Through the Door

Photo courtesy of Magpie Tales

An old door with
Weathered wood and
Peeling paint
Aged and pitted
The lock
Cranky and stiff
Accepts the key and
Slowly opens
Beyond the walls
Lay hidden a garden
Long neglected and
Overgrown
But for a single
Yellow rose

Written for Magpie Tales #25

Monster in the Morning

Doesn't look like a monster, does he?

I have created a monster!  Not the slimy green, two-headed kind out of some sci-fi flick.  No, mine has four legs and long gray hair.  He is my little buddy, Rosie.  
Why is he suddenly a monster?  A little thing called canned cat food (and this is how it all began).  He started out asking for breakfast at 7 a.m.  Every morning, I  make not one, but three trips to the kitchen to feed him.  He must have his food in small portions, otherwise he just licks at it and pushes it around the dish until it's all mooshed up and gross.  

It gets worse.  His "breakfast time" keeps getting earlier and earlier, and his growing addiction to the stuff is driving us both crazy.  He will sit on my pillow, beg and whine into my ear, and then paw at me until I get up.  What began as a 7 a.m. breakfast, has moved to 6:00, then 5:30 and then 5:00.  This morning the clock said 4:50 when the call came.  When he is serious about eating, there is no putting him off and still sleep.  So mama drags her weary butt out of the bed and trudges to the kitchen, pulls out the food and starts the feeding process.  After the third serving, I close the bedroom door and hope he is sated for a couple hours while I catch a few more zzzz's.

How about now?

Rosie has a look that will turn you into Swiss cheese!  In other words, he'll stare holes in you until his needs are met.

So what's feeding time like at your house?

Quote of the Week

 


A good friend is a connection to life - a tie to the past, a road to the future, the key to sanity in a totally insane world.  
- Lois Wyse

At the Day Lily Farm

This picture was taken at a nearby vineyard where we were celebrating our friendship.  True friends are a beautiful part of life.

Frannie and Steve's Summer Vacation

Here are some bits of their conversation as they get ready for their long-awaited vacation.

Frannie:  I am so ready for this vacation - those lazy afternoons by the pool, cold drinks on the beach, and I can already feel the sand between my toes, so peaceful.  Have we forgotten anything?

Steve:  Let's see, two suitcases, your big bag of girly stuff, my shaving kit, a half dozen beach towels, his and hers flip flops and three kinds of sunscreen.  Um, two fishing rods, tackle, knife and cooler - check.

Photo courtesy of Magpie Tales

Frannie:  Laptop, camera, assorted techno gadgets - check.  Gotta have that-you never know where you'll find good blog material.  Did you pay the electric bill?
 
Steve:  You mean you'll have it for checking in with your blogging buddies, don't you?  And yeah, bills are paid.
Frannie:  Bobby's going to come every day to look after Skipper, right? 

Steve:  Uh huh, at $5 a day it's cheaper than the kennel, the kid gets some pocket money, and Skipper has some company.  Mail?  Newspaper?

Frannie:  All taken care of.  I went on-line and put a hold on the mail and the paper. The mail will be delivered the day we get back, and we'll get a paper the next morning.  Gotta love the internet.

So, what else?  Windows closed and locked, lights on timer, A/C set...oh, honey did you get beer?

Frannie:  Of course.  Like I'd forget...along with nuts, chips and dip and soda.  After all what's a vacation without a little junk food. 

Steve:  Let's load up the car.  Ewwww, is that garbage?

Frannie:  Oh, can't leave that here for a week. Can you take it out?  I think they're gonna pick up tomorrow because of the holiday.

Steve:  Done!  We're on our way, and tonight we'll be sampling shrimp and munching on mahi.

...Two hours later.

Frannie:  Uh oh, we forgot something.

Steve:  What?  Not the beer?

Frannie:  We forgot to make the bed.

Steve:  [sighs]

Check out more magpie tales here.

A Storm in the Night

Slowly into the night

Silently advancing

Unknown and undetected

Trembling now, but

Click to enlarge photo

Unrelenting

Nearly within reach

And poised to strike

It's approach is like

A zephyr

Gently caressing

Suddenly without warning

Power without measure

Gloriously unleashed

Pounds down upon the land

Her terrifying fury

Splashes the earth, then

As quickly as it came

Retreats slowly into the night

This was poem written quite some time ago, but I thought it matched the fierceness of the sky in this picture.  That light colored cloud was moving very fast.