Sunday, August 30, 2009

Peace after war

(to answer the two most common tattoo questions: #1, yes, it did hurt, but no, it didn't hurt much, and #2, $125. There, that's over).



Two things happened yesterday.

My ex came and picked up the last of his stuff, except for a couple of boxes of books. The farm is now mine in all but name, and my husband, other than signing taxes, is finally gone, gone, gone. I wandered about the cavernous lower barn yesterday, looking at all the work that needs to be done, and all the potential that lies there. It was kind of like discovering a cool old tree house on your property. I felt the stirrings of some long-lost twelve-year old.

(there is a nuthatch tapping at the porch roof over my head as I type this. There is something fitting about that. Hey, buddy, knock it off!)

The second event was that my tattoo artist called and said she had a cancellation, and was I interested in coming in at 3:00 instead of waiting until the end of September?

Well, how is that for great timing? So I shook out my wedding-ring pawn-shop money and headed into town. Ithaca was in its usual state of "periods of bright sun alternating with alarming downpours" but I watched it all, laughing and dry, in a chair at Medusa Tattoo.

I had SUCH fun sitting there laughing with Carol, the artist, and one of her friends/clients who wandered in for a visit and gave me a running commentary of all her very beautiful tattoos (and hers WERE beautiful tattoos) and her life, while furious kittens scratched at my upper arm (well..that's what it felt like). Periodically a person would walk in, taking refuge from the rain, and ask questions.

I think perhaps there may be no more interesting place than a tattoo parlor. Lots of people trying to find a way to express who they are--or who they think they are, or who they want to be--in a piece of art that they haul around everywhere they go and have to look at every day. I'm guessing people who come in for lots of tattoos might return just to be part of that comradarie over and over again.

The Latin "pax" I chose for the tattoo means "peace." More exactly, the reconciled peace after war. I need a reminder to continue to try to toss off being angry, and to celebrate those generous people in my life (both female and male) who are true friends, or acquaintances who appear in my life with genuine kindness.

I need a reminder that I am truly blessed and for me to continue to complain has reached a point where anger has served its purpose and it's time to let it go.

If it's not my ex that angers me, it will be something else in the future. There are always complications in life, and let's face it, life is only getting shorter. I want to live the remainder of mind dedicated to a peaceful existence rather than an angry one.

I haven't decided if the cat is resting, or recovering from a bit of a headache (as I smile). That paw by the head doesn't look as relaxed as it could--but then maybe there is some unexpected personal symbolism in that.

As a person who never has a good experience with haircuts ("at least it will grow out"), sitting down for a tattoo was a serious exercise in trust. I'd seen the cats Carol had done, so I was fairly certain she had the understanding to do them right. Nonetheless, until you walk over to their mirror, there is a certain underlying trepidation. I mean, I could have ended up with a really really stupid-looking cat on my arm, forever. Have you seen some of the cat tattoos out there? Most of them are way too "Hello Kitty" for me.

I also thought long and hard about whether I was willing to endure people asking me if I had had a cat named "Pax" for the rest of my life. But given that probably only five people a year are even going to see my upper arm, I'm not too worried about it. I don't commonly run around in sleeveless shirts. Explaining to a few strangers that it means "reconciliation" doesn't seem like such a bad thing to me.

So there you go--two milestones on a single Saturday.

Life is good.

Friday, August 28, 2009

Weight off my mind



It seems like there's never enough time for blogging anymore, but I'm so pleased with progress done yesterday that I just have to sit down with my coffee on the porch and take a break from email, phone calls, etc.

The day before yesterday, the mower place finally called (they said it would be awhile) and said they could pick up the old mowers in the barn. True to their word they showed up yesterday morning and loaded them up. I told them which ones I wanted fixed, and which ones I wanted to never see again. Unfortunately I had to leave them for a phone meeting, so I didn't get to ask them to look at my new mower, whose battery won't hold a charge (sigh).

That would have been enough good news for the day, except around 4:00 while I was tapping away at email, I heard someone on the porch. It was Buck, who hunts on my property, and what had he brought but a gorgeous huge mower on a trailer to mow the hill trails, and tar to start patching the cabin roof. And off he went, for nearly two and half hours.








More later, gotta go back to work!

Wednesday, August 26, 2009

Monday, August 24, 2009

As the days grow shorter...

It has been hard to miss that dusk comes more quickly. Alarmingly so. In a handful of days it will be September. By 7:00 pm, the sharp brightness is already off the day. As every day grows shorter, it seems like I smell snow on the wind.

I'm absolutely not ready for another winter, but I guess I'll have to be.

I love my dinners on the porch. I had Kline Construction out to give me a quote on screening it in. I didn't ask if they would be able to fit it in before the snow fell. The cats will enjoy going outside, and I'm sure Molly would be happy not being confined to her string (cable) all the time she is outdoors. Although on her string she can't reach my tablecloth and chew it to bits!



From here I can watch the entire Owl Creek Road world go by, from cars, to walkers, to bikers, and the occasional horse rider. Once winter rolls in, I huddle inside.



And there is nothing more amusing than watching Molly (who has the "bouncy" advantage) and Bear (who has the weight advantage by 6 lbs) spar on the porch over a stuffed cow (a gift from Nancy C. that Molly ignored until it became an OUTDOOR cow! Bury it a few times and it becomes absolutely fascinating).

So I am trying to make the house more comfortable for both humans an animals alike, since we will be confined in here for the long long months of winter. I bought some cheap pieces of furniture on Craigslist and turned what was once the bedroom into a sort of study for the cats. The art they study, of course, is Napping. With the bed in here, poor Norma was left alone in the great Siberia. Occasionally Nellie came up to cuddle with her (Norma, of feral background, refuses to come downstairs). But now it's the most popular room in the house.



Things are good, I think. I'm surrounded by reminders of all my thoughtful friends. I have a virtual river of them. There are cherry and grape tomatoes in my pasta-tomato-greek olive dinner from Christy and Gordon. And my soft sweater came to me via Nancy's garage sale. If I didn't know better, I'd think she put this pin out there just for me to find, as well.

Because it pretty much sums up my life this year! Cheerful but slightly off the wall!



(ummmm..."slightly"?)

Yes, it's only eight sixteen, it's nearly full dark, the crescent moon is bright, and the automatic lights have turned on. While the heat has only just arrived this year, it is actually not summer any longer. Let's face it (as a breeze brings another flight of leaves down). It's nearly fall.

Friday, August 21, 2009

Is this not a LOL picture waiting for a caption?

I just haven't figured out what it is yet!

Sunday, August 9, 2009

Next steps...



I have to say, "just keeping my head above water" is no longer working out.

The property is too large, the job takes too much time, the cats are being cared for but not adopted out because there are no additional hours for off-site adoptions and creative advertising. A day off at work puts me behind at work. A rainstorm puts me
behind in lawn work.

However, I don't wake up to a "surprise extra day" one week. And a sunny day doesn't give more hours.

I have foster homes. I have friends. I have family I can talk to. I am not lacking for people. What I am lacking is time. And I'm afraid this is a finite universe. No one is going to hand me another ten hours each day.

I've talked to some enthusiastic folks about moving in here for "work-for-rent", and what frightens me is it appears they may take even more time than what they might produce in help with the cats, or with help with the property.

Some of them want to "learn about rescue" as if they believe living here will be an internship rather than work-for-rent. Some just want a cheap place to live and I don't get the feeling that they are willing to sweat under the hot sun with a weedwacker, or get up an extra hour early to shovel snow PLUS take care of the cats before work. I envision a sink full of dishes for two instead of one, or more animals running around the house, or a dirthy bathroom.

One of the advantages of living alone is that I did find my housework takes much less time. :)

I haven't yet found a person sounds enough like they "get it." Some of the people who sort of sound like they "get it" have quite a few animals themselves. I really can only fit perhaps one more dog and a cat or two. Even then there would have to be no more fostering of kittens in the house.

I've continued to work with a professional counselor/time manager, but it's not quite the success I'd hoped for. For example, I'm told "You must stop work at quitting time on Friday. Saturday must be for you. If you must work on the weekend, pick a log-in and log-out time on Sunday so you are up-to-date on Monday." It does sound good on paper. But if someone has questions just after 6 on Friday, and it doesn't get dealt with until Sunday it can make for a frantic Sunday or Monday a.m.

Sometimes I realize I haven't walked the dog, or gotten out to take care of the cats at the normal time. That is simply unacceptable. These are living creatures. By virtue of the fact that they live and breathe, they have to be priority number one.

So with all due respect to the time manager, it ain't working out as simply as it's listed in the pamphlets. I'm told: "You should only have six things on your to-do list each day." Well, maybe if I defined things broadly, like just "Work. Cats. House. Personal Hygiene, Shopping, Friends/Family" I might be able to get it down to six. :)

And then we explore: "Perhaps you have too many things on your plate." We've discussed me going back to being an admin assistant, selling the farm, stopping the cat work, and starting from scratch since no one will be able to find me. But I'm 47. Do I give up everything I enjoy? I'm told "Well, you'll be able to eat out all you want; spend time with friends and family." Yes, until I'm in a wheelchair. Then what do I look back on?

So I decided that I just have to deal with the cats and commitments I currently have and just say "no" to new cats. This has been a tough decision to make, especially at this time of year. However, with the phone message changed (Sorry, can't take cats), a new email autoresponse on (Sorry, can't take cats)...

...People have taken to showing up on my porch.

On Friday, someone showed up with a whole box of kittens...their own. I don't blame anyone for looking for help with a stray, or feral cats, but if you drive a nicer vehicle than mine, and have at least the same educational background I do, you are able to find a home for your own kittens. You have access to the same resources I do. I began with my usual patter about home-finding, but the person was not getting the hint. Finally I was blunt: You have the same financial resources I do. You have more space than I do. You need to find homes for these kittens yourself. If I can do it, you can do it. We are both intelligent human beings, and I already have 5 adoptable kittens ramming around my house and seventeen cats for adoption in my facility, not to mention 6 pet cats. If you leave these kittens on my porch, I have your license plate number and I'll call the troopers.

That did NOT go over well. I wonder now if they dumped the kittens alongside the road somewhere. That kind of thing robs you of sleep. I literally have no room here, and I have two people who really DO need help, who aren't responsible for the kittens on their doorstep.

Then I came home Saturday ("my day for myself and friends/family"), and someone else had been by and left a note about a stray (pictured above). Hey, I don't blame them for looking for help where ever they can get it. But that's two in two days, and I assume it will only get worse. I can't avoid answering my door, because my dog is out there during the day, surveying her tiny kingdom. Then I go in the house, and there are messages on the machine. Then I check my Wildrun email...you get the drift.

There are alternatives. I could set up a volunteer network to call people back, just as I have people who foster, and people who come by to care for the cats when I'm out of town. But there comes a point where the rescue keeps getting bigger and bigger, rather than maintaining its size. At what point do you stop?

It becomes a customer-service dilemma. Do I have a responsibility to help all these people? Well, if I have a web site that says I help, I guess I do.

So it's time to update the website as well, so it's clear that it's a web site about teaching people to help themselves, period. I no longer have the time to run out and respond personally. I enjoy doing it, but right now, the time just isn't there.

I will be posting volunteer needs on the Wildrun blog directly. I do realize that if you need help, you have to ask for it, but you have to be clear.

So I'll be clear.

Wildrun has to stay small, or it has to go. And sadly, if one other thing goes (the job, the farm) then the cat rescue goes as well. Because I need the job to pay for it, and I need the farm to house it. I can buy a smaller place, but it would cost more per month than this spot, because I would need a larger mortgage and would need to renovate for the cats.

There aren't any simple answers. But we all know that. We all run up against the same things...just different issues in all our different lives. If you've come up with any magic time-savers, please feel free to post them in comments!