Blenz . . .

I bought a Foto Blenz Template kit by Anna Aspnes, in anticipation of our getaway next month. Still being a little left brain - right brained about Mac, I decided to go for a test run. Very run of the mill layout, but I can see I am going to love these templates and they will ensure my photos make it into an album. Soooo excited.

David and Goliath . . .

Ever since Bear out sized Snoop, which was probably at the end of his fifth month . . . Bear being Maine Coon and Snoop being a rather small Siamese/alley cat . . . Bear sought to make Snoop his personal toy. He would bathe him, pounce on him, steal his food, sit on him, nudge him out of the way, use him as a pillow, follow him into his hidey holes and just generally make a pest of himself.

Which is not to say that small is not sassy. Snoop would take just so much and then POW!!! the boxing match was on. Fast footed Snoop always got in more punches and jabs than the slower, lumbering Bear. One final swat and he'd head for higher ground leaving a somewhat disgruntled and dazed Bear in his wake.

There were times, especially in winter when I would find them sacked out, Snoop in the curve of Bear's "Baby Huey" body but more often than not, chaos reigned . . . especially at 4:00 a.m.

But now that Snoop has departed, Bear has gone into mourning for his little buddy. He searches Katie's room for him, wanders around listlessly and hides under my bed for hours at a time.

I wonder if Snoop knows how much Goliath misses him. I like to think he does.

finally . . .

some relief. The poor 9TS has been in never ending pain since his last operation. Finally the other night it culminated as he asked me to look at one of the incisions. I will save you the details, but it seems the poor sad sloth had been growing his very own abscess. A very well fed, well attended abscess. I called Moffitt and they said, do not pass go, head straight to our local PCP, who promptly lanced it, cultured it and ordered elephant sized antibiotics for a relatively medium sized sloth. Today he felt remarkably better. Yay Sloth!!!! Life is good again.

Rest in Peace . . .

My sweet blue eyed Snoop.

it is time . . .

to run away again. To celebrate what is, instead of what might be. We are packing our bags next month and leaving for parts unknown, charting a course o'er the deep blue sea . . . It is once again time to soak up some far off ambiance, relax, nosh and find ourselves again . . . redefining what is.

I cannot wait. We need this jaunt. This exploration into unfamiliar territory. This chance to reconnect and unwind . . . to explore that which will create memories of a life time.

more loveliness . . .

from the Farmer's Market . . .

sigh . . .

I am going to miss the soft breezes wafting though my bedroom every morning . . . the sounds of various feathered friends waking up and singing their sweet songs . . . the smell of wet grass . . . the cats each perched on a sill, noses to the screens, watching a world so different from their own . . .

But alas, this is Florida and summer is here.



It's not the heat . . . I love the deep penetrating warmth on my old bones. It is of course, the humidity . . . air so thick you wonder if you can breathe . . . that miasma which sucks the starch out of clothes and people alike. A permeable dampness that invades the soul.

And so, today, we will shutter the windows and turn on the air conditioner and sleep at night within the habitat of our own making. We will bathe in the cool air and enjoy all that is this small southern town.

Until next fall, sweet air, I bid you adieu . . .