Month: October 2011

Who's She, The Cat's Mother?

Growing up, I wanted to be a lot of things.   Writer, nurse, Mom and bus-driver topped my list, written when I was 6, in rainbow block crayon.  I also wanted to be a lawyer, an artist specialising in Spin-art, and a country singer.  So it was a long list, and vet was not on it.  I am a people person from way back. I have always loved dogs.  Big ones with bigger eyes.  Shrill, yappy ones have never been good for my nerves. My Dad always had dogs.  I thought of them as siblings.  Mom had a cocker spaniel that I got for Christmas one year.  Dudley quickly became my Grandfather’s dog.  Maybe even as soon as the day after Christmas. I tolerate most dogs, I’ve even loved a few of them.  Cats, not so much.  The frequency at which they growl and hiss actually makes me jump out of my skin, and continue the climb up the wall. How a feline-phobic child became an adult with a fur-person is quite a story. In truth, I was terrified of cats until I was 13 and only tolerated some of them after that.  But if I didn’t get over my rational-to-me dislike of them, I could not have lived in my house. I had moved into a farmhouse on a hill attached to a working farm, complete with cows...

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100 Books or Bust: Heading For 50

Well. Dead Until Dark was the 45th book I’ve read this year.  Not my usual thing, but my brain was buzzing and needed down-time.  I had fun reading some choice lines aloud to Sarge, and finished it in a few hours. Here’s a list of all the books I’ve read so far this year.  If I finish all the books I’ve got going, I’ll break 50 soon.  However.  I probably won’t make it to 100 books read this year.  I could read a book a day from now until the end of the year, but I won’t.  I’m not giving up, just ‘managing exceptions’.  Maybe my own. I have a book to write, and a job to go to and adventures to have.  I’ll bring a book everywhere.  Maybe I’ll get to add 55 more titles to my 2011 list.  Maybe not.  But I’ve still read more than last year, and I’ve had fun.  There’s always next year.  And tomorrow. What are you reading these...

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Weekend Wanderings

My weekend begins on Friday, so we’ll start there. I woke up and asked Sarge to make me a coffee. I did so nicely. ‘Can’t (the PA) do it?’ ‘She doesn’t make coffee,’ I said. ‘She pours water into ugliness.’ ‘Fair enough’, he said, turning on the coffee machine. For the rest of the day I scribbled and read, scribbled some more and thought about organising my dresser-drawers. I opened them, and quickly shut them again. A story for another day, I thought. And then I chased the cat out of the bedroom not long before Sarge got home from work. ‘What should we do for dinner, be good or get take-away?’ ‘The diet starts Monday. I vote for curry.’ And forty-five minutes later, we had pakora and Futurama in front of us. Futurama is one of those shows I didn’t realise I liked until I watched a few episodes. Either that, or Sarge won the coin-toss many, many nights ago and now I’m the one who says, ‘Let’s watch Futurama!’ Ours may be the only household where ‘bite my shiny metal ass’ just means it’s time to turn on the television. Most of the time. On Saturday, we had salmon and eggs with soy sauce for brunch. Almost everything Sarge makes has soy sauce on it. Or in it. Or around it. I don’t complain because for one...

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Magic Coffee: Audience Participation

A few weeks ago, a friend sent me this photo and I thought I’d share it: This week, while shopping for my nearly oldest friend’s birthday gift (but I’m still older than she is), I found this and had to get it for myself: So, what made you smile this...

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My Island Diaries: Mull

Wherein I get fresh air and new perspectives, remember promises and maybe change my mind. Edinburgh – Glasgow, holiday o’clock. Sarge turns on all the lights in our bedroom to make sure I am actually awake. We have cupcakes for breakfast.  They are neither red nor velvet. I put on striped socks, a museum t-shirt and a Mom-made sweater. We take a taxi to the train station and get there with time to spare. This time I actually booked ramp assistance. Someone in a suit and tie sets the ramp between the train and the platform, and we are officially on holiday. The biker sitting next to us is reading his Kindle. My paper and ink book hides my curled lip. And I like bikers. Glasgow – Oban Our second train of the morning has facing seats, but we face no-one. We figure the people behind the names on the reservation slips have over-slept. Sarge reads about 20 pages of Blood Meridian while I finish When God Was a Rabbit. I cried into my ham sandwich. Oban – Mull We got our unreserved ferry tickets and joined the queue. Aside from a family with twins, we were the youngest travellers. We ramped onto the ferry and rolled into the bar for expensive coffee and on-tap lemonade with very little syrup in it. Sometime later I asked, ‘We moving?’ ‘We...

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