Cat Chronicles: Day 119 – September 27, 2019

Today in the U S., it’s Thanksgiving. I’m thankful, as always, for my family. My guys are good to me. Family, of course, includes the four-legged variety. I am so grateful this year that I took a chance.

I was looking for another orange cat, having had two (Raymond and Ginger) who were my best buddies. Not finding one right away, I had several stops and starts, cats I inquired about and was supposed to go see but backed out for some reason. It didn’t feel right.

Then I saw Dalai. She wasn’t pretty, and she wasn’t really orange. They had her listed at various times as an orange tiger and a red tabby. She’s buff colored. She’d been known by many names – Honey Bear, Dalai and April are the ones listed on her paperwork. I’m not sure of her history and how she got where she was.

She came in with two kittens. Then they gave her two more motherless scraps to foster. She nursed all four of them. When I met her, she was reclusive and shy, underfed, gentle and timid. I didn’t even get a good look at her. She wouldn’t come out of the cat tree she was hiding in. I talked to her for several minutes and chanced reaching in to touch her. She purred the entire time.

While this was going on, the four kittens wandered around and hid, too. I was talking to the foster parent when the little male kitten, also described as a red tabby but creamy like his Mommy, climbed right up my leg to get into my face. I had no intention of adopting a kitten ever. They were too much work, my house is too cluttered, and I have an elderly bird.

This kitten would not be denied. When I told the foster that I’d take a chance and take Dalai, I looked down at the kitten clinging to my t-shirt and said, “Too bad you’re spoken for because you’re cute as a button.” As it turned out, Dakin also known as Alex, wasn’t yet claimed. The people who had been scheduled to come see him backed out. He was available. I’d never been chosen by a cat before. I always picked them.

Since Dalai was so shy, I thought having Dakin with her would help. He became mine, too.

Dalai became Nutmeg (Meg). Dakin became Dash (a dash of nutmeg). I am glad I took them both. The adoption fee was waived on Mommy. She’s the best free cat I ever got.

They keep us amused with their antics every day. I can’t imagine life without them.

Happy Thanksgiving!

Yes, he’s under the covers. He’s just weird.

Aging Semi-Gracefully

You know you’re getting older most days just looking in the mirror. More wrinkles, gray hair, and things sagging that once were firm.

The gray hair has been there since I was a teen. My Gramma went white when she was in her 20’s and no one ever remembered her with darker hair. I have had my hair every color possible because why not? My biggest personal indulgence is my monthly hair salon visit. A natural brunette, I’ve gone blonde with pink highlights to help hide the white roots. You know you’re getting older when the few stray dark chin hairs you used to pluck out have turned white.

I was blessed with good genes as far as wrinkles go. It wasn’t until I turned 60 that wrinkles really started to catch up with me. I’ve been blessed not to have looked my age. Once the youngest in my office (I was 19 when I started my very first job, a temp job at a bank), I am now the old broad, the oldest one in my department. You know you’re getting older when you’ve been tasked with training (multiple) people. I spend a good portion of my day imparting my knowledge to others. After all I’m not going to be doing this forever.

I was never a star athlete or much of a fitness nut. I was fit enough in my 30’s to join a gym and work out every day at lunch time. Now I find myself working in the very same building with free access to the very same gym. I’m 60. I know I’m not dead, but I have zero interest in jumping around in an aerobics class as I once did. I could walk a treadmill or ride a stationary bike, but the things that once worked well enough for that no longer cooperate as they once did. You know you’re getting older when you add your name to the list of people in need of assistance during a fire drill.

I fell down the stairs a number of years ago and I have a knee that’s had physical therapy. It refuses to cooperate and swells up every so often. It buckles when I go down stairs. I have Achilles’ tendons with calcium deposits and a bum ankle from spraining it twice in my youth. I work on the 19th floor now. Walking down all of those stairs for a fire drill isn’t an option for me. If I don’t have to, I’m not going to. Period. Hell, yes, add me to the list. You know you’re getting older when your pride doesn’t hold you back from asking for help.

Yes, age has its benefits. I no longer care what others think nor do I walk around worrying about what they might be saying about me. Nope. I wear leggings, capris or yoga pants. No more tight waistbands for me. I remember lying down to zip up snug-fitting jeans and then looking damned good in them. I also got gas cramps and itchy grooves dug into my belly. Now I wear baggy, triple x sized t-shirts. I’m not that fat. I just don’t like anything tight or clinging. I wear flats 24/7. I used to stuff my feet into spiked heels, and I’m 5’9”. Now I wear sneakers to work, and I wear slacks and baggy blouses. I used to wear business suits, stockings and color matched high heels. I dressed for success. Did I ever succeed? Nope. So now I’m comfortable. You know you’re getting older when comfort comes before fashion.

I’ve reached the age where I can eat off of the 55 Plus menu or do the early bird specials. Do I? Nope. I’m not quite ready for that level of senior citizen label. I probably should because my digestion these days doesn’t allow me to scarf down bad food. I’d rather be hungry than sorry tomorrow. I only eat what agrees with me. You know you’re getting older when you order a full meal and walk away leaving most of it still on your plate.

You know you’re getting older when you can feel it in your bones. Age is freeing, but aging is permanent. The years slip by before you know it, and you can’t get them back. So take those instrument lessons you always wanted to or put pink streaks in your hair. Play live on stage with a band. Adopt a kitten while you’re still young enough to chase them around.

You know you’re getting older. Hurry up before it’s too late.

Better

I returned to work on Thursday and made it through my short work week of two days. It felt more like two weeks! I haven’t felt overwhelming exhaustion like this since I had newborns in the house. Recovering from this infection is hard work. 

After three weeks away from my job, my ‘to do’ stack is, of course, mountainous. The urgent things got done while I was out. Everything else is waiting for me to pick back up again. It will take some time to get closer to caught up. I’m never completely caught up with everything. That’s impossible in my job. 

Right now I’m operating at nowhere near my usual level of performance. Thursday I was at about 60%. Friday I was closer to 80%. I stayed the full day both days, but I was staggering tired by the time I left. My weekend is all about resting up and recharging. It is much needed. 

I picked up my guitar again Saturday night for the first time in three weeks. I had been too sick to touch it before this. I canceled four weeks of lessons and stopped playing. I actually thought I did okay tonight. It didn’t sound entirely bad. Most of what I know and learned came right back. Newer notes and chords were harder to remember. The strings hurt my fingers again. I noticed some of the calluses and blisters I had developed peeled off while I was sick. I’ll have to build them back up again. 

I sampled something different for dinner Saturday, too. I ate a few cheese ravioli but only a trace amount of sauce. I’m starting to develop more of an appetite again, and that’s a good sign, too. 

Meme courtesy of Pinterest 

Tenacious Tuesday #1

For my first post on a Tuesday in 2018, I’m introducing Tenacious Tuesday. Tenacious Tuesday is all about hanging tough and keeping going. When the going gets tough, the tough get going.

I’d like to think that is what I do on a daily basis. I keep going. 2018 is about keeping going for me. I will persevere and rise above.

I’m going to try something a little bit different this year on Heron, There & Everywhere. I’d like to attempt to follow a themed approach. Each day will have its own theme. I’ve tried to stick with what I know and what I like.

Mondays will be Musical Monday. I will write about anything music-related from my favorite bands, songs or concerts. Music is a huge part of my daily life.

Tuesdays will be Tenacious Tuesday. Tenacious Tuesday will be about challenges and hanging in there when life knocks me down. As a trucker’s wife, every day is a challenge.

Wednesdays will be Wellness Wednesday, and I’ll write about anything health-related that my family deals with – autism, ADHD, diabetes, celiac disease, diverticulitis, etc.

Thursdays will be Thoughtful Thursday. Those posts will be more random in nature from poetry to creative writing to random musings.

Fridays will be Fictional Friday, and that will be the day I post book reviews and anything book-related.

Saturdays will be Sentimental Saturday. I will write about my favorite things. My beloved squirrels will probably show up here.

Sundays will be Silent Sunday. This day will be photos only, no words. I love photography and have thousands of photos.

It is my hope that following a more organized approach will keep me writing more consistently in 2018. Please let me know what you think.