A Long Talk With Liza

       Anyone who has a cat knows that cats don’t like change! Right? Well, Liza got a double dose of it this morning. And I paid for it!

I look and feel like I’ve been in a fight with a mountain lion!

After being up all night, we (Liza and I) couldn’t sleep this morning because my granddaughter, Carson, had a pre-scheduled appointment with her grandpa for some car repairs. So – Liza had to deal, not only with not sleeping late beside me – but also, with someone who is usually not here, coming into “her space” before she’d even had breakfast! If cat stares could kill, Carson would be... well, you know.

Liza likes Carson, she just likes her schedule more: sleep, breakfast, sitting with me while I have coffee, catch up on news and pet her. Then a nap. But none of that happened, at least not the way she’s used to it happening. She had to eat while being watchful of Carson walking around, wasn’t able to sit with me and watch news, and got no petting at all! And somewhere along the line, she decided enough was enough!

I was sitting on a bar stool in the kitchen and, without warning, Liza – not the most graceful cat you’ve ever seen – took a leap and landed half-on and half-off my lap. I let out a blood-curdling scream as she dangled there for several seconds with extended claws planted deeply into my legs. She finally let go and took off like a shot, probably scared by the scream. Blood seeped from several long scratches on both legs and we didn’t see Liza again until after Carson left.

I doctored my wounds and Liza finally came out of hiding. Her wide-eyed, innocent look was unbelievable! She acted like nothing had happened, as cats are famous for doing.

“What’s happening?” she seemed to say.

We had a long talk. I explained that she needs to learn to be a little more accepting of people who visit. “We all like our schedules,” I told her, but things can’t always go our way.” Ignoring me, she walked over and stood by the refrigerator – meaning, “Isn’t it time for lunch now?”

After lunch, I told her that I may take her to the local animal shelter if she doesn’t learn to adapt to changes.

By the way she washed her face while I was talking, I don’t think she was very worried. J

www.amazon.com/author/peggytoneyhorton 

Ah, September!

More Thoughts to Ponder

If, in a baseball game, the batter hits a ball, splitting it right down the center with half the ball flying out of the park and the other half being caught, what is the final ruling?

Why do you press harder on the buttons of a remote control when you know the batteries are dead?

Do infants enjoy infancy as much as adults enjoy adultery?

What hair color do they put on the drivers licenses of bald men?

Why can't women put on mascara with their mouth closed?

Why is a person who plays the piano called a pianist, but a person who drives a race car not called a racist?

When does it stop being partly cloudy and start being partly sunny?

Why do caregiver and caretaker mean the same thing?

Why are there Interstate highways in Hawaii?

Do you wake up or open your eyes first?

Do people in prison celebrate Halloween.... if so how?

What do people in China call their good plates?

What are the handles for corn on the cob called?

If the funeral procession is at night, do folks drive with their headlights off?

When your photo is taken for your driver's license, why do they tell you to smile? If you are stopped by the police and asked for your license, are you going to be smiling?

Why are women and men's shoe sizes different?

How come you can kill a deer and put it up on your wall, but it's illegal to keep one as a pet?

Does vacuuming count as Aerobic Exercise?

Why do they lock gas station bathrooms? Are they afraid someone will clean them?

How do you handcuff a one-armed man?

If a man is standing in the middle of the forest speaking and there is no woman around to hear him - is he still wrong?

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A Day of Prayer

Before 9-11

In my little corner of the world today, a warm, sunny day is predicted; a fitting day to bow our heads in prayerful silence and recall what happened on this day fifteen years ago – 9-11-01. It was a beautiful sunny morning, but we will remember only the sheer horror and disbelief we felt as we watched the news media play the shocking scenes over and over again. The memory of it will be passed on to children and grandchildren who weren’t yet born or were too young to remember. Like the memory of Pearl Harbor, it will be passed on and on and on. It shall never be forgotten!

Big Red and Me

So... I’m driving along on my favorite thoroughfare a little while ago, enjoying a beautiful 68° sunny afternoon – listening to Harold Smith – Uh... Aerosmith on the radio when suddenly, a check in the rear view tells me there’s a big red car on my bumper! The speed limit is 45 on this part of the little country road. I'm  going at least 55, but that's not enough for “Big Red.”

Good Grief! All I wanted to do was drive along listening to music and enjoy a beautiful day. I don’t get out that often. In fact, I get out so seldom that I sometimes forget things that should be second nature to me. When I left the beauty salon, I embarrassed myself by clicking the wrong button to unlock my car door. To my surprise, “Pop” went the trunk!

I felt my face redden as there was a service man getting out of his truck nearby and I knew he’d be thinking – “Ditzy woman!”, but I didn’t give him the chance. I turned on that old, “I meant to do that” attitude as I rummaged around in my trunk for a couple of minutes. The only thing I could find to make the ruse look legitimate was a plastic bag so I grabbed it, shook it hard, making sure the man not only saw it, but also heard it, then I closed the trunk, unlocked my car door with the right button, got in and drove off smiling. J

But, I digress.

Big Red follows me all the way home. I slow down and speed up. Doesn’t matter. He stays right with me until we get to the intersection in my hometown. I go straight and he turns right. I think about turning around and doing the same thing to him – following him as closely as possible for as long as possible, but the thought doesn’t last long. I'm almost home and it's still a lovely day.

And like Harold Smith, I don’t want to miss a thing!

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Our Home in the Heavens

     We once lived in a two-story house so high on a hill that you could almost reach up and touch the clouds.

To get there, you had to drive around and around a hillside on a narrow road – nearly meeting yourself coming back in one spot – and when you finally reached flat land, you were in front of our house – except you still had to look up to see it! It sat on top of another hill and had 30 or 40 steps leading to it.

Higher and higher you climbed until you were on the front porch, which was the full width of the house and had a porch swing at one end. I enjoyed many summer evenings swinging on that old squeaky swing with my children.

Inside the house, there was a large living room with a fireplace on one side and a flight of stairs on the other. On the second floor, there were three bedrooms and a large bathroom.

In the master bedroom, on the front of the house, there were three windows, side by side. Looking down from the windows almost made you dizzy. You could see the hillside that you drove ‘round and ‘round on to get all the way up there.

This had to be about as close to Heaven as one can get without dying.

We moved there in midsummer – a spectacular time! With copious blooming flowers and trees, cultivated by the previous owners, surrounding the house, it felt surreal – like another world – and yet, in only five minutes, you could be “off the hill” and back into civilization.

Winters were beautiful, but difficult. It was nearly impossible to drive the hill in the snow and walking it was not much easier. However, when snow covered the abundant foliage and long icicles hung off roof edges, it was a lovely sight to behold and felt even more otherworldly than summer.

The children played on the hillside that was our front yard. Although it was practically a prerequisite to have one leg shorter than the other, they adjusted and had a wonderful time. One saving grace was the concrete patio at the back – right outside the kitchen door. It was the width of the house, giving our daughter, the youngest at the time, plenty of room to ride her tricycle. We bought a six-foot long redwood picnic table where they enjoyed sharing their summer lunches with ants and bees. J

Family picnics were great there, too!

Our two sons started school during our time on the hill. Oh, how I worried when they left in the mornings to walk down the many steps that took them off the almost vertical hillside and then, several blocks to the school they attended. Fortunately, our next door neighbors had a daughter, a few years older, who agreed to look after them both going and coming. In those days – people helped each other without expecting anything in return.  J 

That trudge to school – even in wintertime – is still a good memory for both sons.

After four short years, we were forced to move when we learned our family was growing but our house, which had exactly enough room, was not.

Moving day was sad. None of us wanted to leave our home in the heavens. But God always provides a pleasant memory to ease the pain of a bad experience.

Unbeknownst to us, our youngest son sneaked a kitten into the moving van just before its doors were closed. Hours later, when we unloaded and found a hungry black kitty meowing at us – and learned how it got there – we shared a good laugh and Cleo had a good home until she died many years later.

“Beautiful memories are the glue that holds families together.”

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Oh, No! Not That!

Twelve-year-old Chase had been a little disrespectful lately and his mom was  losing patience.

“Get some clothes together. I’m taking you to Maw-Maw’s,” she told him. ”Maybe you’ll know how to act after a few days with her.”

A single mom who had to hold down a job, take care of a house and two children, she often felt overwhelmed, especially since the kids were getting older and were sometimes unruly.

When she got overtired and short of patience, she threatened them with me as a way to get them in line. She was certain I’d apply the same strict rules to her children that I had to her growing up, but she didn’t quite understand that it doesn’t work the same with grandchildren.

And we never told her. (Smile)

I always knew when Chase was coming, of course, and was ready for him. His room was clean, special foods bought and meals planned to his liking. His visits were fun for me as I had few responsibilities and sometimes got bored. A few days with him was the shot in the arm I needed to get me on track again.

He was just like me – a night owl! Staying up some nights until two or three a.m., we’d sit at the kitchen bar, he at one end and I at the other, playing on our computers and making conversation. I’d bake cookies to snack on or we’d have vanilla ice cream drizzled with my homemade chocolate sauce.

Sometimes we’d change things a bit by playing a few games of gin rummy – for pennies. Chase’s money-making instincts surfaced early in life. He wouldn’t even consider wasting time on cards if money wasn’t involved.

When we finally went to bed, we slept as late as we wanted since neither of us had a pressing reason to get up. Summer months were no problem and in winter, his homeschool hours were flexible.

After breakfast, we’d sometimes take a walk around the neighborhood or watch a little TV or just get right back to our computers. Nothing was scheduled. It was all fun and games.

He’d usually stay for three or four days before his mother phoned and said, “Are you ready to come home?”

“I guess so, he’d answer.”

“Do you think you can act right now?”

“Yeah, I think so.”

Truth was, he really wasn’t ready to go home. Why should he be?

But he packed his bag and waited for “Mom” to pick him up. Then he’d sheepishly drag along beside her to the car, faking a pout that implied he’d learned his lesson the hard way.

This went on for a few years before his mom realized he didn’t need to go to Maw-Maw’s for a realignment anymore.

Mission accomplished!

Though we never discussed it, Chase and I have an unspoken agreement that what happens at Maw-Maw’s stays at Maw-Maw’s!

www.amazon.com/author/peggytoneyhorton