Partan Bree, Spencer style

I found a recipe in a magazine. Like most foodie recipes, it took more work than I was willing to invest (cutting corn off corn cob, soaking the corn and cob in cream and broth).

I'm sure it is amazing when done as ordered, however, that wouldn't have happened in my kitchen.

So, anyway, let me put the water on for tea and I'll get back to you.

I'm back.

2 cups chicken broth. I used bouillon and water. For a year and a half I either (A) bought boxed organic broth or (B) tried to make extra of my own to keep frozen as a soup base. I figure I've wasted so much time and money (and packaging), I finally went back to bouillon.

2 cups half and half (recipe called for heavy cream. I figured halfnhalf was sin enough)
1 small can of quality corn (recipe called for corn on the cob, blah blah blah...)
6 slices of bacon. You can add less if you prefer.
8 ounces mushrooms, fancy-schmancy type. Recipe called for morels (!!!). I used about 6 ounces of shiitake.
1 1/2 tbsp minced fresh thyme. I used 1 tsp dried, but I'm sure fresh would be better
2 tbsp whiskey. I did use whiskey, but sherry might work for those who prefer it.
2 tbsp butter
1-2 leeks, white and light green parts only, chopped fine. I used one.
1/2 lb crabmeat. I used the fake stuff. I'll use real, next time. I'm sure canned lump crab would be better than the fake stuff.
Salt,and fresh ground pepper.
3 tbsp minced fresh chives (I used this, but you don't need it. It's just for garnish).

Combine 1.5 cups broth, 2 cups half-n-half, and 1 drained can of corn in a large saucepan and warm on low. Add a small amount of salt and pepper.

I'll have you know that the above directions just deleted about about a half hour of cutting corn off the cobs and soaking the corn cobs and corn in the cream/broth. If you'd like to do that, you go right ahead. You then discard the cobs. Unless you really like corn cobs. If you do, well, you are a weird one, aren't you?

In a skillet, fry the cut-up bacon. When cooked, add mushrooms and cook for about 7-10 minutes. You want it done to the point of having crispy bits to scrape off the bottom of the pan. Add the thyme and cook until fragrant, about one additional minute.

They would have you get yet ANOTHER pot to cook the leeks. I added the remaining broth to the bacon and mushrooms, and threw the leeks in with butter, for about 7 minutes.

If you want to cook the leeks in butter in a separate pan, you wash another pan.

I then put the skillet contents in with the corn/broth/half-n-half base. Add the crab. Add the whiskey.

Let cook about 5 minutes (do NOT bring to a brisk boil) and then salt/pepper to taste. Don't season it until it has had a chance to cook a bit. I then let it sit on low for another 10 minutes. Really, really low. Seriously, if you boil this stuff hard, all that work and money just went right down the drain, because milk does not like being boiled. But it does need to simmer to get the flavors to work together.

This recipe also suggests adding rice. I figured that with all the stuff in here, I'd rather eat it as a chowder/stew. But if you want rice, go for it.

This makes enough for four very generous servings. If you add rice, you will increase that. I cut the recipe in half, by the way. I could have fed the entire road with the original.

When I first put it all together, I was underwhelmed. However, after the thyme cooked into it and all the flavors soaked together, it was very good. I'm interested in seeing whether it is even better tomorrow.

PostNote: EXCELLENT the second day.

Speaking of the demon of fate. It...

...pisses me off.

So, my PO Box expired, and I went in and paid for it, and the Post Office person and I joked around while the transaction went through. Three weeks later, friends are telling me their mail is still coming back to them. Grrrrrrr.... OK, it's just a mistake. Back I go to the Post Office!

Two weeks ago I took back my library books, which involves a trip to Ithaca. Today I get an auto-dialer call telling me I have overdue items.

I do NOT like it when I have done something and I have to do it again! I especially do not like it when I have been busting my butt to get my life in order.

So I take three deep breaths and tell myself I need to pick up mail anyway, and I have to feed the cats in Ithaca, so hey, "no big deal." Except I know the library will be a pain, because the only answer a library knows is "We don't have it, so you pay for it," unless you can find the book on the shelves and set it in front of them.

I think it's time to go boogie with a kitten. Maybe some Michelle Shocked, turned up really loud? And more coffee.

This is a test of the emergency broadcasting system....

Will this post? We'll see!

I am staying up far too late tonight

...and it's a good thing. My 2008 taxes are out of the way, along with any future joint taxes. From now on, I do only my own taxes. I met my ex in town to sign them at the post office and send them away. He'll probably be just as happy to do his own now, and no longer have to wait until my business taxes are done. I then took my little netbook over to the Smart Monkey for an hour to work. I'm liking this little computer!

Taxes...that's one more load of guilt off my back. And I have a nice neat file here for 2009, and when forms and reports trickle in.

To my knowledge, that's the last time we see one another ever again, except by chance or accident. In the post office in Ithaca NY, LOL! The end of an era.

After I had said "sign here, and here, and here, and here's your copy" and he left, a gentleman in line said "I do taxes too." I told him my accountant was TurboTax and asked him for his card, but alas, he wasn't taking new clients. Then a woman waved her taxes over her head from the front of the line, and I recognized a woman I adopted a cat too.

She came over after posting her taxes, and said "I have sad news."

I hate that. I hate that more than ANYTHING. It's the way everyone tells me that I cat I adopted to them has died.

So sweet Dart has passed on. First she got a vaccine-site sarcoma and her leg was amputated, which she recovered from. The she went out and took on a weasel in a fight and her wounds became septic even after vet treatment, and she was put down. I'm not even sure I have any photos of Dart. I gave the adopter my card and asked her to please email me, because I had to get my taxes postmarked before 5. I hope she will. Perhaps she won't.

So yet another indoor/outdoor cat has died.

I also received word from my neighbors that Rudy disappeared while they were on vacation this summer.



Rudy was dumped here on the farm, and the neighbors were looking for a warehouse cat. Since he had been used to the outdoors, I sent them Rudy. He lived only a year with them before disappearing. They dropped off his shelter (given to them in case he was ever locked out of the warehouse) last week.

Really, I am absolutely done with adopting friendly cats to indoor-outdoor homes. Only two are alive. The rest are all a progression of injury and illness, all resulting in death. I realize the appeal of an indoor/outdoor cat (after all, I have Bear, and had Nick before that), but no more. Indoor only means indoor only. Period.

I have an symbolic demon that haunts me. As my ex walked away and I felt the weight lifted from me, it was the demon that sent my adopter over to me to let me know Dart was dead. Nonetheless, unlike the old days, I'm not letting this get me down, and the demon is banished immediately.

I have a good life, and even when cats die six years after I've adopted them out, they lived many years, happy and loved. I remind myself that there is not a wild animal on my mountain that dies an easy death, yet they have fulfilling lives. I will not let any demon of coincidence destroy the progress I am making.

Before the adopter had told me the tale, I asked her what Dart had died of, and she said "Courage."

When I die, I want to die of Courage.

Wrestling the paper demon

Sometimes,when I have time to dream, I dream of a day when all my paperwork is nice neat folders, and as soon as a piece of paper enters my home it goes into a file.

While I am no longer ruled by piles of paper, I'm also not in command of it. I have paper from work (faxed, emailed, and postal mailed which must be scanned). I have records for all the cats, and many many vet bills, which need to be copied and included in the folder of each individual cat. I have my father's paperwork (which I had thought was complete, but alas, tis not). I have my own bills that come through. I have receipts for work. Receipts for the cats. Receipts for house repairs. I have my record-keeping books. And then there is the miscellaneous paperwork. The projects you have planned. The article you would like to keep (I no longer do). I also have educational materials that I give out--articles, DVDs, brochures. THREE different types of business cards (work, cats, and wildlife should I ever handle wildlife again), as well as postcards to advertise in a more overt way.

I realize some people manage paper without difficulty. It comes into their lives, and goes out of their lives. I am getting better at this--in fact, quite good compared to the Management By Piles method I used to use. Nonetheless, paper does not EAT. Paper does not BREATHE. Paper does not need to have its LITTERBOX SCOOPED or its LAWN MOWED.

Guess what takes last place at my house?

Paperwork frustrates me, especially when I feel like it is under control, need something, go to grab it, find the nice fat file, and ARGH! The one piece I need is NOT THERE! How can this be? It's not FAIR! I was being GOOD! I should be REWARDED!

I have a desk dedicated for work, and most of my work paperwork is electronic, so luckily that is under control. Still, there are two folders--paperwork that is assigned, ready to be scanned, paperwork that is in process and may or may not be completed. I try to turn the paper "paper" into electronic paper as quickly as possible so I don't have to look at it, but scanning (ugh!) is surely a boring task.

The real issue is personal and cat paperwork. Especially cat paperwork. Let's say I go to the vet. I get a receipt for my bill. This also has the work done on that cat(s). So I need a copy in the cat's file (for the adopter) a copy for my books (taxes if needed) and a copy for my records on that cat (which I keep). That means, ideally, as soon as I get home I should head to the copy machine, copy, and file.

Yeah, right. What normally happens is I have a pile of recent vet receipts, until someone wants to look at a particular cat. Then I dig out the receipt and copy it. If I'm smart, I make enough copies so I can put the original in my tax file as well. If I'm lazy or low on ink, I don't. Which means I have to deal with it again later on (stupid).

Ink and copying is another issue. I live in the hinterlands. I am a two-hour round trip (when all is said and done) from a Staples, or Kinkos. I don't often have two hours. If my brain is engaged, I'll remember to take things into town, or pick up what I need, when I go to Ithaca on the weekends.

Often, my brain is not engaged.

Every time I can't lay my hands on something right away, I swear I'll get every little bit of paper organized. For the most part with new incoming paperwork, that's happening. But the old stuff? Ah!

So very simple requests can turn into a royal pain in the butt. Right now I'm trying to get information to family on the joint bank account I had with dad. Simple, right? Sure, if you are a person who keeps your check register updated, and didn't pay for a lot of bills with your personal debit card because the bank wouldn't open a credit card in your father's name. And if half the paper in your house hadn't left when your partner left. I doubt anything I need left the house, however it did all get moved to different files and places in the house.

So off to the bank to get the missing pieces, where I spend many valuable minutes with a teller who gives me moo-cow eyes telling me how expensive it will be to get the past records. I go home and look again. I go back to the bank and learn that "really expensive" is just a few dollars a record. For goodness sake, I realize we live in a poor region, but don't give me a heart attack woman! So I order the pieces I'm lacking.

All the time I am telling myself "never again, never again."

So if anyone has any really good tips on organizing paperwork, do let me know!




I tripped over the rolls of carpet for almost two weeks before finally making time I did not have to cut and lay it. I was having a major guilt trip the whole time, knowing I should be doing other things (paperwork!) but also knowing I can't get kittens out of the house (seven left!) unless people can get into see them. And kittens eat, poop, and grow (unlike paperwork--although you might argue paperwork grows). To top it off, stress and alcohol give me acne, so I couldn't even drink.

Which is probably a good thing, given that I was working with very sharp knives.



I'm glad that I did get it down, because I am so happy with the result--and the cats are so happy--that when I feel my blood pressure starting to rise, I just stand back and look at it. Nothing like a milk chocolate floor to calm you. And happy cats in the sun. I find them asleep where ever they like, scattered around the floor. Maybe there will be an empty chair for me to sit in now and then!

Warming things up for winter

I finally got the carpet down in both rooms, which was a bit of an adventure since some of the furniture in the den was quite heavy. Trying to fit in projects between all the other things in life has been adventurous as well. I had to concentrate on cutting the carpet slowly and carefully, rather than in my usual slapdash manner...keeping in mind the carpet was expensive.

The carpet became a priority because it was in the way and I need to have people over to adopt kittens.

My home is finally becoming the home of a grownup. I have the decorating sense of a college student in a dorm room. I can't envision what is best for a space, and I also feel like I should use whatever comes my way, when perhaps the best use for the thing would be the garbage or Craigslist. The best part of the major changes in my life these past 17 months is that I now have a new willingness to just get rid of things.

I have resigned myself to the fact that I will only stumble over good room arrangement by accident. I originally wanted the carpet: A) because painting the floor beige last year looked good, but required too much upkeep and B)it was freaking cold in here last winter.

Now that the carpet is down, it draws the entry room and the den together, and it makes the den look like--well--a real room. The area rug that had been in the den (black with a brown aztec-type design) was moved to the great room for lack of another location. I was certain it would be too "busy" for that space. But, surprise! It has instantly transformed half the great room into an area that is positive cozy. The great room? Cozy? Who would have thought.

Sheer accident.

In addition, the carpet, which appeared brown-orange-coppery under the lights at the store, looks like milk chocolate here, and the ceiling in the great room is dark brown. So now it looks like I planned this to tie the two front rooms in with the great room.

Sheer accident.

At least I'm no longer stumbling over huge rolls of carpet, and my tootsies are quite warm, thank you.

Yeah, yeah, another "today is the first day of the rest of my blah, blah, blah..."

So much to do, so little time. Every Friday arrives with a "let's get everything done for the week!(for employment)" attitude, with the hope that my job is all tidied up so I can commit to a sleeves-rolled-up, get-personal-things-done weekend. But 6:00 pm arrives with work left to get done over the weekend, and Monday arrives far too soon!

Nonetheless, the optimism of Friday morning remains.



In the interest of splitting work from regular life, I finally saved enough to get one of those dirt-cheap little netbooks so I am no longer doing anything personal at all on my work computer. My desktop computer upstairs has finally picked up so many quirks it is virtually unusable and needs it's brain wiped by someone who knows what they are doing. I held off for months on the netbook, waiting for the price to fall. I wasn't familiar with the cheapest option from Acer, so hesitated to get it. Then I spotted one of our primo tech guys sporting one at a work meeting and figured "hey, if he'll be seen in public with it, it must not be a piece of crap."

I always gritted my teeth checking my personal and cat email on my work computer, and taking it to adoption events to show off the cats just wasn't an option.

So, nowadays you can get a miniature laptop for $300 bucks. It doesn't have much space to store lots of programs and files, but files can be stored on flashdrives, and there's something to be said about not being able to download all sorts of crap you don't really need, anyway. This thing is fast enough for surfing, blogging, handling photos, etc. that I don't notice any difference between it and my laptop.

It doesn't have much volume, so if you have hearing issues, check that before you buy. You can use headphones if needed.

And it can go anywhere. I can even access most of my work files and work email via the internet, so if I want to work from another location I can do so without risking the work laptop. No more excuses for not updating my poor neglected website!

So no more excuses about not advertising the cats the way they ought to be, or not getting personal work done.

Speaking of employment, off we go.

Checking out the cabin

Up on the hill I have a cabin. I've never stayed there. Some of Mark's college kids camped up there, and there is a hunter and his son who use it each year. Over the years, we've allowed different neighbors and friends to hunt, but they've been more interested in trophies than taking doe off our overpopulated hill. A buck is just one deer. A doe is three deer - herself and the two fawns she would have in spring. If a deer is going to be shot on this hill, it needs to benefit the population, not just put antlers on someone's wall. We finally found someone who would hunt for meat, and he's been hunting here for two years so far.

The cabin has suffered from the weather, so when the hunter offered money this year to use the land, I said "fix up the cabin instead." He, and sometimes his son, have been up there five or six times this summer so I thought I'd go up and see what they accomplished.



Quite a lot. The roof has been painted with roof sealant. The ceiling inside has been painted (to wipe out the old leak marks, to check for new leak marks). They built a little stone threshold, cut down a bunch of old dead trees, moved a lot of junk, and even raked, it looks like.

They even brought up a carpet and a piece of vinyl flooring. I hope the mice don't eat it! And, speaking of which, they even laid out mouse traps (which are unsprung).



The son made a sign, and his father brought it up one day and nailed it to the cabin.



I suppose I should fire up the heater to make sure it is working, and get some water up there so they have something to put out campfires. Maybe I should put a gutter on that cabin and just get a rain barrel. Anyway, I was pleased to see the cabin wasn't going to fall down this year or next.

Go, young traveler, to Chicago.

Oh, hell, go even if you are old. What a gorgeous city! It's hard to keep in mind that, like all cities, it has its challenges. With my train and part of the hotel paid for by work (I paid for the extra night I stayed over), a great conference, and two half days to wander and learn, it was a rare opportunity to take a few breaths and a few steps for myself.

I love traveling alone. While companions are treasured for laughter and sharing (and sharing again, afterward), there is something to be said about sitting when you wish to sit, eating where you wish to eat, napping on a bench in the sun, pulling out a book at your table during your meal, falling asleep with the TV on in the hotel, and deciding to spend the last hours before the train leaves stepping from water taxi to water taxi to watch the city grow dark and the lights grow bright on the river.

Beautiful. Just beautiful.

I went to Chicago with three goals for my free time: Eat really good food, visit the SkyLedge, and buy a ring. (I buy a locally made ring, when I can, everywhere I travel). I did eat, I did get up to the Ledge (the regular windows had better views, IMO), but I couldn't find a local craft jeweler anywhere. I guess I needed to wander over to The Magnificent Mile, but time was too short.

The water taxi more than made up for any ring. I love finding beauty for just a handful of dollars, and it probably was the most beautiful experience I've had in any city.

So now I am home and inspired by the Feline Forum. I can't say I'm rested, but I'm certainly revived.



(the view from the water taxi, approaching Navy Pier, around 7:00pm)

Thinking that I might be happy

Yup, I think all ya'll worriers can find something to worry about other than me. I was sitting here on the porch the other day wondering what had changed and realized I don't feel GUILTY all the time. No guilt about my cats, about what colors I choose to paint the walls, about whether the grass got a little bit tall before being mowed, about whether my partner is doing more work than I am on the property (because now I'm doing it all)...

I don't have to obsess about being I'm too tired from work, home, and cats to be affectionate enough--because now I don't have to be affectionate at ALL. And you know, there's something to be said for that!.

I'm able to do things that I had compromised on before for the sake of the relationship. Don't get me wrong. It's worth compromising for the benefits you get from a partnership. You OUGHT to compromise on things when you love someone. But I have to say, once the pain of a breakup fade, the benefits of singlehood shine through.

It's funny to see what is getting done now that didn't get done for ten years...even though before there were two people here instead of one. I have to wonder what tied our hands. For the first time since I've been here, my front garden is actually a front garden, albeit a somewhat wild one (Yes, that is a zucchini in there). The house is (still slowly) getting painted. I'm looking forward to having the house redecorated by next spring.

Now all I have to do is get some serious drawing done, as well as some writing. When I sit back with a glass of wine and look up at a finished drawing...well, then I'll know things are really really OK.

Here's to all my friends, and my family, and all those Friends of Wildrun. You have saved my life, and I know it!

It's September.

And September is MY month. Well, my sister Linda's too. And now and then a new song comes across the radio that makes you keep the truck on when you pull in the drive, just so you can sit and listen.

Turn off the monitor to avoid those annoying colors and listen.




So damn easy to say that life's so hard
Everybody's got their share of battle scars
As for me, I'd like to thank my lucky stars that I'm alive and well...
It'd be easy to add up all the pain
And all the dreams you sat and watched go up in flames
Dwell on the wreckage as it smolders in the rain
But not me...I'm alive


And today you know that's good enough for me
Breathin' in and out's a blessing can't you see
Today's the first day of the rest of my life and I'm alive
And well...I'm alive and well

The stars are dancin' on the water here tonight
It's gonna fall a soul when there's not a soul in sight
This boat has caught its wind and brought me back to life now I'm alive and well

And today you know that's good enough for me
Breathin' in and out's a blessing can't you see
Today's the first day of the rest of my life and I'm alive
And well...I'm alive and well

Kenny Chesney and Dave Matthews.

Summer ends; fall begins; nesting

My neighbor around the corner used to have a "perpetual garage sale." This year she held no sales at all, which was sad because I enjoyed knocking around in them, but is just as well for me, because this woman doesn't stock junk and I always found something to buy. She has a knack for finding very cool, antique to near-antique stuff. Monday, I was running into Ithaca to feed the cats and realized she had her sale up...the only time this summer. Argh! On the way home I stopped by, and of course found something silly to buy for $3--a cat doorstop (signed, but I can't read the signature) that I am using to hold open the screen door on the den.

I'll know life is back to normal when that screen door is back in the barn.

Then I discovered she was the person who left this note. Well, I probably would have helped her had I realized it was her...but it's just as well I didn't, because she caught the little cat on her own, took it to the vet, and the cat is now living as happy as a clam in their house.

So there you go.

I'm down to three kittens in the house because Francine is at the off-site cage at Cornerstone. It seems nearly quiet here! That will end, since I have four in the barn who will soon come in, or go to foster homes. Still, at least they are going out about as fast as they are going in.

I'm waiting impatiently and happily for my carpet to arrive. The thought of having floor covering that is clean, one color (versus countless throw rugs), and a color of my own choosing, thrills me. And two rooms with matching carpet, running into one another? You mean...continuity?

I'm not quite sure what's up with the gold and brown theme that is running through my life lately. I've decided not to wonder about it. For some reason I look at colors ranging from deep gold to copper and think "I want THAT." Well, okay, fine.

Sometimes I think "There's too much yellow and gold in the house." Then I get the same attitude that I did with the tattoo. Who the hell cares? It's my house. It's not like there are hundreds of people passing through here. It's probably more important that I like it, because then I'll keep it nicely. People are more likely to notice that the house is clean than "gosh, all her rooms are yellow or gold."

Speaking of tattoos, I continue to be very pleased with mine. I have no regrets at all...not one tiny twinge.

These days are so gorgeous. I love fall. I try not to think about the snow that will fall soon and enjoy these beautiful days.

Happy Labor Day...now get back to work

Yeah, I know it's a fuzzy photo, but I was too lazy to take more.

Fart and Hiccup were adopted today, leaving little Burp alone with the teenagers, and he doesn't seem too intimidated, as long as there is a door between them!

With Henry adopted as well, that's three kittens off to new homes this week.

You can see the pink carpet in the photo. Donna and Tim had old carpet come their way and I put some of it down in the walk-in room to see if I could tolerate carpet in that area. The floor near the bow window is like ice in the winter. But carpet and cats? Not to mention a little dog who isn't absolutely perfect with her house training? No way did I want to spend money on carpet, only to regret it later.

However, the cats were happy as clams once that carpet was down. I even found them sound asleep on it a few times. Apparently they have no sense of interior decorating and didn't notice how badly the bright yellow walls went with pink carpet. Ditzy obliged by throwing up on it three times to give me a nice "real world" experience.

So off I went, and after some serious sticker shock, purchased a really beautiful copper brown carpet for the walk-in room (but not the hall way) and the fireplace room. It won't be wall to wall in both rooms, and I'll be installing it myself (no way could I afford the $2000 I was quoted at two places to have two rooms entirely professionally carpeted). But it will be clean and neat, and it should tie the two rooms together. Especially once the screen door is down and stowed in the barn again after kitten season!

You little son of a *$&##!!!!!

Do you know how much this hat COST?

I got it at the Lorenzo competition last year and it was the only one there! I love this hat!

Oh well. I cut the chewed parts off and I guess now it has character.

Dogs!!!!

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.

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!

You know I can never get a recipe right.

You've just gotta be sure to read the comments!

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.

Is this not a LOL picture waiting for a caption?

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

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!