Hickories Park, Owego

The weekend is moving way too fast, as weekends do. I did manage to get the lawn mowed and trimmed so that it looks reasonably respectable. While having a forest in the backyard can be pretty, trimming around all those trees is a bit of a bear.

I returned two cats to the Owego/Lisle farm, and took the three kittens to the Tompkins SPCA where they will get adopted far more quickly than here. So I have no cats at all in the downstairs section of the barn. This pleases me, since I've been having the nervous jitters about having any cats down there with the bear hanging out.

He came by earlier this week, and then again tonight. It was still light out when he showed up today, and he did run when I yelled at him and he could see me, unlike the other night when he just kept wandering around the house despite my yells. I had been planning on taking Wings over to his new home, but called and cancelled. It's a long walk from the car to the house when there's a bear lurking around.

So far he has left the dumpster alone. I put a piece of wood on top so I'll be able to tell if he tries to get inside.

After I chased the bear off, I yelled "Bear's out!" as loud as I could across the neighborhood. It must have had some impact, because all the parties seemed to wrap up and go quiet immediately afterward. I'm guessing they moved inside.

I stopped at Hickories Park in Owego on my way back from the farm, and had a fast-food dinner sitting on the bank watching the river go by.

I love the smiles

A few years ago, my mother gifted me with family crystal. "Crystal" and "cats" are a disastrous combination, so the crystal has remained safely packed away. In fact, I'd only unwrapped one wine glass so I could see what it looked like. I wasn't even sure what I possessed, but I didn't want to disturb the protective wrapping and risk having something break while in storage in my upstairs kneewall.

I've been thinking about bringing it out, but I don't own a china cabinet. My friend Debra offered a small hutch she had in storage, but I hadn't gotten around to taking her up on the offer.

Then one day, as I idly poked through Craiglist, I came across an all-glass cabinet for $30.

Only thirty bucks? It was way too early on a Saturday morning to call the poster, but then I saw it had been posted just a few minutes earlier. Whoever it was, they were already up. I called, claimed it, and then later in the day I called my friend Nancy, who works at her grooming shop on Saturdays, to see if I could rope her into helping me load it in my car.

Unwrapping the crystal was a joy and a perplexity. The glasses are beautiful, but I'm not sure what they are all used for. Water, wine, brandy, and cordial? I love the tiniest cordial glasses, and all the twisted amber stems. In the gold great room, it's as if I planned the match.

Believe me, I did not.

Do click to expand the photos if your computer will handle it, just to see those beautiful stems.

I hope my mom will be happy to see the crystal finally on display. In fact, when I had friends over, the cabinet was the first place they went. While I may be too terrified to use it, it will at least get looked at.

It occurred to me that there was room to add other family heirlooms I had received over the years, so I took the alabaster doves and the leaded cream and sugar set that my mother had given me, and added them as well.

So now most of my family treasures are in one place.

Molly doesn't care, although she does like the great room on Sundays, since she is allowed on the couch while I read the Sunday paper.

I was going to start out with a rant about taming my paperwork.

Then I got the nicest Facebook post. It's 6am. I'm on my second cup of coffee. I've already got 5 inches of paper on the "recycle" pile as I divest myself of paper that I'm been allowing to assist in disrupting my life. Up pops this cute photo of three kittens:

And you're thinking: "Okay, cute. But not earth-shaking. What's the point?"

(First off, as soon as I see these kittens, my brain immediately starts rattling away, wondering if they are recovering from anesthesia as a pediatric spay/neuter clinic, and if the volunteers made those little wake-up suits...but, not my point)

The point is, the post specifically put on my wall is from a person I knew in high school. She was quite nice to me in high school. However, let's be clear, I was not exactly in the highest social sphere at Norwich Middle and High School. I was lucky enough to have relocated from my childhood school (where I was considered a certifiable cootie girl) to Norwich, where I escaped my past reputation for highwaters and cat-eyed glasses. In Norwich, my earliest friends told me outright that wearing pants with stretch elastic waists would doom me for eternity (I begged for my first pair of jeans on my 14th birthday and got them. Wranglers. What was the name of that store on main street in Norwich? I do recall the wood floors).

There were kids up the social ladder who could be despicable to the mid-to-bottom dwellers. And there were kids up the social ladder who tolerated us. And then there were the handful of kids up the social ladder who somehow had managed to hang out there near the top of the food chain, and still manage to be sincerely nice to everyone. Not beaming nice. Not sticky sweet nice. Just plain good people. I'm not sure how one manages to be "good people" when you are dealing with the horrors of being 17, but lots of kids somehow manage it.

At any rate, I had absolutely lost track of this person in the passage of three decades, until the advent of Facebook. And on Facebook, you have lots of "friends" who are really just people you used to know. I tracked down one high school friend, which meant I was suddenly connected to a vast number of other people in that high school sphere. This was a huge help when reunion time rolled around. I now knew that one person was into running, another person had three kids, etc. I am sure Facebook has improved the high school reunion experience exponentially.

This morning, on my wall, this little cat photo appears. From this particular high school acquaintance who has no real reason to think of me at 6 am other than the fact that she saw this cute kitten photo, knew I work with cats because innumerable cat posts cross her Facebook news scroller that originate from me, and she takes the time to post this photo to me.

I'm sure I wasn't on her to-do list today.

So instead of dashing off a rant about the slavery of paperwork, I'm posting about people just plain being thoughtful and nice.

See what one little gesture will do? I must remember this.

Weekend is coming...

More trash relief! I found a husband-wife business who will come haul away the one pickup truck load of construction type junk I have in my lower barn that can't go in the dumpster. There's a big roll of carpet, some cut up rolls of carpet, old cat trees, and an old cat shelter.

Once that is out of there I can have a load of washed crushed stone brought in to cover the dirt section of the floor. After I get the buckets of old motor oil hauled to the hazardous waste place in Binghamton, the bottom of the barn will be in good shape.

What a relief! I have been putting off trying to find someone to haul away junk because I was worried it might end up getting tipped off in the woods. But these folks do have a permit for a transfer station, and sound like a legitimate business.

While they are here I'll find out if they have the know-how to get the tiller started this spring. If they do, I'll have them back to show me how so perhaps this year I can get the catnip in. Who knows how long it will take to get the farm on the market and sold, so I thought if it turned out I could not sell the dried catnip, I could at least gift it to the many people who make catnip toys for animals shelters.

Spring is coming.

Is it time to move?

Yesterday I got together with a friend in Waverly to have breakfast, pick up some equipment I had lent, and visit her new managed colony that arose when a group of cats suddenly showed up under her house this past month.

I really got a glimpse of how isolated life had become for me, to the point of becoming crippling to the work I want to do. We stopped first at Tomossos's on the golf course, which turned out not to serve breakfast on Saturdays, but whose staff Deb knew by name and who probably would have opened the place up for lunch early for her had we asked. We headed to downtown Waverly to eat at Becky's Diner instead, where people constantly stopped by to say "hi." Then it was on over to the Red Door Cafe--a project of the Open Door Mission in Owego. (Here is their Facebook page)

I asked if they had wireless. Yes indeed they do. Once again, Debra knew everyone by name.

Now, let's be truthful, even if I moved into a small town, I would not be a "knows everyone by name" person. First of all, I have to say the name of every new person I meet aloud three times to have any hope of remembering it. Second of all, I don't have Debra's balance of friendliness, grace, and innate competence. I am a pretty good presenter, but that's not my real side.

Nonetheless, it was clear by just one morning that by living in the country I was missing something I enjoy very much, and that is being part of a community of people who meet regularly by chance, not by arrangement.

Because NYS just hasn't been able to get its ass in gear to make a decision about the natural gas situation, I've been sitting here frittering away my money because I haven't been sure if I should stay or go. I got out of my gas lease because it didn't protect the property, but that also meant not taking the money that might have kept things afloat. I could help a lot more people without the constant stress of trying to pay my bills, and caring for all of this property, if I lived in a smaller house with no land. I'd be closer to people interested in helping out. Yes, I'd probably have more people knocking on my door to help, but if we get this spay/neuter fund going, there would be a network and funding to assist them.

There's a big difference between 58 acres, a huge barn, a huge house, and something like this.

It will take a long while to sell this place, and there's work that needs to be done whether I stay or not. But basically the decision has been made to sell, unless some miracle comes along (a good sound gas lease with good state oversight). Cat rescue will still continue. It may even continue far better than before.

It just won't be here. My dream of a beautiful facility along the creek will need to be given up, but you know, there are other ways to achieve a similar dream that may in fact be more achievable and do more good.

25 neat tips

These are really neat. Thank you to Donna, who shared it on Facebook.

New Years Resolution

To be playing this song on my porch this summer.

And no I never realized Styx had mandolin, accordion, string bass, and tambourine as primary instruments. I don't think I even knew what a mandolin was when I was a teenager listening to Styx.




Years later, with orchestra.

When people get what they wanted...

You can check our Randy Glasbergen's cartoon's here. He went to school with my sister and always wanted to be a cartoonist. And made it. Every time one of his cartoons pops up in a magazine I'm reading I think, "See, you can become what you dream of being." I'm sure he worked his ass off to do it. Perhaps with naps taken strategically.

Really easy, really good vegetable chili

The New Yorker recently had a chili recipe that sounded simple and good---and healthy---so I decided to give it a try. I tweaked it a bit because some of the ingredients were the kind of thing you could only find if you lived in...say....New York City...rather than Spencer.

I was really surprised at how good it is. If you like a mildish chili that nonetheless taste like chili and not like some bland chili imitation, you'll like this.

1 quart good-quality chicken broth (their words, not mine). I used water and two bouillon cubes because I can't afford broth if I don't have it in the freezer. H eated in large saucepan.
1 can diced canned tomatoes. I used garlic/onion type
1 TBLS olive oil
1 red bell pepper diced (green is fine if you prefer)
1 onion medium diced
3 cloves garlic, minced
3 TBLSP chili powder (make sure it isn't old and stale. You know how that goes)
1 teaspoon cumin and oregano (I made it one rounded teaspoon of both)
2 cans black beans drained (I used good quality/organic. I'll try with cheap beans next time)
1 can corn, drained (recipe called for two. I would not suggest it)
1/4 cup Quaker Old Fashioned grits (my addition. I dislike grits on their own, but they are great to add to stew-type soups. They are fortified so it adds nutrients as well)
Black pepper/salt to taste (my addition)
3-4 drops chili hot sauce (my addition)

To add close to serving:
1/8 cup chopped fresh cilantro (optional) (recipe recommended 1/4 cup. That seemed like a "cilantro fanatic's" amount to me and I reduced it).


Saute oil, pepper, onion, garlic, until tender, around 5 minutes
Add cumin, chili pepper, oregano, about 1 minute.
Add beans, tomato, corn, grits to broth in saucepan.
Add sauted veggies to broth in saucepan
Let simmer for 20 minutes or so.
Add 3-4 drops hot chili sauce, salt, pepper. Use restraint. Come back in 10 minutes, taste, and adjust.
About ten minutes before serving, add cilantro.

This was good without the cilantro, if you are not a cilantro fan.

If you like hot chili, I'm sure you can spice this up on your own. Personally, I dislike having to concentrate on recovering from my food while I'm eating it.

This recipe called for 1 oz dark chocolate. Actually, I didn't find that the chocolate added anything to it and dampened to tomato flavor. I would not add it next time.

Feel free to share your chili secrets in comments.

Could use another day or six....is it 2012 yet?

I did manage to decorate a bit this year, but it never really seemed like Christmas with that capital "C." Suddenly it's over and now I have to decide to take them all down again.

I'm relieved that New Year is a week after Christmas. I feel like I have another whole week of Christmas-past to finish up the holiday tasks that I, blessedly, actually did get started.

Not finished yet, though, so I'm glad that I can mentally stretch Christmas out until next Monday. There will be people who are clearly getting their Christmas cards, not just after Christmas, but MAILED after Christmas.

I am putting all the addresses into databases this year, so that next year should be far simpler. Once again I'm putting on the big girl pants. Here I am, pushing 50, finally getting a Christmas card list in order.

The fence never looked quite right without snow!

The three black bundles of energy are still here. Tortellini was nearly adopted but the home visit didn't pass--a first for me. They are driving the older cats absolutely crazy. It's a good thing I can keep them in the upstairs bedroom at night so the house cat can have some peace and relaxation. They are such lovely cats. I'm going to have to pull out the stops to get them homes.

I almost considered putting up a tree in the house, but I decided the stress of keeping it upright and the ornaments unbroken would ruin the holiday. Instead I installed a smaller tree on the front porch. Since I had no guests for Christmas, far more people enjoyed it out there, anyway. I know I did.

The cats aren't the only ones who get presents from adopters. I'll post more photos when there is better light, but these are the ones that made me laugh. I stole a cat toy from Mary's stash, because I thought the mouse was too cute to get chewed on (he'll go in with my tree ornaments), and Christy and Gordan gave me a tiny fiber optic Christmas tree that is powered off the USB on any computer. It changes color and it makes me smile.

Lynn in NJ sent me these...my favorite of all the silly gifts...

I'm awfully glad they don't have udders and teats! And they are WARM!

Digging out

I have Wed and Thursday off. I work Friday, then have Saturday-Tuesday off.

I'm not sure I can cope with so much time off in a row! Not to mention the upcoming holidays. I have to make sure I don't let these days slip by. I have kittens who need homes, and projects throughout the house that need to get finished. I've been tripping over lumber in the upstairs hall, and yards of fleece for winter curtains, for weeks---nay, months.

There are also tasks in the cat facility. If Faith sticks in her new home, I plan to move Arthur's big cage into the cat room where it is warmer. If I can find a home for Gawaine, then I would only need to heat the run room and the cat room. I would need to put a cat door in the vestibule door, so when the cats are at liberty they can go into the unheated section.

But first and foremost, the kittens need to get re-homed. The activity level in the house is way too high, and frankly, the senior cats are miserable. I've had eight cats before, but never three young cats at once.

I haven't received a single inquiry about them, which is absolutely out of character for this close to Christmas. Normally I am flooded with emails from people who want to get a family member a gift cat.

I have a creative idea to get them some more publicity. I won't share it now, but I hope to before the end of this weekend.

Tommy, Jewel, and Arthur are off to the veterinarian on Thursday. Tommy especially needs a special home--preferably with no other cats. He just wants to be someone's one-and-only.

One more trip out to the cat facility and then to bed.

Squeak is sick

Squeak stopped eating awhile ago. He's a tubby, furry cat, who is comfortable lounging around the house, but isn't one for being cuddled and petted unless it is on his own terms. I didn't not notice his weight loss until I managed to pass by him one day and run my hand down his back. He purred and rolled, like he normally does. I could feel his spine--in that way that felt harsh and unfamiliar under my hand. Uh oh.

I was traveling for work two weeks ago. It was a longer stretch--five days. Bear was in the house instead of being allowed to wander outside during the day, and he's a jackass when it comes to Squeak. Squeak is a jackass when it comes to Bear. Instead of just popping Bear in the nose like all the other cats do, Squeak stares. This makes Bear stare back. Stares turn to a confrontation, and Squeak always runs. Bear chases him. There are no outright fights, but it has made Squeak less than his normal happy self. Squeak also dislikes the foster kittens, hissing when they go by. He especially dislikes it if I raise my voice to the kittens, telling them "NO" to get them off the counters, etc. If I raise my voice, Squeak thinks I'm yelling at him, and off he goes.

The other cats are all able to tell when a command isn't directed at them, but Squeak and Molly-the-dog always take it personally.

People are sometimes surprised to learn I have "only" five cats (in addition to the 14 cats for adoption in the cat facility). I've had as many as eight, and in my opinion any more than three cats begins to cause stresses in the household. Two to three cats is optimal.

Some people might say that a few stare-offs "aren't that bad" as long as there are no fights and everyone is using the cat box. But constant harassment, even if no claws are involved, can make life miserable for a shy cat like Squeak. And for a fat cat who already has health issues, five days hiding from an irritated indoor-outdoor cat who can't go outdoors can cause real problems.

I noticed Squeak wasn't coming down to eat treats with the other cats. After a day or two of me tracking him down and laying a pile of Fancy Feast dry in front of his nose, he began eating again with gusto, and I figured all was well. I made sure Bear was out during the day, and even closed Bear up in the great room at night so Squeak could be comfortable hanging out by the fire.

Squeak got skinnier. He began turning up his nose at treats and Fancy Feast.

So, off to the vet we went, and his kidney and liver values are a mess. It looks like Squeak has fatty liver disease. I have been feeding him by syringe, and he hates it. Now any time I look at him sideways he runs away. If I shut him in a room he digs frantically at the door. When I put him in a cage he just howls.

He still loves the wood stove, and he is still drinking, so I make sure I have his food ready to go so when the opportunity arises to scoop him up without trauma, I can feed him. I have hung the screen door that I normally use when I want to keep kittens in the den, so he can't hide upstairs.

I've made more sleeping spots by the fire so they'll be less competition, and Squeak has managed to stake out the dog crate and the ottoman whenever he likes.

We'll see.

Taking advantage of the "over-50F" weather

When nature gives me weather over 50 degrees, I give myself a paint brush, because it's the last chance I'll get. If I don't get things spruced up now, I'll be staring at them all winter.

Paint for the bench mom gave me last year, and stain for the birdhouse she passed onto me this fall.

Farewell, broken shutter.

And another coat of stain for the steps, cellar doors, cat enclosure, and picnic table before the snow flies.

Well, this is fun...

Nasty weather just misses us

I was supposed to help my mom out, cleaning out her gardens for the winter, but the threat of bad weather kept me on my home turf. Of course, this meant the storm would just miss me, although it has made a mess out of Binghamton, so wouldn't have been able to get to mom's easily unless I took the northern route through Cortland.

I did get my snow tires on, fed the Fast Food Ferals and stocked Kat up with food for them for the week. I stopped at Agway for fatwood for the fireplace, and picked up cat food. With the tires in the car there was no room for cat litter, so I'll have to pick that up next week.

I stopped at Kia to get the "required" Kia USB cable to use my iPod in the car, and ordered the window trim piece that flew off on the PA turnpike when I drove to The Animal Law Conference in Philly a few weeks ago. $118 for the part and $91 (one hour) labor to put it on. I think I'll do it myself, thanks, or pay Craig. The cable rang up at $59 until I pointed out it was $38 online from Kia, then suddenly, surprise, it was $42. Computer error! Right. I no longer believe in the goodness of man when I comes to commerce, I'm afraid, especially after my recent experience with fuel oil companies this past year.

I did stop at the West Danby craft fair (the roadside signs worked on me!) and picked up a few small Christmas gifts.

By the time I got home, the snow began to fall, and it's still sifting down. The online scanner for Binghamton bears witness to cars sliding around crashing into things, so while I feel like a wimp, I'm just as glad I didn't go out.


I'm very happy to have the heavy tires back on the car again, and when I buy new summer tires to replace the weenie dealer tires I have, I'll probably buy snows (without studs, of course). As soon as I turned the steering wheel onto Rt 13 it was like driving a different car. It is stable, nimble...and loud, unfortunately. The tires grab the pavement and that little car moves right out.

When I'm in Kost Tire I have to waste some time, which usually means a cheap breakfast at Manos, a stop at the bead store, and a stop at Salvation Army Thrift Store. At the Thrift Store I scored three huge new-looking blue totes that I can turn into cat shelters to give away, and a rather tacky wall hanging of six large wood hearts that I can sand down and put to other purposes---namely "don't let the cat out" signs to hang on the porch, to give away or sell. I'm not big on hearts myself, but the quality of the wood, and the cheap price was too good to pass up. I learned I would be losing my bead store stop, alas, as she is moving to Dewitt Mall (a cool old school in downtown Ithaca) where she'll get much better traffic. Then my cell phone buzzed, and my car was ready.

So much for excitement for the day. It's just me, the scanner, the cats, and lots of housework for the evening.

Loving my screened porch

I wish I could have done it earlier in the year, but I'm glad I can enjoy these last few nice evenings. The screened porch has cut a lot of work out of my life. There are no pine needles, no leaves, no bugs. I can sit out here with Molly (not with the cats yet...I don't have all the corners fastened down) and rest easy knowing that if a raccoon or bear came trundling up, I'd probably have time to grab her before the critter ripped through.

Molly is a bit more protective and growly now that she can't go busting down the porch stairs on her tie-out to check out every little rustle. She growls at the wind, at pine cones dropping...things she could go investigate before. And I have to say, I leave her on the tie-out, even though she is on the porch with the door shut.

Because I'm not the sharpest knife in the drawer, and sometimes that shut door might not be latched.

It's kind of hard to explain how much more secure just a flimsy bit of screen can make you feel. The porch used to feel exposed--part of the outdoors. I very rarely sat out here after dark. Now it feels like it's part of my territory.

I dread the day I know will come, when windstorm sends a stick flying through it, or one of my cats decides to launch himself up on it. I plan to only let my senior pet cats out here. No crazy kittens. I know what they'll do, and they can have the cat enclosure which is of good solid wire.

I have discovered that there is a veeeery large spider living in one of the tubes of my wind chimes. I never noticed the very small web she had built until this evening when I discovered a spider filling a quarter of it. Yeesh! I've been moving those wind chimes around all week, from hook to hook as I worked putting up the screen, not realizing one of those metal tubes was occupied. I think I shall leave them be. Were it spring, the chimes might get attacked with spider spray. But in a week or two it will be winter, and those cold metal tubes are no place for a spider. It seems somehow sinful to rob a spider of her last warm days on earth, just because I have the heebie jeebies. So I just slowly moved my chair back.

I toyed with the idea of taking a photo tonight, but it would just be harsh with the flash, and I could not convey the sound of the creeks...still full and running, and the unknown things who are peeping, and the owls who call every now and then. Then there are my facility cats, who know I am out here, and periodically they let out a sad meow from their personal windows, still open, hoping I might come over before bedtime.

Some odd bird is calling. It's dark! Who would that be! Peep! Peep! Peep! Peep!

I don't know. I don't mind. I'm just happy to be out here.

In Norwich, as a teenager, I used to sleep on the porch and worried somewhat about passersby wandering up on me behind the heavy vines that grew up the wire trellis. Bear and raccoon were not a concern. It occurs to me I could hang a hammock out here to sleep the night away. I have no worries about humans out here.

I'm not sure what would concern me the most. The bears that might wander by (Molly would bark) or the spiders that could dangle on down. I doubt Molly would have much to say about them.

FINALLY...a screened porch

A screened porch has been on my list of "dream items." I even had a local contractor come out to give an estimate (plus $3000), and a neighbor/carpenter come out to give an estimate just on framing in the door I'll need. Both were out of my range (although not unreasonable for the work that would be done) so I gave it up.

Then, as a wedding gift, I did some hostessing at the wedding reception of my friends Gail and Jennifer. Their back porch is screened in, and they just put it up themselves without fancy attachments. It looks great. Gail mentioned that they still had a large roll of screen in their basement, and I asked her to come up with a price and I'd buy it.

A few weeks later, she messaged me on Facebook that, because Mark and I had given her a set of dishes EONS ago, they would give me enough screen to do my porch, for free.

Well, there you go. Never underestimate the power of a simple favor.

This weekend I went at my porch. It's not quite done, but it's already reaping benefits. I've been able to sit on my porch without being swarmed by bugs, and after last nights' torrential rains, my porch is dry! Rain has always been blown across the porch so that it is sopping, even though it is a large, roofed porch. Apparently the screen will help keep rain at bay.

Now I will no longer have to rake the leaves of my porch in fall, or shovel it in winter.

I didn't do it all alone, of course. I had help.

Once it's all buttoned up, we'll see how my house cats feel about being able to have morning coffee with me.

LOVE flashmobs...

Thank you, Nancy!

Busy summer--and it's almost gone!

Tomorrow is August 1. 30 days and we'll be hitting September and what, to my mind, is fall. I've taken a look at my to-do list and my still half-painted house, and in a fit of determination (I almost typed "desperation") I have taken a day off every week through September, to try and get things done before snow flies.

One thing I must do immediately is go out with the loppers and cut down the burdock scattered around the property, before it stops being pretty, and starts being a nuisance.

I did not get a garden planted this year, technically. I started some seedlings...too early, as always. I tucked them into my flower garden instead of the back veggie garden, so I could keep an eye on them. I've been eating grilled zucchini and zucchini bread, and I surely wish my tomatoes would do more than flower!

I had been waiting for my zinnias to blossom in great anticipation. They were supposed to be purple. Well, they ain't. They are pink. Perhaps the soil wasn't right to bring out the blue.

My mother upgraded her sewing machine, and made a present to me of her old one. I have two kicking around here that are old, and have been jammed since our work party a few years ago. It's wonderful to have a sewing machine that's not older than I am!

The sun beating in the front windows of the cat facility is an issue I've been meaning to deal with. I need curtains, and store-bought ones won't do. So I ran out to Joann Fabrics a week or so ago and picked up some bright fleece to help cut the sun, and also hold back the cold this winter. Fleece is the most cat-proof fabric available, and my lazy self also liked the fact that you really don't need to hem it because it doesn't unravel.

However, when I was making the curtains (and I'm no seamstress) I told myself it was time to put my big-girl pants on and do something right for a change, rather than half-assed. So I did sew the seams on all four sides of the curtains, and maybe they'll look a little better and last a little longer.

My swallows have been dive-bombing me for the better part of two months now, without a single baby-beak peeking out of the new nest they built on my pole saw in the barn. I was beginning to believe it was going to be a bad year for the swallows (perhaps insects were killing the fledglings) when I notice little heads peering out at me the other day. Bear is now banned from the outdoors until they have joined their parents in the sky.

It wouldn't feel like summer without a whole line of swallows sitting on the phone line outside.

Beautiful weather. Long to-do list!

With the arrival of hot and humid weather comes some of the "uck" that goes with cat rescue. Molds and fungus grow, maggots breed, cats shed profusely. Wet food can't be left out. I have become friendly with bleach again, both in the cat facility and my home. Currently I'm giving my kitchen floor it's ten-minute wait under bleach and water. After do the some cat laundry tonight, the bathroom will get the same treatment. Iget complacent over the winter when everything is chilly and bone-dry. It's easy to put off mopping and satisfy yourself with sweeping. But once the furnace or heaters are off the the humidity begins to climb, it's time to stock up on my friend Clorox. All of us in the animal welfare profession keep waiting for that magical day when someone discovers something else that works so well. So far, we are still waiting.

Some people can't abide the smell of bleach and luckily I'm using it in well-ventilated areas, so the smell has dissipated in 24 hours after a serious cleaning, and within an hour or so after a wipe-down. Gone as well are the hundred or so other little sordid smells that we did not notice until they were gone. "Wow, it smells CLEAN in here."

I have been using a small pump-style pesticide/fertilizer sprayer in the cat facility to spray bleach and disinfectant, and it works so well I purchased one for in the house. No more hand-cramps from trying to use a re-purposed glass cleaner bottle. In the cat facility, I can bleach down the falls without a fuss, and then pass over them the next day with a spray of hot water. It means mopping up the floor afterward, but a little more bleach and water never hurt a floor.

The cats are PO'd because I have to restrict their wandering until everything is dried off. Currently poor Tyler is shut out in the cat enclosure because I didn't realize he was out there when I closed the window to cut down on cat traffic.

Trash has to get emptied more often (discarded cat food and summer heat are not compatible), and the trash must be taken to the solid waste facility each and every week.

When I start cleaning floors, I have to cast a critical eyes on what's ON the floors, and whether it's anything worth keeping. I thump-thump-thumped old cat furniture down the stairs to the bottom of the barn. I've re-wrapped the sisel rope on them enough that it's time to say goodbye. Old cat toys---outta here. Old cat beds--also history. The best of them are going through the laundry twice with bleach to be bagged up, awaiting winter again. The cats in the facility prefer stretching out flat on towels, or sleeping in their slings, when the weather is warm.

So that is my July 4 weekend. Tomorrow, the 4th of July holiday, I'm working as a hostess at a lake party, flipping veggie burgers and keeping things picked up. Then Tuesday it's back to work!

Three-day weekends go fast.

Rain by buckets

It began as a beautiful, although cloudy, morning, and has become an afternoon and evening of pouring rain. Sheets of it, straight down.

I have a trap out for the Shelter Valley kitty (who hasn't been seen since I touched her last week. I guess I should have netted her). I may as well go close it. I doubt she'll venture forth from shelter tonight.

I find myself at a loss for words. I keep thinking "Oh, I should blog," and throughout the day I can "see" myself blogging. But when I have a few minutes that I might sit down, weariness sets in. Boredom. Overwork. Blah, blah, blah. I roll through the real estate ads for houses in Owego, thinking what I need is a life with humans in it, but then I sit here on my porch and realize I'm barely hanging on to a dream. Would I really let it go? I could do cat rescue probably more efficiently and more within my means in a cheap house with a nicely redone garage (although you never know if people might freak and yell "hoarder!" if they see cats peering out of windows. Can you blame them? Opening "to the public" to alleviate those fears would probably require zoning requests that would not be granted.) But from here, should the opportunity arise, I could one day build my small education center and surgery suite for spay/neuter.

I keep thinking there must be a way to put more hours in the day and more money in the bank. Time, especially, seems to drain through my fingers.

I was looking forward to the SACA conference in Jekyll Island this July. The idea of three or four days with good people, and a quiet bike ride on the long empty beaches sustained me through this winter. Unfortunately, the conference has been cancelled--something I only noticed when I visited the web page to verify the time to book my flight and send some shelter visit ideas off to my supervisor.

So I guess I'll just sigh wistfully over last years photos.

The rain is ending. I think I'll jump in the car and go check that trap and close it for the night. Maybe Molly would like to go for a ride.

What have I been doing for a whole month?

Watching this...

Fed up with looking like hell

Getting another cat dumped on me sort of made me snap. I need to find homes for these nice family cats, and in order to do so, I need to have space for nice families to come see them. The rooms in the upstairs of the house worked to some extent, but if the person can't climb stairs, they are out of luck in both the house and the cat facility. And while the downstairs of the barn is painted, it still looks like...a barn. I've grown increasingly sensitive to having people see me as a "cat lady" first and foremost, but I can't help but feel everything LOOKS cat lady-like. Over time, things get shabby, and after you've fixed them six or seven times, it gets old.

However, it's not old to the people who visit. If they walk in and see rope unwinding on the cat furniture, they don't see the six times you've cut it all off and replaced it, or thrown out old cat trees and purchased brand new ones. They see only THAT shabby cat tree.

Today I was walking up to the barn, privately lamenting that the windows, once again, needed to be scraped and painted. A piece of glass fell out of one window awhile ago. It looks like hell.

I walked inside the first floor and the crumbling concrete by the door met my eyes. Sure, I'd done some creative spatter-paint work to disguise the stained 80+ year old floor. Still. The wind whistled around the door itself. It was a barn floor, and a barn door.

Enough.

Cricket and Pauli (the new cat) went into the vet today, and when I drove back into pick Pauli up from his neuter, I went to Lowe's to price sheet vinyl (it'll be $400) and Home Depot for windows. I decided to do the windows first and picked up four. Once I got Pauli settled in at the cat facility, I went into demolition mode and discovered old barns aren't so easy to tear apart. However they do finally succumb to a crowbar, hammer, and Sawzall. Then I discovered the opening were larger than the windows. I only managed to tack the windows up to make sure everything would work out before it got too dark. I'll have to take them down, flash them properly, paint the trim on both sides, and put it all back up again. But they already look so much better. And INSIDE. Wow. What a difference.

Four windows, vinyl on the floor, a new door, and a vestibule so cats can't sneak out. That's the plan.

Tea, Portia, and blogging

The porch kitty who showed up here awhile ago is now Portia. She had been staying downtairs in the barn cat facility, but I brought her inside to the boarding rooms while I was traveling. It's quiet as heck up here (time to add a radio) so tonight I came up with the camera, a mug of tea, and my netbook to get a photo of her and spend some time.

When I took Portia into the vet to be spayed, I asked them to check for a spay scar. Her fur was entirely too glossy for an unfixed adult female. Sure enough, they found one, so after a combo test and vaccinations, home she came.

I put an ad in the Broader View Weekly (thank you, Karen!) and called Stray Haven, but haven't heard a peep.

Tonight, I finally convinced her to stop rubbing, rolling, and purring and come up on my lap to lay down awhile. As we sat here, I suddenly realized her paws were awfully soft...

Portia is declawed!

What is your story, little girl? How did you get here? Do you belong to one of my neighbors who has not thought to stop by? Did some pissed off boyfriend dump you here because his girlfriend loved you too much? Did your owner die and at-a-loss relatives figured here you'd "find a home" (if the elements didn't kill you first)?

Being declawed will make her much more adoptable. I just don't want to adopt out someone's lost and beloved cat.

Grumble, grumble...more snow

So, it all melted (well, most of it) and it all came back.

Just in case you were wondering if the truck could get buried even worse than the last storm, the answer is "Yes."

Mental Health Day

Work has been hectic? How hectic? Hectic enough that I have been told to TAKE A DAY OFF! As if on cue, the Demons of IT decided to demand payment for this generosity by eating our work inbound mail. I spent two days wrestling with the Mothership to get it back, and other coworkers leaped in to answer the resulting backlog.

I have resolved that today will not be wasted staring numbly at the walls, or falling asleep on the couch. This has been a soul-sucking winter, and I cannot let it win. There are so many little things I could do that would remove tiny hurdles that make my day-to-day life incrementally more difficult. Getting rid of them would make my days incrementally better. It is within my ability. ;)

This positive outlook was launched by the adoption of Sir Morgan. Yes, the sweet and Pudgie One found a home, and someone is home all day! So he will have more affection than he will know what to do with. Now if only Tiger Tom could find a similar home. It is good to see Sir Morgan's cage empty. I was going to move Portia upstairs (the black cat who was recently abandoned here), but frankly I think she would rather have all of the first floor to herself and come upstairs for periodic visits, than be caged for half the day upstairs. I'm thinking about moving Coyote downstairs to be with Portia (the black cat the was abandoned before Portia appeared), because it's clear that she doesn't enjoy sharing space with a colony of cats. She's thriving (glossy and fat!) but she's not the laid-back affectionate cat she had been, and I think she would get more adoption notice downstairs as well.

The weather has been brutally cold. We get an occasional sunny day in the 30s, but our days of "thaw" have been limited to one 50-degree day, which is atypical for a NY winter. Normally we get a good 3-5 days of freakishly warm weather some time in January or February. Not this year.

I'd best not waste too much time blogging until I actually have something to blog.

PostNote 10:47 am: After cleaning the cat facility, I left Portia loose upstairs with Coyote, Morgaine, and Gawain. I'd like to get Portia and Coyote used to one another, then Coyote can move downstairs once the weather is warmer and they can greet visitors and hopefully get "first dibs" on folks who would take an adult cat. It's so hard to be a black cat--even a black cat with gorgeous copper eyes like Coyote or the perfect affectionate soul like Portia's.

I am now making cinnamon rolls. Don't get impressed--they are the Pillsbury pop-up type.

Three-day weekend--and trying not to waste it

Note: I put this in "draft" and never completed it. Sigh.

I think anyone who lives in a snowbound state will admit that February is a pretty lousy month. There is always that hope that winter will miraculously melt away and not come back. Reality, however, keeps knocking, with repeat snowstorms and harsh winds--often the day after a rare gorgeous day in the 50s.

Like today. The harsh day, I mean, after the beautiful warm day.

Not the warm day. That of course fell on a Friday, when most folks are working and wishing they weren't working.

When you work from home, owning a dog is rather like being a smoker who works in an office building. You get free breaks. For some reason, an instant message that "I have to clean the cat box" ("why don't you wait until after work to clean it?") doesn't have the same get-out-of-jail-free impact of "Walking the dog, brb!" You don't have to ASK to walk the dog. You just announce it in IM, and go.

Should I ever part with Molly, I don't think I'll tell anyone she has been adopted into a family with three dog-loving children. I'll still announce "Walking the dog!" and then go cuddle with my cats for fifteen minutes instead. ;)

To be a cat-owner working from home is rather like being an overworked non-smoker at the office, enviously watching those smokers pick up their pack and say "Be just a sec!" on a beautiful sunny day.

Creative fundraising: The Syracuse Symphony Orchestra

Sometimes you have to pack the old "woe-is-me" away in a box and realize other people have bigger monsters looming. For my sister Linda, this monster is the financial need of the Syracuse Symphony Orchestra, which is on the verge of going under. Linda plays piccolo and flute for the SSO.

The symphony has always been a part of my life. All members of my immediate family played instruments when we were young, and I think Linda embodies all of our dreams. There are those who continue playing--and there are more who do not. But we dream of having done so, we embrace and admire those who have.

There were many years it seemed the only time Linda and I ever had a chance to get together was when she was playing in a concert for the SSO or the Society for New Music, and we would rendezvous afterward. Symphony positions are not easy to get. There is only one piccolo. It's not like, if you lose your job, you can just put your resume out on syracusehelpwanted.com It means auditioning (and investing in travel) all over the U.S. should a position open up. It means competing against other incredible musicians who are also fervently seeking the position (Auditions are blind--the judges do not see who is playing, so unlike the Presidency, a pretty face or good interview clothes get you nowhere). It means selling everything you have and moving should you be fortunate enough to get the position. IF you get a position.

You don't make a ton of money in a small-city symphony. You are certainly already doing other things--teaching privately, at local colleges, playing part-time with other orchestras or ensembles--to make ends meet. This all requires incredible organizational and time-management skills, and a damned good car. Not to mention instruments! You don't buy a clarinet in college and play the same one your entire life. No, there will be the progressive moving-up-steps to better instruments (and multiple instruments). There will be wear and damage. There can be theft. It's not a cheap profession by any means.

And then there is the insurance--or rather, the lack of it. As a musician, if you are not lucky enough to have a full-time symphony or college or school position, you are not insured and must pay for this yourself.You will also fall apart a bit. You will sit a lot. Stand a lot. Your hands will suffer from repetitive movements. If you have a toothache and your instrument is a wind instrument, you are in trouble.

The SSO rolled out a "Keep The Music Playing" fund-raising campaign, and have so far have been met their first goal. But it is a huge set of goals. Local businesses have been stepping up with special events and fundraisers (something I hope continues even beyond the campaign--who doesn't want to dress up and socialize before a weekend concert?).

Linda has always been supportive of my work. She adopted two cats from me. She has pitched in for work weekends, and basically has helped keep me sane. When the SSO said "We need money" I went over to their web site and made a donation. It was a drop in the bucket when compared to the need.

When you aren't in a position to give a huge donation to a campaign, one thing you can do that is VITAL--is be a "body." Seriously. If an organization can show photos of a full house at an event, or market "buzz" on the web (generating news articles and keeping the campaign before the public) or say "XX people attended"--someone else will give another donation because they know they are supporting something their community cares about. While the $25 to participate in small events doesn't seem like much, when you multiply it by 100 attendees (bring a friend!) it becomes a sizeable donation. I try to be a "body" when I can. When you are a participant, you almost always get some benefit in return. A meal, the company of other like-minded people you never would have met...

or a tattoo.

The SSO put on Facebook that BioGraphix Tattoo Studio would offer music-themed tattoos for a mere $25 with 100% of the proceeds going to the SSO.

I mentioned to Linda that I was going to come to Syracuse to get one. Linda mentioned this to an SSO marketing person. The SSO marketing person said "Wouldn't it be great if one of our musicians would get one!" Linda said "I will!" Then I got an email from her with the subject line "It's all your fault!"

Now Linda is "inked."

(photo from the Post-Standard)

I wasn't able to get free  to join her on Wednesday, but this Saturday I did the morning chores and drove out to Syracuse. Mike, the owner, talked about the other successful fundraisers they have had for autism, cancer, and now the SSO. He and other artists also talked about their children and their musical talents. These guys LOVED their kids. They positively beamed when talking about them. Mike said the fundraiser has been very popular so far, and that one day there were ten people waiting when he arrived. The whole hope, of course, is that people will give a bit more than $25 for their tattoo (I did) and tell others.

So here I am, telling! Maybe a tattoo isn't your style. There will be a lot of future events to choose from. Look around your own community for your own art organizations, historical societies, and other cultural organizations. How many times have you thought "Oh, I should go to that...but maybe next time?"

Perhaps you'll discover, tomorrow, that there are no more "next times."

Linda's is the classic black tattoo with the treble clef and eighth notes (very "piccolo" I thought). When she arrived to see me getting a pair of bass clefs she joked: "Mandolin...Not exactly bass?" I replied that it wasn't likely I'd ever be a good enough mandolin player to make a distinction. I made my choice entirely on the pretty factor. (Apologies for blinding you with our winter-white legs!)

We then navigated the huge Syracuse snowbanks to a local watering hole, where we drank, ate, laughed and had a wonderful time, enjoying a rare evening of brightness in a long and dreary winter.

After we stopped by her house to feed the cats, of course.

I'm happy to look down at my ankle the rest of my life to smile and think of my sister. Let's hope the music never stops playing.

Things I've been meaning to do...house history

About five years ago (or more) Mark and I found our way down to the Spencer Historical Society (no web page). The volunteer docent on duty took us to their records room and looked up photos and information on our house and the Ferris family who lived here. Woodbridge Ferris was born here.

The docent, who I am fairly certain was also an officer of the Society, said we could have copies for cost. We did not expect them to deliver them right to our door, which they did. We gave them an extra few dollars and also became members. I've tried to keep up the membership since then.

The photos kicked around in a plastic sleeve and we would pull them out from time to time for visitors. One day we got concerned that we might bend or accidentally spill something on them, so we filed them "some place safe," meaning to one day frame them and hang them up. We filed them so safely I was never able to find them again.

Yesterday I was digging through files, getting ready to box some up, when the pile slid over on its side and the sleeve fell out and I snatched them up and scanned them for safekeeping. Later, I was in Ithaca, and went wandering through the Dollar Store. As I passed through the frame aisle, my eyes fell on a frame that, for a mere buck, fit the "feel" of the photos perfectly. Before the photos could turn into yet one more task that I put off, I bought two frames, brought them home, and put the photos up on the wall.

The raccoon photo was given to me by a wonderful older couple in Groton when I was first starting out in wildlife control. They had raccoons living under their bathtub, coming in from under their porch. In addition to paying me, the gentleman gave me the raccoon photo (taken by trip-wire at South Lake in the Adirondacks in the early 1900's), an old oil lamp, and a potted spruce tree which, sadly, did not survive transplanting in the spring.

I put the family kitchen things mom had recently given me up on the shelf since they seemed to fit the theme. I think I'll frame up some other photos of old houses I've lived in and prop them on the shelf as well.

Here is my house now. Well, in warmer times, that is.

The lilac by the gate in the buggy photo is still here, along with the hole for the gate post. I think next spring I'll pound a new post into that hole. Maybe I'll top it with a solar light and a little brass plaque about the lilac and this place. I'd love to get a NYS historical sign announcing the old Ferris Farm as the birthplace of Woodbridge Ferris, but I can't afford $895. Maybe when I retire. ;)