Alphabet With A Twist- Letter K

Cee’s Fun Foto Challenge: Letter K – Needs to have the letter K anywhere in the word

I’m jumping into this photo challenge mid alphabet because it’s November and if I’m going to post everyday this November (it’s a thing, an Nano Poblano thing) I’m going to need some inspiration.

Letter K…

An unlikely key stuck in a creaky keyhole by a kooky kid!

Be The Person Your Cat Thinks You Are

I saw a sign today that said “Be the person your cat thinks you are.”

We have three cats that live in our house so I feel as though I can say, with some authority, that this is a terrible idea.

You might suspect the cats think I am their jailer (they are indoor cats) and, since I hold them hostage, I am also obligated to clean up after them, feed them and provide them with a safe environment to live in.

This is not the kind of person I’ve ever endeavored to be. Fortunately, I don’t think it’s how my cats see me either. Unfortunately, if you polled the cats I’m pretty sure you would find they actually think they are the warring queens of the household where they deign to live because, with nothing more than a swish of their tail and a well timed purr, me, their royal slave, will provide them with all their needs.

This includes (but is not limited to) meals with not only their own food but other choice tidbits as well (Translation: I feed them and they steal people food whenever the chance arises). Royal slaves are, as a matter of course, also expected to keep the castle clean enough or the queens will show their displeasure in a royal tantrum (Translation: If I don’t keep the litter boxes clean they’ll use my closet). All the catty queens must surely be treated as such and will only sleep in the warmest coziest areas (Translation: If there is no sunbeam on my bed on a cold day they’ll sleep on the computer’s keyboard and with a few well placed paws lock things up so it’ll take me three days to fix it). Finally it goes without saying that an out right order from slave to queen is out of the question and even a mild suggestion as to behavior is likely to be met with utter disdain (Translation: I have never managed to teach a cat manners).

I really, don’t ever, want to actively try to be the person my cats think I am and despite the sign urging me to do so, I can’t imagine why anyone else would want to either. My only conclusion is that cats are behind the creation of these signs in their never ending quest to take over the world.

But…

I’m going to let this girl under the covers to snuggle with me tonight when she comes asking…

…their plan is totally working.

 

The Little Story

Once upon a time there was a little story.

After all it’s words were written just right and all it’s pictures were drawn just so, it went away to get turned into a real book. The little story was so excited to be turned into a real book so that she could go out into the world and talk to children everywhere.

But then…

She got lost in a dark scary place.

The little story wandered around for many days in the dark before someone found her and gave her a nice little green flashlight. Then she took her little flashlight and took a big breath and searched and searched until she found her way out of the dark scary place. The little story looked at herself when she got back out into the bright world and saw that, though she had been in the dark scary place for a long time it had turned her into a real book!

Then that real book looked around until she found a group of children and she told her tale, the one with the words written just right and the pictures drawn just so, and everyone was happy.

The end.

In highly related news our book is not yet on Amazon… it should be… now… last week…any moment… just waiting… waiting on Amazon… and waiting… any moment… annnnyyy moment… 

Some Years Are Not For Gardening.

Some years are not for gardening.

This year my extended family needed me. My grandpa’s failing health has had me away from home all the days I can spare, and some that I probably could not. But given the choice of helping out family or digging in the dirt I turned my back on my gardens and left.

Not to say that I never touched a plant, I did pull a few weeds from the flower bed in front of the house every now and then.   I put six tomato plants in the ground, rather late, and ignored the rest of the perennial flower beds around the house.

The ignored beds did what patches of growing things do best. They grew. They grew many beautiful flowers, and at least two bouquets made it to our table. Had I taken the time to harvest them I would have had a bumper crop of weeds of all kinds. There are now even some small trees poking up between the lilies. The rose bed outside the backdoor was the most impressive of the ignored patches. A thick plot of extra prickly roses I’ve never really liked grew wild until, even when I had a chance, the thought of wading into the thorns was daunting enough I moved on to other jobs that clamored for attention and promised less blood loss. The bindweed covered those roses like a blanket and I gave it a secret wink, I really don’t like those roses… Then, late in the summer a vine started growing.. and growing… and only the lawnmower kept it confined to the “garden” it came from. The rosebushes now devoid of their sickly sweet scented flowers disappeared completely. For a while the vine produced unfamiliar white flowers that I admired and wondered at as I slammed in and out of the back door on my way to take care of the poultry in the orchard or let the never ending stream of dogs in and out.

These last weeks I’ve been away from the house every other day and I’ve given up on the gardens entirely. Spring will come again with it’s promise of new beginnings and fresh growth.  And I’ll wade through the mess of them then, happy to be outside. But now it’s fall and winter and freezing weather is fast approaching. Now I fly past the gardens to mow the orchard one last time, prepare the chicken house for winter and drain water lines.

Last night was the first frost of the year.

It was a light frost, many things were hardly touched, but the vine by the back door was blacked and withered by the end of the day. This evening, when letting the dogs out I glanced down in my neglected garden and saw it…

… I don’t know where the seeds came from, or what it’s supposed to be but this 15 pound gourd grew just 8 inches from the back door. Covered and hidden until now, it was a surprise that made us laugh out loud when we saw what we missed. And it was a reminder that life goes on even if we aren’t watching.  My gardens will still be there in the spring and maybe they’ll have more surprises in store for me once I take the time to look again.

This is a story of my garden, and the things seen and unseen. But while missing the growing life outside my backdoor I’ve been living it at my childhood home. Helping my parents run the property, laughing over crosswords with my Granny and telling Grandpa about it all. Life goes on, even if we aren’t watching. All we have to do is decide where to look.