Category: cats

Who am I to choose? How many of us would go back and undo becoming parents if we knew how much pain would be mixed in with the good? 

Would I go back and undo my life with my favorite pets if I knew how hard it would be to take care of them for so many years, and then to feel the pain of loss when they pass?

While I understand the question says “have” in this prompt, I like to think outside most boxes. How does one explain impact from a current thing… doesn’t it require some looking back on a thing to see whether it leaves evidence of positive or negative? How can one know for certainty, in the here and now of a relationship, whether it is a good thing for us, or a bad one? 

When we gather information, usually we do it in a survey of sorts… good points over bad ones. I choose to not let this prompt question become an unhealthy survey of life and love!

I have three adult daughters that barely look my way, six grandchildren I am not able to be close with, a family that rejected and abandoned me, a church family that kicked me out after my divorce, all but two souls that were friends turned away, we lost our home along with all that was within its walls… and on and on and on and on… see where I’m going with this? 

Let’s look a little closer at what I shared… it’s ok… this is not a pity party, in fact, it’s a walk of Praise!

The children and grandchildren were and are a miracle and a gift, so I’m not about to return them to the manufacturer… no way to separate all the good from the bad, the beauty from the ugly, nor the joy from the pain. The fibers that bind us are too tightly woven for that, as my blood runs through their veins and they share my DNA!

I remember every single pet I have ever owned, and I would not ever trade the memories, good or bad… they made my world a better place, and their memories do that for me to this very day!

The lessons I learned from the kindness and cruelty of church and friendship have made me the woman I am today… and I love who God has grown me up to become. I will take every one of my experiences, and scars as well, to guide me along the paths of this world. God uses my good, my bad, and my ugly, to guide me on as a wiser and kinder soul than when I began…

Here, have a cookie…

Brutus is ready for some Rugby action!

He can even change his colors if needed…

When I told him about the idea, he was green with envy over the mascot position, so I hired him for the job!

Once he turned green it was perfect for the color choices because of the holidays and all…

Adding the red and purple as our team colors seemed perfectly natural. 

Brutus found a friend and asked if I would make her a shirt too… Meet Dinky! She follows Brutus all over the rugby field and copies everything he does. I think she’s adorable don’t you?

She is still too small to be out on the field without getting trampled by accident, so Brutus will do all that part.

Brutus wanted the number 8 for his Jersey, to match the number of horns on his forehead. If you count more or less than that, please don’t say anything to him, because he is so excited! 

At his request, we named our rugby team the Dangerous Dragons… it may not seem like a great name, but the other two choices Brutus came up with were not very appealing. The first was Dragon Ballers and the second was Dirty Dragons and neither seemed appropriate, so Dangerous Dragons it is…

Here’s a cookie…

Please eat them and help me get them out of my virtual house… you know how it is with Holiday Leftovers.

I am choosing to stand down on this daily prompt, as my attitude towards our Government and Politics is tenuous at best!

So that I can retain my commitment to keep it healthy and not flippant in what I write for responses, I am stepping down from my opinion box.

As they taught us in school as children, if you can’t say anything nice, don’t say anything at all…

Here, have a cookie…

I don’t know about any of you, but I always wanted to get picked up and swirled into a different land, just like Dorothy from The Wizard of Oz. I dreamt of it often when I was small, just as it looked in Oz. As I grew up, obviously I didn’t keep dreaming the idea of a child, so the dream began to morph somewhat, or mature, if you will. I’ve never really shared with anyone what this dream looks like, but now thanks to my AI tool, I think I just might be able to do this very thing.

When I was small, I don’t think I dreamt of books or writing journals, but as I began discovering my love for literature in all forms, I think this was where my vision of a safe harbor began to change…

In the beginning, it was just me myself and I… alone, but safe in a place of peace and happiness.

The dream seemed lonely to just hang around a barn in the country all by myself, so I started imagining things nearby to interact with if it became too quiet.

After a time, as I began reading more and more… I began to desire more close company when I went to this oasis of peace. So I invited a friend…

Once I did that… well, all the doors flew off my barn and in came more inspiration. I had read every one of Louis Lamour’s stories by then…

As my love for books and stories began to shift towards creating my own adventures, my safe haven morphed somewhat into a farmyard menagerie…

This secret place was where I often went for peace and calm, when my world felt overly chaotic. I never stopped dreaming about this secret place, though now it is much simpler and less scattered… maybe because I started writing out everything that was in my head and heart.

I will now show you my safe haven, in a way that I currently would dream it, if I could bring it to fruition as a book nook. 

This would now be the front yard or entryway, since my foals grew too big for the back of the stable. They take lawn management very seriously, hence the nicely clipped grass…

This is my nook where I would spend my work hours…

I will never be bored or lonely from my time in this hidden oasis for creative writing… no no… you still need to come and see who is in the back yard.

Brutus can easily come in or out through that window I left open for him.

There you have it folks, my perfect place to read and write… I think this is totally doable!

Here, have a cookie…

I like them big… loud, and able to take a hit or two! 

I don’t need them new, I don’t want em pretty… I want dirt, mud and chips in the windshield! You see all these commercials for some pretty beautiful rigs, but I highly doubt anyone who just dropped 60 to 80k will be playing in the mud much! Every single bump and ding just brings up dollar signs for at least the first two years. 

Now, I didn’t say there was anything bad about those newer trucks… they are gorgeous, really! But this girl always thinks ahead, when it comes to the long run… sometimes good ole fashioned farm trucks will do the trick… they can take a hit from a bull, haul tons of hay, roll right on through the mud, and when they break down… the engine is simple enough to work on yourself with minimal tools and solid parts. 

I’m gonna let it all hang out on this one… I am a country girl… all the way down the lane to the farm! I did my fair share of cow tipping and Snype hunting as a kid… yup, that was me growing up! Now, when you hear me say that I am made GOD tough… you get where the reference was from… this tiny lady is corn fed, tough as nails, born for the wilds, and not in the least sorry!

Putting me in a pretty little sports car is laughable… I’d either break one of the dials in the first five minutes, or spill my fries right down between the two front seats!

For the sake of the vehicle, as well as my peace of mind, just put me in something big and tough… you don’t even have to paint it, cause I’d have fun splashing it with a can of old tractor paint out of the barn. This is also a great deterrent to thieves. IF they got past my oversized guard dogs, if they didn’t know the trick to starting the engine with the screwdriver laying on the floorboard… well, it would be a long and cold night out in that barn… hehehehehehehe!

Here, have a cookie…