New Site Address

I've been able to fix this site since I recreated Scrungy's Creator to Scrungy and Friends, but I like the new Scrungy and Friends much better.
I'm sorry for inconvenience...due to my dumb blogging difficulties.
This site will remain here for the archives, but the real Scrungy has moved on.
Please join Scrungy and Friends at here.

=^.^=

Y

This Site Got Broken And Has Been Recreated As Scrungy & Friends

Ka-Pow!

On Thursday I set out to change my blog page from a two column template to a three. I saw my mistake as soon as I hit the button. In a panic I did something else and messed things up for good. I saw the damage as it happened and it's not fixable. Nor do I want to even try. I like the new site I've created much better, the title and the link. It's not much different than Scrungy's Creator, except that it gives me a better opportunity to create a life for Scrungy and his friends on the web.



So please reset my link and come over to http://scrungy.blogspot.com/ where you will be greeted by Scrungy & Friends.


I'm sorry for the inconvenience. After a few tears and a hissy fit, (there was no chocolate in the house at the time) I calmed down and began to redesign a new site. Because my old one was at a point of no return, I just forged ahead with a different site and address. I hadn't planed on moving away from Scrungy's Creator, but I'm hopping everyone will recognize me when I sign in as Dorothy with my photo of Gretchen and myself.




I'll soon be moving my archives because I want to keep them all together, but the comments won't be with them from this point back.

I'll check this site often until I'm sure everyone got the word and has found my new home.

Thank you all for your patience and friendship. I enjoy each and every comment you've all made and the friendships that have blossomed from them. I also enjoy meeting new friends and hope that I will continue to increase my circle of friends over at Scrungy & Friends.

Thursday Thirteen #15

Here are 13 reasons why I should not have gotten out of bed today!

This post comes with a warning...I'm having a bad day. Read at your own risk.

Click on the picture to make it bigger.

1. I didn't want to get out of bed today. I wasn't feeling well and should have stayed put. I finally convinced myself to get up and go to the computer...big, big, big, mistake! I broke my site!

2. I couldn't leave well enough alone, I had to try and fix it! I nearly cleaned it clean off the map.

3. If I had been satisfied with the layout of my first site I had I wouldn't be having a problem right now!

4. I wanted a three panel template and thought I saved my old site and didn't! That's because I don't know what heck I'm doing.

5. Now my html template thingy on this bog is not working and I can't refix this site! I'm tired of reading all the help stuff...my mind has turned to mush, my butt has turned to stone. My cat hates me because I haven't moved from this spot since I got up. I didn't listen to my inner voice, I should have been writing instead of screwing around with a new layout...again!

6. I've started working on a new site with three panels, but I won't have it done for awhile. I'm tired of sitting here being frustrated.

7. I've already spent my entire afternoon, trying to figure things out. Wasted...wasted...wasted! Oh, I think I said that already...refer to the cartoon above, please.

8. I been having really bad thoughts all day about just not blogging anymore.

9. I will lose all my archives and have to start over with new ones. Uck!

10. I will keep this old site up for awhile while I'm figuring things out. Maybe tomorrow will be a better day. Maybe this day never really happened and I'll wake up tomorrow and everything will be the way it used to be.

11. The new site will be called Scrungy's Creator II (I think) now I'm beginning to think that was a really dumb title in the first place and maybe I should just come up with a whole new identity.

12. It will be dark soon and time to go back to bed! yeah, for once I can't wait. I've accomplished nothing but producing dark clouds. I'm going to go eat something besides peach pie, something nourishing and healthy...watch TV maybe...then read. Today never happened...today never happened...today never happened.

13. Maybe this is a good thing, Right? I should always learn from my mistakes? Someone please tell me I'm right!



The purpose of the meme is to get to know everyone who participates a little bit better every Thursday. Visiting fellow Thirteeners is encouraged! If you participate, leave the link to your Thirteen in others comments. It’s easy, and fun! Be sure to update your Thirteen with links that are left for you, as well! I will link to everyone who participates and leaves a link to their 13 things. Trackbacks, pings, comment links accepted!

Wordless Wednesday

Cats on Tuesday

This reminds me of Scrungy and his freinds as kittens.

The following is an excerpt from Scrungy: Abandoned

Scrungy had never been allowed to be out of Deedum or Zera's sight; likewise, the king's kittens were also not allowed to leave the tower, unless escorted by their father or receiving their instructions from the guards. As restless and curious as kittens were, the four males were not content to spend every day of the summer scooting around the rocks and crevices of the tower. One August morning after Scrungy, Sarlin, Diesel, and Mott had finished their lessons with Asanka and Arjuna, the four-month-old kittens decided to sneak off and go to the edge of the forest. Scrungy had been telling them about how he had crossed the abandoned field and about the huge tree where he spent the first two nights after he had been dumped. They had decided that they were now old enough to do what they wanted and they tracked off through the forest to the edge of the abandoned field.

"This is the tree that I slept in," Scrungy exclaimed. "See, here is the cavity that the squirrel had her nuts in."

Looking up into the branches of the tree, Mott cried, "Wow, this is a giant oak. Look how far up the branches go. We can race each other up to the top!"

"Yes, let's go," Scrungy shouted.

Diesel and Sarlin hung back as Mott and Scrungy scooted up the trunk and out onto a low-hanging branch.

"What are you afraid of, Sarlin?" Mott cried. "Look how much fun we can have. These branches are wide and the bark is thick. It's easy to grasp with our claws. Come on! Don't be a scaredy-cat!"

"Father will be very angry with us for even being here," Sarlin pouted. He peered through the high grass and weeds that shielded them from the field. "We better go back home."

"Nonsense, Sarlin!" Scrungy cried. "We're old enough to be out here, aren't we? Your father always said that cats in the wild grow up much faster than domestic cats do. So we gotta be at least six or seven months old compared to a house cat."

Diesel was torn between wanting to be sensible like his older brother Sarlin, or go up into the giant tree and have fun with Mott and Scrungy. Finally, his urge to scurry up into the tree overwhelmed his desire to stay on the ground with Sarlin. He bounded up the massive trunk and joined his brothers on the lowest limb. "Race you to the top!" Mott shouted and all three scampered up through the branches to the top of the tree.

The old oak that stood as a sentinel to the cat's kingdom was home to other creatures as well, creatures that the kittens had not yet had the opportunity to experience. Very near the top of the tree was a hollow filled with sleeping raccoons, a mother and three babies. So far the kittens knew how to climb up and had just reached the top when the mother raccoon left her hollow and climbed up after them. Scrungy had gone out on one limb, Mott on another, and Diesel was still clinging to the main part of the trunk when the mother raccoon surprised them. Her hissing and snarling, the baring of her very sharp teeth, narrowed eyes, and flattened ears frightened the kittens. Diesel was the closest to the raccoon and began to climb faster until he managed to reach the limb that Mott was clinging to. The mother raccoon was wise enough to know that she was too large for the branches that held the kittens, so she held her position between the two branches. Sooner or later the kittens would have to start down, and then she would make a meal of at least one of them.

Sarlin, still on the ground below, became terrified for his brothers and started to cry. "You're going to die! All of you are going to die! If that creature doesn't get you, you will fall and then you will die!"

To Scrungy, clinging to the highest branch in the tree, Sarlin looked like a large white mushroom growing out of the tree roots below. He could barely hear Sarlin's cries. He could see Mott and Diesel across from him, crying and clinging to end of their branch together with all their might. He knew he had to do something to distract the large beast from her position so they could get past her.

Bravely, Scrungy had started to inch his way towards the center of the tree and main part of the trunk leading down when a large brown and black, tiger-striped tabby bolted up the trunk and lit into the mother raccoon from behind. The two animals, locked in a fierce grip, tumbled over branches as they fell to the ground. As soon as they landed, the raccoon took off running and disappeared into the thick underbrush.

The large, unknown cat lay lifeless at the base of the tree. Sarlin cautiously approached the injured cat as Scrungy backed down the trunk and joined him beside the tom.

"Who is he?" Scrungy whispered. "Is he dead?"

"I think he is still alive," Sarlin whined, "and we are in so much trouble." He looked up into the tree at his brother's still clinging to their branch. "Scrungy, they're still up there. What are we going to do?"

"Don't panic, Sarlin," Scrungy cried. "First we have to get some help. This guy is injured, and one of us needs to go get Deedum and Zera."

"Not me!" Sarlin shouted. "I'll never find my way to your place. I've never been there before—remember?"

"We've got to do something, Sarlin. That beast could come back at any minute, then what?"

A deep, but weak, voice startled them as the creature they were standing over groaned. Instinctively their fur stood on end, their ears went flat against their head as they barred their teeth and hissed. "Calm down, boys," the voice said. "I'm not dead, I've just had the wind knocked out of me."

Scrungy and Sarlin relaxed. "Who are you? What—where did you come from? I've never seen you in the kingdom before," Scrungy said.

The large stripped tabby got up off the ground and shook his body to remove the bits of grass and leaf litter that clung to his fur. "That's because I am not from around here. I was just coming into the forest from that road out there, and I saw your dilemma. You boys don't know how to climb a tree very well, do you?" He glanced up at Diesel and Mott, still clinging for life at the top of the tree. "My name is Wahdee. What's yours?"

Scrungy blurted out their names. "I'm Scrungy, this is Sarlin, and his brothers who are still up in the tree are Diesel and Mott. Can you help them get down?"

Wahdee's booming laugh nearly toppled the pair. "I'm not going after them. I've already fallen once today. Besides, you seem to have made it down all right, Scrungy. Last I saw before I hit the ground, you were just as far out on your limb as they are on theirs. Why don't you go back up and show them how it's done?" Wahdee continued to laugh.

Scrungy frowned at the large cat that had just saved them from certain death. "I—I don't remember how I did it. I was just so scared that you were dead, and the next thing I remember I was on the ground beside you."

Wahdee laughed even harder. "Well, you best be remembering soon because that mother raccoon is bound to come back and seek out her youngins. Go on," he urged, "you did it once, you can do it again. Besides, how good of a tom are you going to make if you can't climb a tree proper?"

"I'm going to be a big strong cat," Scrungy insisted. "I've been taking lessons." Scrungy streaked up the tree trunk to a safe place in the crook of a branch nearest Diesel and Mott.

"You've seen me do this once already," he shouted out to them. "Just watch me do it again. That cat who saved our lives down there, said that the mother raccoon will be coming back looking for her babies soon. So you better learn real quick how to back down out of a tree. Besides, what good are all our lessons if we don't know how to get in and out of a dumb old tree?"

Scrungy slowly backed down a few feet and waited for Diesel and Mott to follow his example. Soon, shaky and scared stiff, Diesel turned his tail towards the trunk and carefully backed off the branch that he'd been clinging to until he got to the main trunk then scrambled down it to the ground and safety. "Come on, Mott, you can do it, too." Scrungy called to him. "It won't look good for Asanka and Arjuna if we can't get ourselves out of a tree. You've seen us do it, now I'm going down to the ground and wait for you."

Mott shut his eyes and timidly backed down the tree the way that Diesel had just done. When he hit the ground he turned to his brothers and Scrungy and groaned. "I'm too young for this."

This is copyrighted material and only for the purpose of this blog, please respect it as so and just enjoy reading it here. DBB

Thursday Thirteen #14

Thirteen actors that I have a crush on…and the movies that made me fall in love with them, all of which I would watch over and over and over again. These are my favorite movie men and even though I've listed only one or two of their movies….I like everything they've ever made.
Some are long gone from the silver screen and others have only gotten better with age.

In no particular order:

1. Harrison Ford – Indiana Jones

2. Richard Gere – Pretty Woman and Chicago

3. Pierce Brosnan – Bond, James Bond, of course

4. Kevin Costner – Message in a Bottle and Dragonfly

5. Tom Selleck – High Road to China

6. Cary Grant – Father Goose and Operation Petticoat

7. John Wayne – The Quiet Man

8. Rock Hudson – Man's Favorite Sport

9. Patrick Stewart – Jean-luc Picard, Captain of the Starship Enterprise

10. Mel Gibbson - Braveheart

11. Sean Connery – Medicine Man

12. James Garner – Notebook

13. Sam Elliot - Conager

The purpose of the meme is to get to know everyone who participates a little bit better every Thursday. Visiting fellow Thirteeners is encouraged! If you participate, leave the link to your Thirteen in others comments. It’s easy, and fun! Be sure to update your Thirteen with links that are left for you, as well! I will link to everyone who participates and leaves a link to their 13 things. Trackbacks, pings, comment links accepted!

Wordless ~Full of Love~ Wednesday

Photo in an emal - author unknown

Mike the Mysterious: Episode 6: Writer Wannabe

Mike, The Writer Wannabe

Mike had been out in the living room in his basket and still wearing that silly feathered hat for over a month now. I was getting worried about him. I was thinking it was time for a change of scenery. I must have broken the spell he was in when I moved the living room sofa back to its winter position, against the wall. I finally persuaded him to put the orange and black hat and cape away until October. "Besides, you're getting very dusty, Mike!" I complained to him.

He reminded me that I was supposed to be making him a new costume. A sparkly wizard's hat and cape. "We'll," I said, "that won't happen for awhile. So let's just put this costume away and pick out something else to wear. At least until it's time to pull out the bear's sweaters again." He frowned, but gave up his costume willingly. "It's been way to warm for this thing anyway," he groaned.

I gave him a good shake to get off all the dust that had accumulated on his melted back fur, and wiped the dirt from his golden, glass eyes. I could tell he was very appreciative of my efforts to spruce him up a bit.

So, today when I came into the office to turn on the computer, I found Mike already at the keyboard. He said it was time to write a story for Cat Tuesday and he was going to write his own story. I'd said I wasn't ready to do that yet, but he'd just jammed on a pair the bear's glasses; how he'd found them I'll never know, and started up the computer.

"I wanna be a writer like you," he stated mater-of-factly, and started clicking away at the keyboard.

"Wait," I yelled. That's my new computer. You're gonna mess things up. Move aside and let me do the typing. You just tell me what you want to say. Nobody, and that includes you fluffheads, is gonna use my keyboard!"

A wry glint flashed across a golden eye as he politely reminded me that Gretchen was allowed to blog, so why couldn't he blog, too? I had no rational answer that I could give him that didn't sound prejudiced against fluffheads, no matter how smart they were."Okay," I finally relented. "But if you mess things up I'm going to de-fluff you piece, by wiry piece.'
I'm sure the thought of being de-fluffed was horrifying to him. He didn't argue with me anymore, he just climbed up on the desk and started dictating to me.

"Okay," he began. "My name is Mike the Mysterious, as you well know, and I'm gonna write my memoirs."

"Wait," I said, holding my hand up to stop him from continuing. "Your memoirs? You have memories to write about?"

He just looked at me through a pair of yellow lenses that belonged to the bears, and stated: "I had a life once. Maybe it was a long time ago, but I did have a life."

"Sorry," I said. "Please continue."

"I need to get my thoughts together. Hand me a pencil, will you? And I'll need some note paper, those colorful sticky things you're always using will do. I'll need a Dictionary and a Thesaurus…"

I rolled my eyes as I watched him scurry about on my desk writing notes, thumbing through the Dictionary, the Thesaurus, and the spelling book I keep by the keyboard. I didn't even try to explain that the word program I used had a thing called spell-check.

Minutes ticked by while Mike made notes. Sticky note paper flew in all directions. I think he just loved the idea of scratching a few words and tearing off sheets of tiny paper and sticking them to things, more than he did in making serious notes about his life.
"Ummm, Mike?" I asked, after about twenty minutes of this activity. "Are we going to write today, or what?"

"Oh, yes," he squealed with delight. "Yes, just let me get something to nibble on first. All this thinking has made me hungry." Gretchen had woken up from her nap in her Crystal Geyser Box on the desk and had padded over to her munching table for a light snack. The distraction was too much for Mike, he flew across the desk to where Gretchen was happily scarffing down Temptations and solicited her for a few morsels.

I shouldn't have been surprised that Gretchen moved over so Mike could grab a few bits for himself. Had it been a real-life, furry creature, I'm sure Gretchen would have had a few distasteful words to say, maybe even a well placed swat to the nose…I don't think she's the snack-sharing type. But Mike is Mysterious and has a way with getting around things like sibling rivalry—in this case fluffhead annoyances. Besides, I think Gretchen's already aware that Mike can't really eat. He just pretends. So her little stash was in no real danger.

I had emails to answer and some blogs to look at so I let Mike alone for a spell. Next I noticed he'd found the extra pouch of Temptations and had taken over Gretchen's napping box. Would Gretchen allow him to do that? I looked around. Gretchen had departed for other parts of the apartment. She probably had to visit the little girlcat box and take a drink from the toilet.

I continued to blog, thankful that Mike was distracted from wanting me to write his memoirs. I glanced over at him after a few more minutes. He was enamored by the blue, foil packet that Gretchen's treats came in. It must have been like catnip to him, he got all glassy-eyed as he rolled around and bunny kicked the packet.

Okay, this was weirding me out. I took the packet of salmon flavored treats away from Mike and put them back in the cubbyhole on my hubby's desk. I noticed a few Hershey's chocolate bars stashed in there, too. Hmmm. I poked around some more and stole a candy bar for myself. He wouldn't mind. After all, it was chocolate, and when a woman comes across a chocolate bar, no matter who it belongs to, it's hers.

"Enough!" I told Mike. "Either you get back over here and tell me what to write, or take a nap. I've got work to do."

Mike looked up at me with widened, glazed eyes. For a moment there I was afraid for the candy bar I held in my hand. You don't suppose Mike wants chocolate, too? Naw, I reminded myself. He's just a fluffhead. A quirky little piece of melted back nylon and…hmm, what was he made of, really? I had to take a look at his tag. Aw, yes, "Ty Inc © 2000 (hmm, he's just seven years old? how on earth could he have memoirs?) OAKBROOK, IL., REG. NO. PA—oh geesh, I had to get the magnifying glass—1965 (KR), ALL NEW MATERIAL, CONTENTS POLYESTER, FIBER & P.E. PELLETS IN CLOTH BAG, HANDMADE IN CHINA, CE." Well, that told me nothing. Whatever the outer material was, it certainly was defective. All but his legs and tail had melted in the dryer.

"Hey, come on, Mike!" I startled him out of his salmon flavored induced trance. "Let's get going here I've got other things to do today. I've also got to produce a story for Cat's on Tuesday."

"Oh, dear," his apology was a bit slurred. "Where were we? Ah, yes…my memoirs. Grab me that yellow legal pad, will you?" Mike shuffled across the desk, stepped on a few keys 3lzj;oirtiasfj and settled himself on the note pad by the hard drive, a small pencil tucked behind his ear. "It all began, a hundred years or so, ago; in a land very far away…" he paused, looked up at me over the tops of his glasses, "so far in fact that I'm afraid you've never heard of it, D."

Okay, I was beginning to see that this project was going to take longer than I thought, not to mention the stretch his imagination was going to take. I took his dictation without comment. He was pretty good at story telling actually, and I told him so. In the fluffhead world his story could possibly become a Best Seller.

Mike grinned, and as I was editing a few details, he had scurried back across the keyboard, stepping on a few more keys jwerjgno;ijheoiujtu9235hr and settled himself back in Gretchen's napping box. When I looked up he had my cell phone open and was punching numbers with his thick, black stub that he had for a paw.

"Hey, Mike! Not my cell phone!" I grabbed it before he could punch send. "Who in the world are you calling?"

"My agent," he said.

New Award

My sweet friend in Belgium, Gattina, gave me the Blogging Star award.

The Blogging Star Award, has been created by Barb at Skittles'Place . She has created it for bloggers who shine their light throughout the Blogoshere, with humor, creativity, or with their kind and thoughtful natures.

I'm honored to be thought of in that way on the Blogosphere. Thank you, Gattina.

I'm supposed to display this award on my blog along with a link to who gave it to me...that would be Gattina at Writer Cramps. I am to mention that it originated at Skittles' Place so Barb can follow it's journey. Feel free to pass it on to any blogger(s) you think should have it.

My first thought went to Thomma Lyn. To me she is Super Star Blogging Star. Her light certainly does shine bright throughout the Blogosphere with her humor, creativity and her kind and thoughtful nature. She's a friend to all the bloggers that she meets. Her cats, the Ballicus, also deserve this award just as much for the same reasons. Marilyn MonREOW and Chairman Mao. So since Gretchen is the better part of me, I'll let her have the honor to present them with this award from her site.

Barb at Skittles' Place probably didn't imagine that such an award as this will fly through the Catsblogosphere....which just goes to show ya, never underestimate the power of cats.

I have one other Blogging Star to give this award to, because of her friendly efforts and creativity. Paula at Basset Knitter. Not just because she is my daughter and I'm proud of her, but because of her blogging talents, her gift of friendship to all she meets. Her light shines brightly, too.

Short Story Writing Month Challenge Begins

The Short Story Writing Month challenge starts today. The sign-ups have been extended through the weekend. For those of you wishing to participate in the event you still have a chance to join.

The first contest of the SSWM for the best opening sentence has been posted. I've already posted my first sentence, "Ever play the game, button, button, who's got the button?"

You can still enter this first contest... It's open until September 8th. Just go to SSWM site and post your first sentence in the comment section.

13th Thursday 13

This is my 13th Thursday Thirteen post so I thought I try and list 13 good things about the number 13 in my life.

1. My lucky day seems to be Friday 13.
2. The last four digits of my phone number equal 13.
3. The letters in my first and last name equal 13.
4. My birthday month and day equal 13.
5. The letters in my cat's name equal 13.
6. The letters in my husband's name equal 13.
7. The first date I had with my husband was Friday 13.
8. The letters in my mother's name equal 13.
9. The letters of my first husband's name equaled 13.
10. I live in apartment number 13.
11. Number of years it's been since I left the Midwest has been 13.
12. My first real kiss from a boy was age 13.
13. My favorite hour the day is 13.



The purpose of the meme is to get to know everyone who participates a little bit better every Thursday. Visiting fellow Thirteeners is encouraged! If you participate, leave the link to your Thirteen in others comments. It’s easy, and fun! Be sure to update your Thirteen with links that are left for you, as well! I will link to everyone who participates and leaves a link to their 13 things. Trackbacks, pings, comment links accepted!

Wordless Wednesday

Cat's on Tuesday: In Search of Pussy Willows

In Search of Pussy Willows
an original short shotry by DBB

Miezo reached into the pocket of her denim jacket for her branch cutters. Spring had been very late in coming this year and the sixty-five year old, olive skinned woman was finally able to locate a willow bush just showing the bits of creamy fuzz on its slender red branches. The ground around the pond was still soggy, sucking at every step of her irrigation boots as she made her way towards the stand of pussy willows.

In Miezo's eyes, the first buds of the pussy willow were a definite sign that the world was about to explode into a riot of spring flowers and yellow-green leaves. From across the pond on another stand of willows, a tiny, gray Titmouse sang out to the small, pudgy woman, her long gray-black hair thickly braided down her back. The irrigation boots she wore looked far too large and cumbersome for someone so small. Yet five-foot-two and half Miezo managed very well at gathering an armful of the soft fuzzy branches in them.

The clear, blue morning had been bright with sunshine. The barren branches of the oaks above her seemed to be stretching their gnarly fingers towards the sun. Soaking up as much as of the sun's energy has they could hold, storing it within the thin, seemingly, lifeless branches that would soon burst open with red-tinged catkins: precursors to tender pale, green leaves at least a month away. Shifting her load from one arm to the other, Miezo thought she could almost hear the old tree give a grateful sigh for the sun's gift. She stood gazing across the pond, listening to the morning chorus of small birds that filled the cool, still air.

Satisfied with her collection of the year's first fuzzy branches, Miezo shoved her clippers back into her pocket and headed back to her car. She had one more pond to investigate before heading back home. She had been up since before dawn, contemplating whether or not to fix breakfast at the usual hour her life had demanded for so many long years. Going through the motions of setting the dented, aluminum teakettle on the back burner, pulling out the coffee can, two cups…no wait. Miezo had done this in her sleep for more than forty-seven years. Again she had stumbled through the four a.m. routine to the point of the coffee cups, before realizing it was another lonely day without her treasured companion…Peter. Peter had died early last month. She seldom ate breakfast anymore. It was too lonely now to eat breakfast alone, without her husband.

Life on the prairie had never been lonely. Ever. She always had work to keep her busy. Her stubby little fingers kept busy weaving baskets. Peter called her beautiful willow and grass baskets, Prairie baskets. Peter had been her life. She didn't need anything else to fill the void. They were both eighteen when they married…way back then somewhere…they never had children. Peter worked in the local quarry until he was fifty, then he went to work in the textile factory on the river. He was about to retire in three months from today. Peter and Miezo were going to give up their little white house atop a small hill, surrounded by old oaks, ash and sycamore. They were going to move south. Where the winters would be kinder to their old bones. Peter had a heart attack at work and died the very same day. Now Miezo was lonely.

The oak above Miezo's head seemed to sigh again, bringing her thoughts back to the pussy willow gathering. She had always gathered the tender red willow shoots in the early part of spring for her prairie baskets, but she adored the fuzzy buds and took many home to place in canning jars about her small little house. It always cheered her after the long winter had finally released its icy grip. The first real blooms of spring.

Miezo's attention again turned to the sighing oak. It was singing? Miezo gazed upward, searching the thick bark for signs of movement. There was no breeze about. The air was cool and still. She smiled at the thought that the oak would be singing to her. Peter had a lovely tenor voice and often spent many summer nights on their little porch, singing love songs that he and his guitar composed for her. She missed his voice. Terribly.

She was staring up at a deep crotch in the massive branches when she heard the sigh again. Louder than before, in fact, a cry…not unlike a baby's cry. Her eyes eagerly searched the spot she'd heard the sound come from. "That is not the tree!" she cried out. "What the…"

Tiny blue eyes peered out at her in the deepest part of the crotch. Tiny, pale ears flicked in all directions, taking in the sounds of the pond, the birds, the human voice. The little creature gave one last, desperate utterance to the small woman on the ground below it. "eeeeeoooooow!"

It took Miezo a moment or two to recognize what the trembling, plaintiff creature was. "Kitten?" she called to it. "Are you lost? You are lost…there's no one but me living out here for miles. How did you get here?"

She held up her hand and called to it. The kitten didn't move, but complained even louder than before. "Are you stuck? You are stuck…" Miezo sighed. If Peter had been with her he would have shimmed up that old oak without a second thought. She was afraid to climb on a footstool in her kitchen to get stuff out of the cabinets, how was she going to climb a massive oak to get hold of tiny kitten stuck twenty feet off the ground.

Miezo's car was parked on the old wagon trail over the rise. If she hurried she could get to the car, there was a rope in the trunk. It had always been there. She'd get the rope and…then do what with it? Desperately, she looked about her for something, anything to help her get to this frightened little creature. The kitten's cries had turned into frightful wails.

Miezo dropped the bundle of pussy willows to the ground and circled the tree looking for an easy way up. A low limb, a broken branch, anything to help her reach the kitten. There was nothing. No branches of this tree touched the ground, or bent low. She stepped back shielding her eyes from the bright sun, and called to the kitten once more. With the sound of her voice the kitten's pleas increased. Miezo imagined tears were falling from its pale, fuzzy face. Finally out of frustration she threw her hands up in the air, "Kitten, if you've been stuck in that tree for this long, you'll have to wait until I can come back with help."

Tears gathering in her own eyes, Miezo collected her precious bundle of twigs and slogged back to her car, the irrigation boots hindering her flight. When she reached the car and opened her trunk she noticed the brown paper sack she had packed for her lunch. Fried fish sandwiches and a small bottle of milk. Miezo grabbed the sack, exchanged her boots for her loafers and ran back up the hill to the tree. "Just maybe," she hoped out loud, "you're not really stuck but just too terrified to move. Something must have frightened you up there and you're too afraid to climb down."

When Miezo got to the top of the rise, she could still hear the kitten's cries. Screams really. Lonely, mournful screams of abandonment. Once the kitten saw her approaching the tree again, he stopped. Looked down at her with enormous blue eyes and shuddered. Much like a child would shudder after having a good long cry. "Kitten, I'm back," Miezo said soothingly. "I'm not leaving you here, promise. If I have to stay here at the bottom of this tree with you all day and all night, you will not be alone."

Miezo held up the brown paper bag and shook it a little. She pulled off her denim jacket and spread it like a picnic cloth on the ground beneath the oak. The kitten watched as she opened up the waxed paper and broke apart the sandwich. She sat as if to eat the lunch entirely alone. She uncapped the milk bottle and took a sip. "Kitten," she said, holding up the bottle for him to get a good sniff, "maybe you're just scared, but I think that if you are hungry enough you'll figure out a way to come down. I have fish and milk. What more could a small thing like you want?"

Miezo poured a puddle of milk onto the piece of waxed paper she'd fashioned into a kind of bowl, then turned her back on the tree and the tiny creature, pulled her knees up under her chin and gazed out upon the pond. The birds still chattered excitedly, flitting from branch to branch of the trees and willows across the pond. Eager it seemed to renew old friendships. Find a mate and build a nest. Miezo's heart melted at the thought. Her nest was empty. Peter was gone. She pined for him with every chore. The things they did together, mater-of-fact, without thought. Side by side, working around the house, the garden. If he still lived he'd be with her now, gathering the first of the pussy willows. Rejoicing in the joy of spring with her.

While Miezo's thoughts went deep into remembering her life with Peter, she hadn't noticed the kitten scrabbling backwards down the rough bark of the old oak. She hadn't seen it dash from the roots of the tree in triumph, across the grass to her jacket. To the bits of fish, the puddle of milk. She only came back to the present when she felt a fuzzy face brush against her hand, a sandpaper tongue lick her fingers. Miezo reached out and pulled the pale, color of pussy willows, kitten into her lap. "I knew you could do it," she cooed. "Shall we go home now, you and me? Pussy Willow?" The kitten licked her face in response and began to purr. Miezo laughed and cried at the same time. "You and I will not be lonely anymore."

The End

Scattergories Meme

My daughter, Paula, bless her heart, tagged me for the 'Scattergories' meme.

Here are the rules:
Use the 1st letter of your name to answer each of the questions.They must be real places, names, things ... nothing made up!If you can't think of anything, skip it.You CAN'T use your name for the boy/girl name question.If your name happens to start with the same letter as mine, sorry, but you can't use my answers!

My name: Dorothy

1. Famous Singer: Donny Osmond
2. Four letter word: Dove
3. Street: Downing
4. Color: Dark Green
5. Gifts/Presents: Diamonds
6. Vehicle: Dodge Ram
7. Things in a Souvenir Shop: Dresser
8. Boy Name: David
9. Girl Name: Donna
10. Movie Title: Darkman
11. Drink: Dark Chocolate
12. Occupation: Doctor13. Celebrity: Doris Day
14. Magazine: Dazed & Confused Magazine
15. U.S. City: Dodge
16. Pro Sports: Dodgers
17. Fruit: Date
18. Reason for Being Late for Work: Dog ate my draft
19. Something You Throw Away: Dirty Diapers
20. Things You Shout: Drat
21. Cartoon Character: Dogwood

I am tagging: Thomma Lyn,Tinkerbell, Meeyauw,

I'm a Monster, too...

Your Monster Profile

Twisted Beheader You Feast On: Lasanga You Lurk Around In: The Backseats of Cars You Especially Like to Torment: Groupies

What's Your Monster Name?

I Think Summer's Back For A Day!

"Life's challenges are not supposed to paralyze you;

they're supposed to help you discover who you are."

~Lewis Duncombe

It's warming up again. Yesterday was warm but pleasant...today is a bit warmer. I'm still grateful for the weather we're having, but waiting for the other shoe to drop! I really feel for my family and friends that are suffering through the prolonged and intense heat in their area.

The Short Story Writing Month site has put up a contest for the Best Opening Sentence. Check it out. I'm off now to work out the opening sentence to my short story. By the way--you're not limited to the number of short stories you want to submit for Short Story Writing Month...if you can do more than one...have at it!

Thursday Thirteen #12

This week I’d like to introduce the Short Story Writing Month that will begin September 1, 2007 and will be hosted by Paula, at Basset Knitter.

1. The purpose of this short Story Writing Group is to meet together for one month to have fun sharing, learning, inspiring and supporting each other in short story writing(s).

2. Many will be upcoming NaNoWriMo participants and this is a wonderful place to help condition our minds and fingers for that brain bending November event.

3. There will also be some fun contest and prizes awarded. Because we are only together for four short weeks, Paula will post the first contest this week in order to give everyone’s creative mind a jump start.

4. This group will run from September 1st to October 1st. Signups will end on September 1st at midnight central standard time (give or take an hour or a day.)

5. Paula will be adding helpful writing links to the sidebar for the rest of this week so please come back and visit often.

6. A special Participation Button has been created to place on your sidebar or blog.

7. The short stories entered need to be between 500 and 5,000 words.

8. Edgar Allan Poe said that a Short Story should: "Be complete by itself. Be able to be read in one sitting. Have every word used for important effect. Have a good opening sentence that is developed throughout the work. End at its climax. Have no more characters than those necessary for the action."

9. Kurt Vonnegut gives 8 tips on writing a short story: I like the last two the best: "Write to please just one person. If you open a window and make love to the world, so to speak, your story will get pneumonia."

10. And…"Give your readers as much information as possible as soon as possible. To heck with suspense. Readers should have such complete understanding of what is going on, where and why, that they could finish the story themselves, should cockroaches eat the last few pages."

11. hee,hee…"should cockroaches eat the last few pages" has special meaning to me. One of my daughters is and illustrator and she while was working on a project in a place that she had just moved into, the cockroaches came and ate the watercolor off of her painting at night.

12. Hope you come and join us for the Short Story Writing Month… After writing short stories for Cats on Tuesday, I've become a short story nut.

13. Please visit the Short Story Writing Month site to join and for the complete list of rules.



The purpose of the meme is to get to know everyone who participates a little bit better every Thursday. Visiting fellow Thirteeners is encouraged! If you participate, leave the link to your Thirteen in others comments. It’s easy, and fun! Be sure to update your Thirteen with links that are left for you, as well! I will link to everyone who participates and leaves a link to their 13 things. Trackbacks, pings, comment links accepted!

Wordless "Breathtaking" Wednesday

Cat Tuesday: Lazy Days

I'm sure Gattina's got lots more cat stories...go here to find out what the rest of the group is up too.

Sorry folks, I have no short story today. I know it's Tuesday and it's cat's day. So here's my lazy cat. She wouldn't get out of bed today...the roofers are back and doing more work on the roofs. For two days she's been under the covers. All the noise is too much for her...and me. I've just about got things settled down on my computer and should be back to normal next week. Just too much going on and only so much energy. I feel like a cat-nap myself. *yawn*

Have a good COT day, everybody.

Question: What's a cat's favorite color? Purr-ple!

Beautiful Sunday - All The Way Around

"To look backward for a while is to refresh the eye,

to restore it, and to render it more fit for its prime function of looking forward."

~Margaret Fairless Barber

After a wonderful night of gentle, but soaking rain, we have great puffy clouds with bits of brilliant, blue sky peaking through, with occasionally bits of sun beams. It's October weather here, in August. I'm not complaining--with the rest of the country in a horrible heat wave, I'm very grateful for the cooler air. Very! (our turn is coming, I just know it.)

My computer is up, files are loaded, and today I'm just kicking back, listening to my All Classical 89.9 FM out of Portland, while I play around on this thing. This dream has been full filled. Gretchen's not been happy with me over the past few days...but I'll make it to her when we go get in my big recliner and cozy up with a manuscript later today.

The Day Just Got Better! It's a Good Friday!

For real, Happy! Happy! Joy! Joy! all the parts of my computer came today. It's great, everything works and I can even listen to music and blog at the same time...
Just thought I'd relay that little message...no more feeling sorry for me. Now I've just got to clean up the huge mess I've created making room for this new system. No more hair pulling. No more tissy fits...my hubby can relax now. I about drove him nuts this week.

I've got a lot to learn and a lot stuff to load, but the hardest part is over....I think....I hope.

Frustrating Friday...Happy, Happy, Joy, Joy...

Today I had a nice surprise. My good friend and writing buddy, honored me with this very nice looking Thoughtful Blogger Award. Thank you, Thomma Lyn. You're very sweet and thoughtful to give it me. I will get to display it on my sidebar.

I'm still sitting here with two computers cluttering my desk, the old and the new. I'm still using the old one because the beautiful new one, with its flat panel monitor, is still waiting for the company to send the Internet card they forgot to load before they shipped it to me. It's depressing.

But....on the brighter side, I'm still connected and it's a nice, cool, Autumn-like day out with lots of huge clouds and bits of blue sky. We may even get a rain shower or two. So Happy, Happy, Joy, Joy everyone. Have a good weekend!

Thursday Thirteen # 11

From Fiddler on the Roof:

Sunrise, sunset - Sunrise, sunset, Swiftly flow the days, Seedlings turn overnight to sunflowers, Blossoming even as we gaze

Sunrise, sunset - Sunrise, sunset, Swiftly fly the years, One season following another, Laden with happiness and tears

Here are just thirteen of the sunrises and sunsets I have witnessed.

1. After an all night, frantic journey to reach the base in time, I've seen the sun rise up out the Atlantic Ocean while standing on the beach outside a little motel in Florida, with a two year old in hand and a baby in the warmer, a month away from birth, while my handsome, Navyman got assigned to his new boat.

2. Standing on end of Huntington Beach pier watching the sun dip into the Pacific Ocean while eating the biggest and best hamburger in the world, and fishing.

3. Standing on the mountaintop in the Sierra Nevada Mountain Range, the eastern sun casting long shadows through the cedars and redwoods while fixing trout for breakfast.

4.On the shores of Lake Michigan I've watched the sun rise up out of the lake after a night of camping with bears.

5. I've basked in the sands of the North Shore in Hawaii, as the great ball of fire touched the warm South Pacific waters turning the mountainous waves into pure gold.

6. I've watched the midnight sun in far away Alaska as it dipped every so briefly below the horizon and then rose up again. I've also seen it rise at nine in the morning and set at three in the afternoon.

7. I've stood breathless watching the sun come up out of the sea in Kailua, and Laie on the island of Oahu; atop the Pali where I could see both sunrise and sunset.

8. I've stood in the middle of windswept prairies seeing both sunrise and sunset unobstructed.

9. I've watched the famous sunsets while strolling hand and hand with my lover on Waikiki beach.

10. I've stood atop ridges in the Great Smokey Mountains and watched the lazy sun rise gently through a blue haze, turning it briefly golden.

11. I've witnessed sunrise after sunrise on the long car trips from west to east coast, and sunset after sunset on our trips from east coast to west, over two dozen times that I can remember. Yes, I've traveled Old Route 66 before it was old, many, many times.

12. I've seen the sunset over the Grand Cannon, The Great Salt Lake, Yellowstone and Yosemite.

13. I have stood on high cliffs on the Oregon coastline, watched the dazzling sun set as whales played in the cold waters off shore; and in the same place, watched the setting sun, at times consumed, eaten entirely by fog, as though it had never existed.

I've seen many more sunsets than sunrise only because I am not a morning person. But I love the earthly stillness as it rises above the ocean, lake, mountain or prairie, when all of nature holds it breath for one brief moment. What a joy to have eyes that see!







The purpose of the meme is to get to know everyone who participates a little bit better every Thursday. Visiting fellow Thirteeners is encouraged! If you participate, leave the link to your Thirteen in others comments. It’s easy, and fun! Be sure to update your Thirteen with links that are left for you, as well! I will link to everyone who participates and leaves a link to their 13 things. Trackbacks, pings, comment links accepted!

Wordless Wednesday

Neighborhood Nightlife Episode 3: A Bit Of Jealousy

While you are sleeping, snug and comfy in your beds, dreams floating round in your heads, do you know what your cat is doing at that wee hour, when moon has risen high, wind has stilled, leaving the air thickly perfumed with night flowers?

Necco had spent the entire day in her guardians bedroom window staring through the shadowy trees at building one: more specifically at apartment sixteen. It was indeed a wasted vigil, because no matter how she strained her eyes, or squinted against the sun's brightness; she could not get a clear view of the only window of that apartment facing hers. But she could sense that there was a stranger there. Using the olfactory nerves in the roof of her mouth: tilting her nose upward, teeth bared, mouth apart, Necco tried to form a picture in her mind of this all white, fluffy queen that had just moved into the Rainbow Estates Senior Village.

She had seen a darker shadow under the shrub by the window for most of the morning. When the sun got too hot, the windows were closed and the air conditioner was turned on. The shadow she knew to be Thorny's, extracting information from the newcomer, had even taken off; back to his neighborhood of fancy houses, where he too, could doze away the hot afternoon in cool comfort.

Undaunted by the closed window and the heat of the blazing sun through the glass, Necco scrunched her body as far back onto the sill as she could go, into a tiny bit of shade the tree outside her window offered at that time of day, tucked her paws under chest and catnapped. Her ears turned forward, her eyes, only half closed, half dozing and half alert to any movement. A yellow butterfly flitted about from one flower to another, a spider that had completed a web from the edge of the widow sill to a nearby shrub, now sat in it's middle and waited for dinner guest. The hum of the air conditioner and the noise of the floor fans drowned out any other sound. But yet Necco stayed at her post. Determined.

Necco had not realized that this very obsessive behavior, to stay put, at all cost, just to get a glimpse of the new cat, would alarm her guardians, whom after a few hours of watching their little tortie suffering on the hot window sill, thought she was ill and phoned the vet's office.

Before Necco could blink twice she had been scooped from off the sill, placed into her cat carrier and shuffled out to the car. Hot at first, until the air-conditioner cooled the air, the backseat of the car was nearly unbearable. But off they went during rush hour traffic, three miles away to a pet clinic that specialized in cats. Within minutes Necco had been taken back to an examining room, extracted from her carrier with much protesting, and all four white paws thrust onto an icy-cold, metal table. Her male guardian was most distressed during the telling of his reason for bringing Necco to the doctor. "She's been sitting on that widow sill since before dawn just staring at nothing, hasn't eaten, drank any water or left to go to the litter box. She was very hot when we pulled her from the window sill." "We're very concerned," the female guardian broke in. "She's never behaved like this before…"

Humiliated, Necco crouched down upon her paws while the doctor gently ran his hands over her soft, pale fur, massaged her neck. Her fur was still warm from the heat of the window, despite the air-conditioned apartment and the ten-minute ride to the clinic. Before she could protest, a hard, cold instrument had been jammed into her bottom. She let her guardians know, in no uncertain terms that a probe was not necessary. Next a poke with another sharp instrument was thrust into her front leg, while her human guardians held her fast to the table. "Oh, for crying out loud!" Necco screamed again in protest over the unnecessary treatment. "I'm not sick…I'm not sick…there's nothing wrong with me!"

Oblivious to the message in Necco's cries, the veterinarian withdrew some blood from her leg, told her guardians she had no temperature and that she was probably just stressed out about something. She was a little dehydrated and if they could not get her to drink any water in the next hour or so, then they were to bring her back and they'd keep her overnight on a glucose IV. A bowl of water was immediately placed in front of her nose, and with some encouraging strokes down her back, she quickly lapped up enough water to make everyone in the room happy.

"That was the most humiliating experience ever!" she told Markus later that night, after the evening breezes had cooled the hot, humid air and the windows were once again open. "I had to spend the entire evening in the living room, stretched out across my female's lap. She thought I would like to be stroked with a damp washcloth. A bowl of water was shoved under my nose every ten minutes and I had to lap up a few drops each time just to keep my humans happy. I had to do it…I was so afraid they were going to rush me back to that icy-cold table again. Oh, how I hate that place!" Necco let go a tiny sneeze, "I think they've given me a chill."

Markus couldn’t contain his laughter. The image his little friend had given him would keep him amused for at least a week. "So, did you get to see her at all? The new cat, I mean. You had to go right passed her apartment on the way out of the parking lot. Was she sitting in the window?"

Necco let out a sigh, "No…I was too busy being humiliated…rushed to the clinic like that. I did have the perfect chance, didn't I?" Necco stamped her feet in her little frustrated fashion and whacked her tail against the glass. "Did you happened to see her today? You're much higher up than I am, surely you had a good view of her window."

"Necco, you know I can't see her window any better than you. You forget that your tree covers my window completely." Just then a familiar croak came from the window next to Necco, "I was looking over her way a few times today, Necco," the crackled voice commented. "All I could see was the tip end of a white tail thrashing about. Thorny was over there under the bush most of the morning, we'll just have to wait until midnight for him to come by. I think he likes her." Frog laughed, emitting a hoarse cough like sound. "Couldn't help but overhear your vet experience today, Necco. You should be more careful with your jealousy."

Necco spat back. "I'm not jealous! I'm just curious. Besides," she mewed softly, "Thorny is just being a good neighbor and he did promise to bring us information about her."

Markus and Frog both chuckled. "Hey Frog," Markus asked, changing the subject. "Have you heard anything about the old man upstairs, lately? How is he doing…and that dog?"

Frog hesitated to tell Necco and Markus what he had overheard from his guardians this morning at breakfast. From the little bit of human language he had interpreted, "the old man, having multiple bruises and a couple of cracked ribs, will be going into a nursing home for good. The little dog, having suffered no more than a cut on his snout, was taken to a foster home; he'll be adopted out. Hopefully. So it shouldn't be too long and we'll all have new neighbors again."

"I hope we don't get another dog up there," Markus sighed. "I could always hear that little rat of a dog whining and yapping through the common wall. It got very irritating at times. It's nice and quiet lately." Frog agreed.

Right then Thorny was spotted strutting across the parking lot from the direction of apartment sixteen. "Hey guys, he called out. How's things been for ya today?"

Of course Markus and Frog had to reveal Necco's obsession to catch a glimpse of the new cat, and how it nearly earned her a comfy, medicinal, overnight compartment at the clinic. Thorny, would have rolled over laughing but one look from Necco's squinted eyes, told him he'd better just get on with the news. "Sorry, you had such a bad day, Necco," he offered solemnly, "but I have good news about Princess Pricilla Prudence."

"Princess what?" Necco couldn't believe she had spent all those hours on that crummy, hot windowsill just to hear that the new, fluffy white cat in sixteen had a name that started with princess.

"Princess Pricilla," Thorny repeated. "She likes to be called Sissy…she's really sweet. She has a very soft voice," Thorny seemed to blush.

"So tell us more," Markus prodded, "What's her story? Nice and sweet with beautiful eyes and a soft voice doesn't tell us a whole lot."

As Thorny talked, Necco shifted on her windowsill several times, whacking her tail against the glass in frustration over the news that the new cat was a prima-donna, a princess no less, with papers and awards. A show cat. A cat that got bathed almost daily, and combed out. A cat that wore colored ribbons on the top of her head, had a real diamond collar, and ate expensive food off of genuine crystal and china. A cat that she was sure was not going to fit in at the lowly, Rainbow Estates Senior Village. A cat that very nearly caused her to have heat stroke.

Thorny didn't stay long, he had rounds to make. He'd be back again tomorrow maybe, after he had visited the new Princess Pricilla Prudence. "Humph!" Necco sneered, sounding a bit jealous even to herself, "Princess Prissy Prudy's…more like it."

All Done! The End! My Life Can Continue Now!

It took me until three a. m. this morning to finish the last quarter of the book, but at last I found out all I needed to know, and then some. I have no comment because I do not want to spoil it for anyone still reading Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows. I was satisfied that my theories were mostly right. The hype that preceded this book spoils it for everyone, indeed, therefore leaving one quite disappointed. I'm not disappointed with the story...just the hype; it gave me a false since of anticipation. The book was good. I've added it to the rest of the collection on my very dusty bookshelf. I'll read them all again...someday.

I do have one comment to make, after all. Not about the story itself...but about the language in it. I know we live in a coarse world where street language and rude behavior is now the norm. But I do believe that authors of children's books (that includes young adults) do not have to succumb to coarse language. I was disappointed in that fact alone. It was not necessary for the story, or the characters. It just was not! I felt I was reading about alltogether, different characters from the ones I had come to know and love throughout this series. That was a huge spoiler for me.

The End

Gretchen And I Are Still Reading... You-Know-Who...

Still reading...er...napping through HP. So much is going on at once around here, it's harder than I thought to get at it. Gretchen is helping. She stands guard...er...sits guard as I'm reading.

Wake up Gretchie...we're getting to an exciting part.

Yeah, yeah, I'm with you.

Thursday Thirteen #10

Does anyone know the name of this moth?

Thirteen Things About Growing Up

1. I was born during WWII in the Texas Panhandle at an Army Hospital. My dad was six feet four inches. My mom, five-nine. I have a grandmother that was six-two, and an aunt who was six feet.

2. I was five-eleven and three-quarter inches by the end of sixth grade with a size eleven shoe. Try getting ballet shoes in that size.

3. I was a head taller in every class throughout my entire school experience. Tall, skinny and freckled—tomboy type. Had many nicknames—you'd probably call them labels in today's times. I did make it to six foot by the time I graduated high school.

4. I never lived in any place longer than four years. I've lived in several towns in Texas, Oklahoma, Alaska, California, Florida and Georgia and Hawaii. I'm a southerner by choice and heart. I spent my teenage years in Georgia.

5. I climbed trees every chance I got, even in dresses. I loved to be in the tallest tree I could find on windy days.

6. I had a black pet rabbit that was housebroken. He did really well in the house until he discovered electric cords. I had to build a cage for him and put him outside so he wouldn't electrocute himself and burn down the house. He didn't last one night. Something, or someone, got him out in the middle of the night.

7. I hated spinach and when forced to eat it…you know, "you're not leaving this table until you eat your spinach!" I'd throw it back up. Not intentionally, of course. Now I love it.

8. As a tyke I pulled up the biggest onions out of my grandmothers garden and ate them. I also ate peanut butter and onion sandwiches growing up. Funny, my stomach can't handle raw onions anymore.

9. I didn't like to eat regular breakfasts. I liked left over pie, or cream of chicken soup for breakfast when I could talk my mom into it.

10. I had a fanciful mind. I was always getting into trouble for day-dreaming and drawing all over my papers and books in school, and at home. My grades weren't very good. One, for moving all the time, and the other being a daydreamer. Back then daydreamers didn't amount to very much in the teacher's eyes. I turned out to be a writer and artist.

11. I was a ballerina until I got too tall. I loved to dance and loved classical music as a child. I was also going to grow up and be an airline stewardess until I got too tall for that too.

12. My imagination always got me into trouble. If I didn't like my circumstance, which I often didn't, I'd invent tales. I loved it when we moved often. I'd usually gotten myself into so much trouble by the end of the school term that I was happy to start over someplace new. Preferably, clear across the country.

13. At sixteen I got my driver's license as a birthday gift from the Sheriff. He was a friend of the family. I never had to take a drivers test until I was in my thirties, and only then because I had let it expire.



The purpose of the meme is to get to know everyone who participates a little bit better every Thursday. Visiting fellow Thirteeners is encouraged! If you participate, leave the link to your Thirteen in others comments. It’s easy, and fun! Be sure to update your Thirteen with links that are left for you, as well! I will link to everyone who participates and leaves a link to their 13 things. Trackbacks, pings, comment links accepted!

Wordless Wednesday: I Know, I Know, I'm Late With It...

Cats on Tuesday: ?

For more great stories about cats...visit Gattina's site.

Believe in yourself

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I apologize to all my friends on COT. I'm having technical difficulties with life this week and will post a cat story next week. DDB

Yeah, I Know...Everybody's Finished HP But Me...Still Reading

Taking a Reading and Writing Holiday...I'll Be Back on Tuesday

I was waiting for one my daughters to get her HP book to start reading it along with her. She got it, so I'm taking a sort of reading holiday. Plus I'm behind in my writing so I'll be busy writing, too. Have a good weekend everybody. I'll be back to post the Cats on Tuesday. Feel free to leave comments, I'll read them. Gretchen will be posting everyday. She's anxiously waiting for Yoggie's bean's to return so I said she could post.