or taunting yourself with resolutions, this is a good time to reflect on what's worked and what hasn't and, perhaps, reassess.  Good luck and change that handbag!

Art Journaling With Snobs

Kathy & I like to go to art classes every once in a while.  It's nice to do something creative, especially with your hands.  We went to an art journaling class last spring or fall (honestly, sometimes time blurs for me), which promised to be a lot of fun.  The teacher had all of the materials we needed and she gave us prompts for the pages we created.  There were about four women who knew each other and a couple of women who came alone and then there was me and Kathy.  We are always so excited to get messy and create and spend time chatting; unfortunately, we show up and everyone is looking a little dour.  We enthusiastically say "hi" to everyone and introduce ourselves to the teacher and then proceed to sit down.  I suppose we were chatting to ourselves and then trying to connect with our neighboring classmates, but let's talk about talking to a brick wall or a rock.  The gal next to me had a very stoney personality and the woman next to Kathy wasn't really having it.  Whatever, we aren't fazed.  This is supposed to be a fun class even if the women here are really very serious, especially the woman next to me.  She hoarded the materials she wanted and then proceeded to bend over her project and work on it, without a word--very reminiscent of the classmate who uses her entire arm and torso to cover her paper so no one will "cheat" off of her.  It's as if the rest of us didn't exist.  It was actually pretty remarkable how little contact she made with the rest of the class.

The other ladies were serious but in a different manner.  They wanted what they wanted when they wanted it and seemed to pitch a little hissy fit if their materials weren't available or if they were unable to accomplish the technique they desired.  Up and down, searching for their "perfect" ephemera and bumping the already shakey card tables.  It was no problem when they did it.  There was no apology or even acknowledgement that they could be disrupting others.  However, when I stood up and reached across the table to get a different pen and accidentally bumped the table when I sat back down you would think I committed a very horrible crime.  No joke.  I felt very bad and immediately apologized, but the woman across from me held me in an icy glare for a long time (a throw down kind of glare--intense).  This is very same woman who kept bumping the table earlier but didn't seem to realize it.  Finally, I could take her insolence no more and I very firmly & slowly repeated, "I'm sorry!" and continued to look at her until she looked down.  I know, I could've and should've risen above it but I didn't.  I was really tired of the pissy kitty club and the "rules apply to you but not to me" parade.  Kathy and I came to class like a couple of labs who've just been told their going on a car ride--very excited and super friendly to anyone who crossed our paths.  For the non-dog readers, Labs, in general, are the meeters and the greeters of the dog world--happy, happy creatures who run all about and investigate in a good-natured sort of way.  This lady was like a cat walking up to a dog (a good natured one or one used to cats), that swats the dog for no real good reason and then looks at the dog with the attitude of "whatch you gonna do 'bout it?"  Pissy.  Kitty.  The kind of cat who's always getting the squirt bottle by its person because it does whatever it wants, just because.

Here's the thing, we are talking art journaling class--this isn't some art masterpiece course, it isn't even a course!  It was a simple, fun workshop to explore one's creative side.  That's all folks.  Hate to burst your bubble.  It's as if this lady was shopping at Kmart, expecting to find something on the level of Saks.  Ain't happening, so you probably should work with what you have and relax!  Have some fun, for crying out loud.  Life is a little too short to have a throw-down with me about bumping a table.  My table bump was so subtle that Kathy, who was sitting next to me, didn't even notice.  She couldn't figure out what was going on.  To be honest, neither could I.

We left with some journal pages that we were pleased with and some that we weren't, but we were o.k. with that.  When class was over, we thanked the teacher and left, while the other ladies were still whining that they didn't finish or they weren't happy with x or y.  Crazy labs gleefully left the building while pissy kitties stayed behind, perhaps looking for approval from the teacher.  Who knows.  Next time, I promise I won't bite the bait.

Mrs. B

Since Buddy's been gone, the cats have "moved into" our yard.  They stroll, run, hunt, snoop, frolick.  There is barely any urgency to vacate when they see us, whereas before they were just a blurr of color.  That's because Buddy has caught more than his fair share of cats, much to my dismay.  I have to admit that while I'm an animal lover, cats are not at the top of my list.  Probably because I'm severely allergic to them.  Despite that, there have been some cats that I've formed great attachments to. 

When we first moved into our current home, our realtor said to us, "Oh, by the way...the house comes with a cat."  Wha-what?!  No, no, no!  That can't be!  NO!  Allegedly a "stray" that the family took to feeding.  Jon and I just looked at each other.  I'm thinking they didn't want to bring it along on their next house flip.  We'll never know, but we decided she was a girl--very cute, black and white cat, with a nearly silent meow.

Our house sat empty for a few months while we tried to sell our other one.  We'd go and work on it in the evenings and slowly move small items in.  One night I was in the kitchen doing something and I felt like I was being watched.  I looked through the french doors and there she was, silent meow and all.  We eye-locked but she wasn't leaving.  I called Jon from the other room and very sympathetically exclaimed, "Look!  We have to feed her.  She's expecting it."  We stood there looking at the pitiful face peering back at us and agreed--we had to go the store and get cat food right now.  Yup, she wrapped us around her proverbial little finger from the get go.  We went out to see if she'd come to us, which was no problem whatsoever.  Jon picked her up and she loved it.  Yes, a quick trip to the store was in order.  Jinger named her "Mrs. B" after Mrs. Beasley and the name stuck.  That cat hung around through our first dog, Dutchess, and for the first year or so of Buddy and Trigger.  Then we didn't see her again.  Of course that made me sad.  I wondered about her for a long, long time.

Mrs. B and Dutchess had a little arrangement--they didn't bother each other.  We fed Mrs. B on the potting table and Dutchess wandered around the yard unperturbed by the little black cat.  In the winter they would simultaneously lay against either side of one of the kitchen doors (Mrs. B on the outside and Dutchess inside).  It looked like they were snuggling, only they had the door between them.  Made me chuckle.  Then it made me think of the 50s and 60s sitcoms where the husband and wife slept in separate beds (a little stream of consciousness for you). 

Mrs. B wasn't as fortunate with Buddy and Trigger--they did not have an arrangement.  We had to feed her on the roof.  This displeased Mrs. B and me, but what can you do?  I became very accustomed to her presence after Dutchess died.  That cat even wandered into our house a couple of times when the door was open (when we were between dogs).  She didn't stay, but she came right up to me to say "hi."  (Which, coincidentally is when Jon said to me, "You're getting way too used to that cat.  I think it's time we get another dog.")  Why, that cat even brought me a mouse once and a lizard another time (much to my dismay and delight).  You know, "She likes me!  She really, really likes me!"  She could very well have been someone else's cat who spent a lot of time at our house, but when she started bringing me "offerings" or "gifts" I wasn't so sure.  Perhaps I told myself this to "justify" my attachement to an animal I allegedly "dislike." 

It's been years since Mrs. B lived here.  However, I think we might have a "fill-in" cat for her.  A beautfiful calico has been hanging around here and he doesn't really run away from us.  He's very curious and when we first noticed him he'd go to different doors and meow.  The other day he came right up to the kitchen door and peered in--just like Mrs. B did.  Crazy.  I squatted down and peered back at him.  Stuart did the same  but then he moved towards the door and the cat ran away.  I'll keep you posted on cat watch.  I hate to admit it, but it makes me a little happy to have a friendly feline visitor.  At first, I was really concerned with the "alarming" number of cats using our yard as a byway.  I think I counted about five.  I thought they were feral, which means more cats to come...I mentioned this to someone who told me if they don't run away they aren't feral.  O.K.  I think this cat is someone's pet because he has such a healthy and beautiful coat and he's friendly and curious.  I also could be telling myself stories, too.

I'll keep you posted. 

Chuckle of the Day

This is the second time I've seen this photo and it makes me laugh, a lot.  Not a fan of Tori Spelling, but walking a pet goat kills me.



This is from the WonderWall--a "place" where I spend more time than I'd like.  Did you take note that the dog is in the wheel barrow--apparently little dogs who wear sweaters don't get to use their paws a whole lot (as a side note, I bet it'd work up some heat and keep warm by "hoofing" it). 

All around, this gave me a good laugh.  I'm not laughing at those folks, although I think they could be easy targets.  Sadly, I can kind of identify with walking a pet goat.  With that said, I won't be getting one any time soon.