Last One

I have written several odes to this cat since beginning the blog two years ago. Tonight will be the last one.

I have been warning DH about her imminent demise since we began dating 13 years ago. The warnings reached a point of ridiculosity when finally a year or two ago, he turned to me and said, "That cat's going to outlive you. She will outlive us all."

The last year or so has been the first we've seen of her showing signs of age. However, she has continued to eat a little and drink a little every day to the end.

She did not become ill or have any external injuries. To the contrary, we realized she had not shown up for her water, nor screeched at us from the bed to come join her, and I got up in the night to go look for her. I had to really look, searching her traditional hiding places, until I found her. When I did, I thought perhaps she was asleep, and called loudly to her, as her hearing has left her in recent months. Finally, I reached for her, and realized she was gone.

We think DS2 was about 9 the year he brought her home to save her from the cold and certain death. DS2 turned 30 last year which would make this dear old cat 21 at that time. We named her Frances, after the little girl in the Frances books by Russell and Lillian Hoban. Only in the past 10 years or so have we altered the name to Francie.

The picture you see at the top of this page looks like a kitten, but it was taken last fall; she was somewhere around 20 years old.

She survived life with other cats: Jennifer, the sleek black cat we had in Virginia. Jennifer died the day after DS2 left for Boot Camp. (It was a tough week for me!) Molly, the giant white powder puff DH had when we married. Ever see the move Lady and the Tramp? There's a pair of cats in that movie that remind me of Molly. Molly passed away shortly after we moved into this house 10 years ago. Unfortunately we attended a large Christmas Extravaganza in Nearby Large Town the same day, and I'll be darned if there weren't Pet Portrait booths at every turn. I felt so so guilty and sorry for DH who kept his game face on to the end. She has co-existed with Daniel now for about 3 years. Daniel is a giant but gentle as a ....well, as a kitten. He has deferred to her so nicely.

She has survived about a zillion moves. We almost lost her when we moved from VA to NC. The movers freaked her out and she ran for it. Fortunately, ex-H, who had zero affinity for cats, continued to search for her for 4 days and drove her to NC when he finally found her. Yes, he's a pretty nice guy.

I remember the night she turned on a lamp and we asked her to turn it off. She did. I clearly remember DS2 on that Sunday morning, standing there in his Glen plaid suit, framed in the large doorway of our Virginia house, holding her in his suit jacket. Her eyes were matted and closed and her chest rattled and wheezed as she struggled to breathe.

She slept with me when my mother died, when my earlier marriage failed, when a child ran away from home, when DS2 joined the Marines. She sensed when I did not feel well, and knew whether to cuddle close or to gve me space. Like me, she adored to be petted, and purred louder than any cat I've ever known when we did take the time to pet her.

We worked hard to save her life, that first week in Virginia, and in many ways over the years, she has returned the favor for me. Good night, Francie.

Great Image

I was exploring our little garden early this morning: looking for new veggies, pulling up a weed here and there, checking out all the little bat-ropes our cukes have thrown up since we caged them last weekend. I was also checking for vandalism. I scared away a blue jay yesterday when I drove in the driveway, and earlier, when I was on the phone inside, I saw our neighborhood rabbit scampering away from the garden. Thankfully, I did not see any damage.
We do have about 5 new yellow pear tomatoes forming, the tiny kind. They look like tiny light bulbs. Zillions of cucumbers, a couple of tiny beefsteak tomatoes starting, and buds are forming on the beans. Two of the pepper plants have lots of buds on them, but I believe they're the hot pepper plants. The bell pepper plant is not too prolific. The herbs are all doing well. We have 3 sage plants, parsley, 2 basil plants, dill, lemon thyme, cilantro, and of course our hardy rosemary bushes. They are at least 5 years old and take over the place. I keep hacking them back and they come back stronger than ever. Oh yes, and the also-hardy mint! A neighbor asked for some in the spring, and I had to warn him: be careful what you ask for. It's the next generation of kudzu.
As I was exploring the garden, the bees were buzzing around, busily collecting pollen from the blooms. I saw the most amazing image and doggone, did not have a camera handy. The image was so transitory I knew that I did not have time to run for one.
You know how the sun can strike a bloom and the petals just glow? As if they were illuminated from within? Well, a couple of the cucumber blooms were in the sunlight at just the perfect angle so that the yellow was just vivid. And there, inside one bloom, was a bee, doing his thing. His shadow appeared on the outside of the bloom with such detail, it was amazing. I just froze, there, leaning over, my hand still grasping a weed in the ground. He left the one bloom and entered another that was just as lit up as the first, and again, I had this grand shadow-movie of his activity inside the bloom.
I am trying to describe it as I am much better with words than with cameras anyway, but this may be one of those things you would just have to see. Take my word for it, it was breathtaking.
I always try to be a person who appreciates small pleasures, and this was surely one.

Cool and Beautiful Morning

Ah, the sun is shining and the birds are singing. The air is cool and dry. What could be better? I just won a game of spades on line and DH is practicing his violin. He likes it better than the guitar! ...but he, ahem, plays the guitar with a little more skill. He'll get there! I am amazed how on earth he can find the notes on the violin. There are no frets, and the angle of the bow, and the pressure, seem to make a difference. Too complex for me!

In case you haven't seen it, I wrote an homage to my dad on Father's Day in our little local paper. You can read it here. I wrote two additional articles for Father's Day for that same edition; all three were about following in your father's footsteps. The other two are here and here.

LO is at Youth Conference for church with the twins and our Youth Pastor. I talked with the YP yesterday and she reports LO is having a grand time. She had just seen LO in a canoe on the lake with the twins going around in circles, laughing her head off. She has tennis camp at the local college next week and art classes the week after.

The garden is doing well. We have enjoyed the veggies of our labor and more is to come. It appears to be a good thing we like cucumbers; there are a thousand blooms.

DH and I have a day ahead of us with no one else around, and no work to get go to. I can't remember when that has happened. Will we paint something? Will we fix something? Or will we hang out? Think I'll go find out. ...Til next time, bye.

Dear Nephew and Fam

We traveled on Saturday to visit our Dear Nephew, his lovely wife and two precious girls. DN deploys to Iraq, dammit, this week, and we made the journey to have time with them and say goodbye to him before he goes. It was a 2hr, 45 minute trip each way, and definitely worth any trouble and time it took.

Their little house is just great. The girls love their room and it is all decorated just beautifully. It's bright and sunny. Niece-in-law is very capable and just does a great job making it a home for their fam.

They cooked hot dogs and hammies (including a not-hammie for moi!) on the grill, and we also had salad, corn, beans, chips, and pickles. Wow. Homemade cheesecake an hour or two later and we rolled home.

We got lost on the way home, navigator problems, and decided to go home via the southern route rather than the northern route. It was 1/2 hour quicker and much more pleasant.

We got home tired but happy. More good news is DH helped with housework on Sunday and we finished sososo quickly.

The cam is somewhere and I will post the few photos we took soon.

Of Hairballs and Other Delights of Spring

We believe our cat Francie is about 22 years old. She's so old, we just can't remember. I believe DS2 was about 9 the day he brought her home to save her. A tiny kitten, on the coldest day in a raw Virginia winter, eyes still shut, lungs rattling as she strove to breathe. And save her he did. We kept her in a shoebox with an electric light above, and fed her warm milk with an eyedropper. DS2 gave her lots of love, and to this day, she recognizes him and readily sleeps with him when he comes home.
Francie has always been phobic of strangers, hiding in a closet or a drawer or even jumping up on a bed under the quilt. Many a time we have given friends a house tour with an unseemly lump in the guest bed.
The changes in Francie as she aged have been gradual. She moves a little more slowly now, and has become more assertive with the other pets. Her tummy is a little more tender than it was before, so it is my pleasure to clean up bloops where her "hairball relief" cat food lies in a puddle of water and bile. After all, how old is 22 in cat years? She has jumped to the bathroom lav every morning that we've had her, for her morning drink. It is my habit to turn the lav water on to a little trickle so she can drink while I take my shower.
Francie's leap to the lav has become slower and more intentional than in days past. She used to bound effortlessly up to the top of the lav. A few years ago, she began to jump on the john, then turn and jump the rest of the way up to the lav.
Now, she stands beside the john, back paws on the floor, front paws on the john, and thinks for a long time. She stands there, looking at her intended goal. I imagine she is thinking, "Can I make it?" or perhaps, "Push with the back ones, push hard." Many days I just scoop her up and place her on the rim of the lav for her drink. She always scolds me as if to say, "I could have made it myself."
Yesterday was just such a day.
I was in the shower washing my hair when I heard Francie winding up for a good old hurl. "Rrf, rrf, rrf," The stomach muscles were working to push it out.
Now sometimes I can catch her before it happens and hold her over the open john. (We keep our johns closed so that Daniel, her nemesis, won't drink john water.)
"Franceeeeeeeeeeee," I called as I swept the shower curtain open, wet, and covered in shampoo lather. I reached for her just as she neatly barfed all over a stack of clean, white, folded towels. A hairball as big as your thumb lay neatly in the middle of it all.
Sigh. I love that cat.

On a lighter note, we cooked weenies over the fire last night, again. We are doing so again, tonight. Guests who were invited last night had a little one under the weather and asked for a rain check, but LO had already invited a gf over so we went ahead last night and planned a repeat performance for tonight. I'm getting pretty good at packing baskets with just the right stuff to carry outside. It's a good, wholesome time. The girls swing on the giant swing and chat and catch marshmallows on fire. The birds sing to us till they settle down for the night. The fireflies come out and then we gather all our stuff and head inside.

What is it?

The lady who lived in our house first was named Helen, and legend has it that she was quite the gardner. Even though our little veg garden lies where her rose garden stood, we have a giant *something* from her legacy. One neighbor told us she grew elephant garlic there. We are uncertain what it is. It comes back every spring, blooms, and ebbs away. We enjoy watching it but it has never multiplied. Here is a shot to show you how tall it is:

She is a little over 5' tall, so the plant must be close. To the left, you can see our spinach, a little kale, and peas. The tomatoes are sort of behind the iris. And 4 pepper plants are behind Little One.

After we came in, she was hanging out in the b.y. with our ndn's. Here is a picture:

It's a beautiful day and we are all enjoying it. LO leaves for youth group soon and DH leaves for work in just an hour. Then it's all over for another week!

Planting at the Park

Not sure where I read it, and of course I can't find on the web right now, but someone, somewhere, said you live longer if you live in a place where people have a strong sense of community.

We had a great showing today for our second Planting Saturday, the first having been 2 weeks ago. About 30 folks came out for the work, including kids, and we worked hard for 2 hours. I am so glad I did not wear my contacts as the salt in my eyes was blinding.

The very large guy standing at his truck is the landscape architect. Don't let his size fool you. He is a work-HORSE. He does the work - and sweats -- for 3 or 4 guys. The lady in black pants with her rear to the camera is the Parks Director. These folks don't usually DO manual labor -- they have people who do that. But they came on their own personal Saturday morning and worked HARD. Why? I am not sure, but it has something to do with our neighborhood partnership. They have surely shown their commitment to us. We gotta do something nice for them when this is all over.

The Kids' Committee met while we planted, and made their final selections for the playground. The Parks Director measured the playground out on the ground, 17' in diameter, and the landscape architect used his wheelie-spray-paint-thingie to mark the circle on the grass. It's getting exciting, to see the park start to develop. I had the idea only 2 years, 4 months ago, and we have already developed the partnership with the city, raised most of the money, (all of the money for phases 1 and 2), had the whole park designed (patterned after F.L. Olmstead's designs -- he was doing this 100 years ago when the neighborhood was built--) cleaned it up, planted beautiful grass, put up the sign, built one bridge over the creek (thank you Eagle Scout candidate) ordered pavers, installed the sign, selected the playground vendor, and designed the playground. Now it is gaining real momentum. They are ordering the benches next week and the playground will go in, in about 8 weeks.

The weather was beautiful this morning -- sunny, clear and warm. The mockingbirds serenaded us as we laughed, grunted, worked.

The plants we put in on the hill were in 3-gallon containers, so we had to dig those holes rather large, not so easy on a steep incline. On my third bush, my shovel kept clinking on something. I gingerly tapped my shovel into the ground around it. Clink, clink. "Believe I've got concrete slab here!" I called out. "Oh don't be such a priss," retorted my gf. (Only she could get away with such a comment.)

A fellow who lives somewhat behind us came over with his shovel. Clink, clink. He found the edge, and dug up a 16"x28" piece of concrete, 5" thick. I helped pry it up and we rolled it down the hill. Joyous, I looked over at gf. " Priss," I said. We laughed and laughed. Boy, was I glad it was legit, or I really would have looked like a priss.

We had bought a couple cases of water with neighborhood money, and it was well-chilled in a cooler. We all worked, sweated, drank water, and dug some more. The park is coming along!

We are already thinking ahead to the party we will have when it opens.

Fontana

We returned, thankfully, home this evening after 5 days at our time-share in the mountains. LO invited a friend to go with her, and the friend's parents accompanied us for the weekend. DH's parents joined us on Easter Sunday, the friend's parents overlapped by just an hour, the inlaws left early yesterday, and we came home today.

The campus there offers an indoor pool, basketball, tennis, bike trails and bike rentals, an outdoor pool with waterslide in season, hiking, softball, putt-putt, and probably more but I cannot remember. We left with great expectations of an activity-filled 5 days. We knew it would be cold but did not realize just how cold.

LO and her friend made friends with a girl whose grandmother works at the place, so she had "wheels," the unlimited use of a golf-cart. She ably piloted it about the campus, up the mountain, and who knows where else. She's a good girl, respectful, and a careful driver. She shared 3 meals with us and was a sweet friend to the girls. Sunday was her last day there. The girls missed her, and the wheels, terribly, yesterday.

It was too cold for much outdoor fun, but we did get in a little swimming, a putt-putt game, a little soccer, and the annual ping pong championship. Surprise, DH won. (Again.)

Saw a few good films. If you haven't seen, 'Pursuit of HappYness,' we highly recommend it, but we guess we were the last ones on earth who had not seen it. I plan to read the book.

We cooked lots of good meals. Our little friend's mom helped tons in the kitchen and we worked so well together.

It was good to get away. We rested, laughed with friends, and saw DH's parents for the first time in forever.

My DMIL is the Cook of the Earth and brought a chocolate cake to die for. When we got the car packed up today, everything fit -- except the rest of the cake. No problem. I assembled DH, the 2 girls and myself in a circle around the cake. Each had a spoon and we had the ceremonial Downing of the Cake.

Perfect.

Mayor's Spirit

I had the most delightful day on Tuesday: I was invited to our Mayor's Spirit luncheon at noon and then to the dedication of our Integration Historic Marker at 5:30.

The Mayor's Spirit luncheon has been held for 12 years now. Its intention is to gather people of all races together to celebrate the spirit of unity. The actual luncheon was held in City Hall, right in the room where meetings are held, and about 20 8-top rounds were squoze right in there. There was hardly room to walk between tables but that sort of made it more fun.

The speaker was an older gentleman who was the first to sit in the whites-only section of the local movie theater, which is no longer standing. A parking lot now sits between our newspaper building and a row of businesses, in downtown SmallTown.

He attended the local mostly-black college, and integration was an issue across the south at that time -- 1964. He and three buddies, also 3 "light" girls and the one white student, walked from the college to the theater. The 4 black fellows bought tickets for the upstairs, where blacks had to sit at that time, and the white guy and 3 "light" girls bought tickets for the downstairs, white-only section. Then, they traded tickets. The 4 lighter-complected folks went upstairs, and the four black fellows trooped into the main seating. Don't you know their hearts were pounding!!

The ticket lady called the manager and he begged the boys not to proceed. He did not want a scene. The young men assured them they were entirely peaceful; they felt it was time for integration to come to SmallTown. The manager pled with them; he was retiring soon and they could cause a scene in only a month. But the group had walked all that way with this one intention, and they were pretty determined.

So the manager called the police. The boys were arrested. Apparently the lighter-skinned folks' invasion of the upstairs was not against the law. They were not arrested.

The boys went to the jailhouse. They were told to stand outside until the back door could be unlocked.

The man, in recounting the story, recalled the irony of being arrested and then being told to stand outside the jail.

Inside, they sang and prayed until their college president bailed them out in the morning. The theater integrated within 2 weeks and the rest of the town followed that year.

The man is a pastor in Buffalo, NY, and flew down for the day. He stands about 5'5" tall, and wears a large white collar to denote his profession. He walks with a cane, but stands proudly and told his story with a great deal of gentle humor to relieve the tension of the story. It was a great story and I felt so lucky to hear it first-hand.

That afternoon, we all met again, this time at the site of the theater, where a large bronze plaque had been set into the sidewalk commemorating the activity at the theater. At the top was a short poem written in 1924 by a local black guy that went something like this:

"You can write a tune of sorts on the black keys;
You can write a tune of sorts on the white keys;
But it takes both keys to make a harmony."

In the center of the plaque was a condensed version of the story and across the bottom of the plaque are raised piano keys. The plaque was unveiled, photos were taken, and we walked across the street to a reception.

This small city has a public art committee that is developing about 50 similar plaques to spread all across the town. At some point in the future, you will be able to get a booklet from the tourism office, and follow the history of the city by following the trail of plaques from here to there and back again.

It was a very nice affair and I will remember it always.