Cat Chronicles: Day Four

Tuesday, June 4th we are still getting used to our new family members. It’s slow-going, but Chase has really surprised us all. He’s a good and patient teacher. Dash is a pain at times, but Chase has been so good with him. I love our Chasey-boy.

The ever-patient Chase:

We are noticing similarities between Ginger and Meg. Sometimes it feels like the ghost of Ginger is with us.


usIf I were to try to put into words how much you mean to me, this would be my pitiful attempt. When we met nearly half my life (28 years) ago, I was 29. I lived with my widowed mother. I worked full-time as an administrative assistant at an ad agency. I had friends but not much of a life.

You changed all of that. Right from the start I was comfortable with you. You made me laugh. You were easy to talk to. You made me feel alive, and you made my heart beat faster.

When you told me that you were falling in love with me, it seemed too soon. It didn’t seem possible. I was slower to surrender my heart. Twenty-eight years later that love is what keeps me going every day. That love has been strong, steadfast and true.

We have made a beautiful life together, pledging our love to one another before God, family and friends. We became a family, each other’s emotional anchor, best friend and reason for being. Together we found a home. Together we created two wonderful, young men. Together our love has grown stronger, forming an unbreakable bond.

They say that absence makes the heart grow fonder. Your job takes you away from me for most of the week, and I only see you on weekends. We treat each separation as we have any other adversity we’ve faced over the past 28 years. We don’t let it defeat us. Yes, I still cry when you leave, but the adversity makes our love stronger. The separation makes the being together part that much sweeter.

I like that we are different, and we have different interests. Underneath it all, though, we’re the same. We’ve always had the same values, similar backgrounds and beliefs. We try very hard to put “us” before anything else. When all is said and done, “us” is what is the most important.

As we wrap up just over a week’s vacation time together, I realize again how very fortunate I am to have you. Reality intrudes on us in just a few short days, and you must go back out onto the road, and I must go back to sitting behind a desk in an office. Thank you for this week. Thank you for being mine. I love you.


A to Z Blog Challenge – T is for Tillie


Tillie was running late for work when she hurried into the school building from the staff parking lot. She waved hello to the hallway monitor as she quickly moved down the hallway towards her office.

“Good morning, Lois,” she called to the department secretary as she entered their work area.

“Hi, Tillie,” Lois smiled, “Annelise is in the small conference room. She’s been working on a picture while she was waiting.”

Tillie took a moment to hang up her coat and put her purse away. When she was ready, she joined the little girl in the small meeting room.

“Good morning, Annelise, how are you?” Tillie asked.

“I’m okay,” she said.

“My name is Mrs. McGrew,” Tillie said, “I’m the school psychologist. Do you know what a psychologist is?”

Annelise shook her head ‘no’.

“I try to help people,” Tillie said, “I listen to them when they are sad or mad or upset. Sometimes people need to talk to someone, and it makes them feel better when they do. Do you know why you’re here, sweetie?”

She nodded. “I was crying in the classroom.”

“Yes,” Tillie said, “Miss Gleason told me, and we both talked to your Mommy. We all thought you might like someone to talk to. Would it be okay if we talked?”

Annelise nodded.

“Can you show me what you were drawing?”

Annelise sat back from her drawing, and Tillie turned it so she could see it better.

“Where is this?” Tillie asked.

“The park,” Annelise said.

“Who is that sitting on the bench?”

“Grandpa Barney,” Annelise said, “He’s my friend.”

“I see,” Tillie smiled, “Is that a dog?”

“Yes and a squirrel.”

“Is Grandpa Barney your grandfather?” Tillie asked.

“No, he’s my friend and neighbor. He’s sick.”

“Oh, sweetie, I’m sorry to hear that,” Tillie said.

“He won’t get better,” Annelise said in a tiny voice.

Tillie put her arm around Annelise’s shoulders to give her a hug.

“He has Alzheimer’s,” Annelise said.

“I’m sorry,” Tillie said again. “Tell me about Grandpa Barney.”

Annelise talked about her friendship with the old man who lived in the building across from her own and how they had met while Barney was sitting in the park, enjoying the sunshine. Although Barney did not speak much, he was always glad to see her. He always listened to everything she had to say with a twinkle in his eye. She told Tillie how she saved her allowance to buy Barney ice cream cones and how he liked the chocolate ones the best. She also told Tillie how her Mommy was friends with Barney’s daughter, Chloe.

“They sound like a very nice family,” Tillie said, “You are lucky to know them.”

“Yes,” Annelise nodded.

They talked about Barney for several more minutes, and they worked on finishing Annelise’s drawing together.

“I’d like to meet with you again,” Tillie said, “Maybe we could meet a few mornings each week, and we could talk about Barney some more. Would you like that?”

“Yes,” Annelise said.

“I will work out a schedule with Miss Gleason,” Tillie said.

When Annelise had gone back to her classroom, Tillie went into her office to make some notes on their session together. She gave them to Lois to type up, and she asked her to coordinate with Annelise’s teacher to set up further meetings.

Image courtesy of Pinterest


Daily Post: A Name for Yourself

Some writers’ names have become adjectives: Kafkaesque, marxist, Orwellian, sadistic. If your name (or nickname, or blog name) were to become an adjective, what would it mean?

mrskyndleyKindly.  My adjective would be ‘kindly’. In the old Thomas the Tank Engine videos that my sons used to watch when they were small boys, there was a character called “Mrs. Kyndley”. I wouldn’t mind being Mrs. Kyndley. Everyone liked her. She was a sweet and helpful character.

I was raised to believe the do-unto-others way of life or “do unto others as you would have them do unto you”. I believe you get back what you give out. I try to treat others with kindness and respect. I’m not perfect, though, and if there are others that I truly don’t care for, I just choose to not associate with them. Perhaps that’s not treating them with kindness, but it’s better than treating them with open aggression.

onionThere are too many angry, rude, obnoxious and aggressive people in the world today. I think we’d be a lot happier and get along a lot better with others if we’d take a deep breath and count to ten before we spoke when we are out in public. Hubby and I ate out last night at Outback Steakhouse. Our server was having a bit of a rough evening. She never brought us napkins or silverware. We ate our blooming onion with nothing to wipe our hands on and with nothing to wipe up the inevitable spills. She brought me a refill on a drink and brought the wrong drink. I heard the table behind my Hubby whine and complain about something they didn’t like, and a table adjacent to us complained angrily about an item that she’d gotten wrong. She kept apologizing. We didn’t complain. We just politely told her what we wanted and asked to have things corrected, and we still left her a generous tip. As my Hubby said, “truckers are known for being generous”.

Being generous and kind doesn’t hurt anyone.

Image from