I have a lead foot when it comes to my little red Miata. I love scooting around the back roads . . . faster than the law allows . . . top down . . . screeching around corners . . . spewing gravel . . . it just makes my heart soar. Toad of Toad Hall has nothing on me.
But . . . every weekday morning, I take my granddaughter to school. I behave. I drive carefully and follow the speed limit . . . I grumble about speeders in the school zone, I bemoan those ignoring the yellow safety lights . . . I have precious cargo.
At least once a week, usually twice, I see him. He drives a big gold Ford truck, weaving through lanes to gain an extra inch. Cutting people off, gunning off the lights, tailgating, honking, gesturing slow pokes out of the way. He plows in behind me until all I see is grill work in my rear view mirror. I tighten my knuckles around the steering wheel and hold tight. He soon gets tired of trying to bully me into speeding up and swerves around me. I call him FLASH. I don't much like him.
Since they have been widening and resurfacing that stretch of road, there have been more cops out than normal. Somehow, FLASH has sneaked under the radar all these months. But not today. Having blown past me as if I were standing still, there he was . . . pulled off to the side of the road . . . police lights flashing. I felt the small upward tug at the corners of my mouth give way to a full fledged smile and on into a delighted grin. It has made my day.
Tuesday, April 28, 2009
Sunday, April 26, 2009
the cast of characters . . .
Someone asked who was who, or is that whom? So I have collected all the players and am pleased to present . . . . in no particular order . . . the 9TS:
He is king.
Then there is me. It's my blog and I am, as usual, behind the camera. I like it there:
I am, of course, married to the 9TS er . . . king . . . .
And then there is my offspring, Katie:
She is up and running but thankfully remembers where her favorite meals can be found and wanders home when hungry.
And then there is the menagerie. Snoop is oldest, so he comes first . . . proprietary rights after
all:
we found him in the woods behind the house. After 15 years he finally lets me pet him. He's our high strung personality . . . oh wait, that would be me . . .
And then comes Moak:
He belongs to the offspring but visits often . . . to the dismay of the twins.
I had to wake him up to get that shot . . . he was not happy.
Sometimes, he gets matted . . . and then he gets shaved . . . and then he loses all dignity . . .
and then he pouts until his hair grows back. It takes months. He can get quite grumpy . . .
Finally, come the twins. Bear first, he is bigger:
the twins came from a shelter. Bear doesn't know he isn't a bear. He doesn't even know he is a Maine Coon cat.
and lastly there is Ninja. She is smaller but shaped like a football . . .
She is our monster child . . . into everything . . . it's very disconcerting to see two yellow eyes staring from the dark. She is the proud possessor of five white hairs. Otherwise she is quite invisible at night . . . .
That is everyone . . . the entire entourage. Now you know who is who . . . or is that whom?
He is king.
Then there is me. It's my blog and I am, as usual, behind the camera. I like it there:
I am, of course, married to the 9TS er . . . king . . . .
And then there is my offspring, Katie:
She is up and running but thankfully remembers where her favorite meals can be found and wanders home when hungry.
And then there is the menagerie. Snoop is oldest, so he comes first . . . proprietary rights after
all:
we found him in the woods behind the house. After 15 years he finally lets me pet him. He's our high strung personality . . . oh wait, that would be me . . .
And then comes Moak:
He belongs to the offspring but visits often . . . to the dismay of the twins.
I had to wake him up to get that shot . . . he was not happy.
Sometimes, he gets matted . . . and then he gets shaved . . . and then he loses all dignity . . .
and then he pouts until his hair grows back. It takes months. He can get quite grumpy . . .
Finally, come the twins. Bear first, he is bigger:
the twins came from a shelter. Bear doesn't know he isn't a bear. He doesn't even know he is a Maine Coon cat.
and lastly there is Ninja. She is smaller but shaped like a football . . .
She is our monster child . . . into everything . . . it's very disconcerting to see two yellow eyes staring from the dark. She is the proud possessor of five white hairs. Otherwise she is quite invisible at night . . . .
That is everyone . . . the entire entourage. Now you know who is who . . . or is that whom?
Friday, April 24, 2009
if you really want it . . .
Moak is a rather large, slow, lumbering beast. He's an easy going sort of soul, taking life at his own pace. He has three speeds. Slow, slower and beyond cold molasses running up hill. His topping the scale at close to 20 pounds, doesn't help things much. Does this bother him? Not at all. He gets where he wants to go . . . in his own sweet time . . . . something that is bound to drive you batty in the dead of winter when it takes him a full five minutes to amble through the door . . . letting in the Arctic air with him. And yes, yes . . . we do have Arctic air down here. I am sure of it.
But there is one flaw in his armor of sluggishness. One Achilles heel. Lizards. Show this behemoth a chameleon and all bets are off. He'll leave you in the dust. His bones and frame are, admittedly, a few nano seconds ahead of his blubber which makes for amusing watching, but once in motion, he's faster than Roadrunner escaping Wiley Coyote.
The other day while Katie, Moaky and I were relaxing in the sun . . . each ensconced on our own chaise, I saw his fur start to twitch. Two seconds later he had gone from recumbent squidge to fearsome predator. In a flash he was on the tail of one lackadaisical chameleon who foolhardily slipped through the screens and onto the pool deck. Silly wayward lizard.
Moak almost got him and would have too, except that the lizard dove head first into the pool and Moak draws the line at anything smacking of dampness. Eyes aglitter, Moak was weighing his options.
I am not fond of lizards. Katie, has since she was very little, had an affinity for the little creatures. Thus, any encounters requiring removal, fall squarely in her domain. And since the lizard was getting exhausted and Moak was salivating copious quantities of unwanted fluid into the pool, Katie was called upon.
The lizard was evacuated to a safer climate. Moak, scowling his discontent, ambled back to his chaise, plopped himself down and glared one more look of deep disapproval before closing his eyes and visiting the sandman once again.
But there is one flaw in his armor of sluggishness. One Achilles heel. Lizards. Show this behemoth a chameleon and all bets are off. He'll leave you in the dust. His bones and frame are, admittedly, a few nano seconds ahead of his blubber which makes for amusing watching, but once in motion, he's faster than Roadrunner escaping Wiley Coyote.
The other day while Katie, Moaky and I were relaxing in the sun . . . each ensconced on our own chaise, I saw his fur start to twitch. Two seconds later he had gone from recumbent squidge to fearsome predator. In a flash he was on the tail of one lackadaisical chameleon who foolhardily slipped through the screens and onto the pool deck. Silly wayward lizard.
Moak almost got him and would have too, except that the lizard dove head first into the pool and Moak draws the line at anything smacking of dampness. Eyes aglitter, Moak was weighing his options.
I am not fond of lizards. Katie, has since she was very little, had an affinity for the little creatures. Thus, any encounters requiring removal, fall squarely in her domain. And since the lizard was getting exhausted and Moak was salivating copious quantities of unwanted fluid into the pool, Katie was called upon.
The lizard was evacuated to a safer climate. Moak, scowling his discontent, ambled back to his chaise, plopped himself down and glared one more look of deep disapproval before closing his eyes and visiting the sandman once again.
Thursday, April 23, 2009
Wednesday, April 22, 2009
insomnia and chaos . . .
I was exhausted tonight. I think yoga beats the stuffing out of me. I was snoring before the end of Dancing with the Stars, which of course means . . . in all likelihood, that I will wake up in the middle of the night to twiddle my thumbs . . . again.
At first being awake in a quiet house is a wonderful thing. It's spring and the windows are open. I can hear the train in the distance who who-ing it's lonesome cry. . . . the soft sounds of tires on asphalt from a few blocks away . . . an occasional dog waking from a deep sleep, woofing his disapproval . . . the soft whoosh of the sprinkler system next door.
The 9TS wanders up. He too, cannot sleep.
One by one, the cats come to visit. They like to snuggle against a warm body. Pretty soon, all three are curled up keeping us company. But since Katie is home for a visit, so is her Moak. Although Moak grew up here and is used to the lay of the land, the twins moved in after Moak moved away with Katie. The twins do not share well. They are spoiled . . . territorial . . . demanding. Tonight in the wee hours, Moak wandered in to visit as well. It was a visit not well received by those already ensconced on the bed. A guttural noise . . . some fast scuffling and the fur began to fly.
I grabbed Bear while the 9TS lunged for Moak who ran into Katie's room and woke her as well. Ninja scrambled under the bed away from the fray. Snoop, a bundle of nerves on a good day, was furtive and tense, shifting his weight ready to flee . . . eyes wide. It's 1:45 and the whole house is up and rocking. Who needs HBO!
At first being awake in a quiet house is a wonderful thing. It's spring and the windows are open. I can hear the train in the distance who who-ing it's lonesome cry. . . . the soft sounds of tires on asphalt from a few blocks away . . . an occasional dog waking from a deep sleep, woofing his disapproval . . . the soft whoosh of the sprinkler system next door.
The 9TS wanders up. He too, cannot sleep.
One by one, the cats come to visit. They like to snuggle against a warm body. Pretty soon, all three are curled up keeping us company. But since Katie is home for a visit, so is her Moak. Although Moak grew up here and is used to the lay of the land, the twins moved in after Moak moved away with Katie. The twins do not share well. They are spoiled . . . territorial . . . demanding. Tonight in the wee hours, Moak wandered in to visit as well. It was a visit not well received by those already ensconced on the bed. A guttural noise . . . some fast scuffling and the fur began to fly.
I grabbed Bear while the 9TS lunged for Moak who ran into Katie's room and woke her as well. Ninja scrambled under the bed away from the fray. Snoop, a bundle of nerves on a good day, was furtive and tense, shifting his weight ready to flee . . . eyes wide. It's 1:45 and the whole house is up and rocking. Who needs HBO!
Friday, April 17, 2009
TYL . . .
Life has been a little challenging lately. But if I needed affirmation that the good Lord watches over me, I have gotten in it spades.
1.) Kelli sent me the quote I mentioned a few posts ago.
2.) My roommate, from freshman year in high school, who does not have access to my blog, sent me the same quote out of the blue.
3.) Katie mentioned, while on a ride, that she thought I needed that quote.
4.) Paula, my neighbor who moved away last year, and who does read my blog, rang our door bell tonight. In her hand was a framed quote. One guess what it was. She told me she had had it for a while but had not hung it. When she read my blog she said she knew she had to bring it down to me since they would be in the area.
Amazing. Simple amazing. Thank you Kelli, thank you Lisa, thank you Katie, thank you Paula, TYL.
1.) Kelli sent me the quote I mentioned a few posts ago.
2.) My roommate, from freshman year in high school, who does not have access to my blog, sent me the same quote out of the blue.
3.) Katie mentioned, while on a ride, that she thought I needed that quote.
4.) Paula, my neighbor who moved away last year, and who does read my blog, rang our door bell tonight. In her hand was a framed quote. One guess what it was. She told me she had had it for a while but had not hung it. When she read my blog she said she knew she had to bring it down to me since they would be in the area.
Amazing. Simple amazing. Thank you Kelli, thank you Lisa, thank you Katie, thank you Paula, TYL.
Thursday, April 16, 2009
redux . . .
Papers: Jessica Sprague, Flower: Vinnie Pearce, Stitches: Anna Aspnes, Swirl: Fei Fei, Fonts: You are Loved, ck-Ali's_writing, Retro Rock Poster, Georgia.
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