Louie, Louie!

  
This big boy is the sweetest cat at Tallahassee Animal Services. His name is Louie and his paws are the size of dinner rolls.

Louie has been at TAS since 11/28/2015. He is FIV positive, but still has so much love to give. 

  
And if you’d prefer a female, Sigourney is super affectionate. She has been at TAS since the 8th of November.

 And then there’s Winston, a two month old kitten who melts everyone’s heart except for that of his brother, Blaze. 

Come find your best friend at Tallahassee Animal Services this weekend! Fees on all adoptions have been waived for this Saturday and Sunday for a special, May the Fur Be With You event.

   

Remember, don’t shop, ADOPT!

Peace, people!

Is There A Reason My Wife’s Posts Aren’t Showing Up In The Reader?

I believe the title says it all. Studly wants to know…. 

 

Golden

rain blessed monday
peace abounds
beads of golden autumn leaves
linked through and around
while squirrels scamper
acorns to bury
in preparation for Florida’s
winter fury.

Our cats, Patches and Scout, insisted that I join them outside on the screened in porch this afternoon. After a brief nap with Scout nestled on my lap and Patches in the chair beside me I began watching the gray squirrels zipping around and hiding nuts like there is no tomorrow. I hope they aren’t disappointed by our dearth of winter weather. Maybe I’ll invite the little darlings inside for hot cocoa.

The Daily Prompt: Out Foxing the Fox

Unexpected Guests–You walk into your home to find a couple you don’t know sitting in your living room eating a slice of cake. Tell us what happens next. (The Daily Prompt on The Daily Post)

  

Before the pair can register my arrival I slide quickly to the floor and roll behind the chaise longue. I knew this day would come, but I had hoped it would be many years down the road. Consciously I slow my heart rate and breaths per minute until I am barely more alive than the errant sock lying underneath the candle stand to my right.

“When did you say you expect your wife?” asks the male half of the duo.

“Any minute now,” my husband replies. “Unless she gets caught in traffic.” His voice betrays no hint of concern, but then why should it? Andrew has no idea of my true identity. 

“More cake?” he asks. “I baked this last night. From scratch.”

“It’s quite tasty,” comments the woman. “But no thank you.”

I hear plates and cutlery being placed on the coffee table.

“Could I trouble you for a glass of water?” she asks.

“But of course. Mr. Mulder, would you also like something to drink while we wait for Lana?”

I hear a muted “yes” and then Andrew’s familiar tread on his way to the kitchen.

“Do you think we have the right home?” the woman whispers.

“I’d bet money on it, Scully,” her partner says.

Andrew returns to the room with a hearty, “Here we go! How remiss of me not to include a beverage with the cake.”

The man asks in a strained voice, “How did you and your wife meet?”

“Oddly enough, we met at a Scifi convention,” chuckles Andrew. 

I hear a choking sound from one of our uninvited guests. 

“Why do you say ‘oddly enough’?” coughs the man named Mulder.

“Because Lana detests that stuff. Calls it nonsense. I’m the big fan. She was there doing research on the geeks who attend such affairs. Just my luck she found this geek attractive.”

“Of course,” Andrew continues conspiratorially, “You know she’s one of them. An alien. Just as you expected, Agent Mulder.”

The female, Scully, coughs loudly, a long painful sounding affair. Her partner follows suit. 

“Yes, it’s part of the reason I found her so fascinating at the convention. You see, I’m one, as well. My darling Lana, like myself, is a Mirbeesian, from the planet Mirbee 2, just a couple of light years from Earth.”

The coughing crescendoes to a shattering peak and then subsides to be replaced by a weighted silence before Andrew intones, “Lana, come out. You’re safe. The agents won’t bother you now.”

I emerge from my hiding spot to find Andrew grinning from ear to ear and the agents lying motionless on the floor.

“Andrew!” I cry, “What have you done?”

“Oh, they’re quite dead, my dear, but it had to be done if we’re to have any peace.”

“That’s awful, but I suppose you’re right. Andrew, you’ve never given any indication that you knew about me. And I certainly didn’t know that you were like me. How did you know?” I break down, crying at the enormity of it all.

Andrew takes me in his arms and strokes my hair. “My Lana, remember how I insisted on doing all of the cooking?”

“Yes,” I whimper, beginning to understand. 

“Had you been from Earth, my food would have had the same effect on you as it had on the agents here. I came to Earth specifically to find a mate so we can finally begin our infiltration.”

“How fortunate you found me on the first try.” I sigh.

“Who said you were the first try?”

And Just What Do YOU Do?

 
I saw this meme on Facebook today and had to giggle. For one thing, it’s the kind of offhand remark I’m inclined to make and then get embarrassed by. Often my mouth and my brain operate from completely different game plans.

But this meme also reminded me of a time during Parent/Teacher conferences back when I was teaching seventh grade. We taught in teams of four teachers: math, social studies, science, and English. And when conference time rolled around we met with parents as a team. 

I greatly enjoyed this team concept approach because we learned much more about our students and their parents than we might have otherwise. Sometimes we might have learned a bit too much.

We were chatting with one parent and one of my co-teachers kept saying, “I feel like I should know you. You look so familiar.”

Finally the parent said, “You must recognize me from work.”

“I’m sure that’s it,” replied the teacher. “Where do you work?”

“At the XXX Toy Box on Elm,” said the parent.

My good Christian co-worker went bright red and completely silent. We never let her live that down.

Peace, people!

Don’t Sing That Song

I cannot imagine their grief either. My heart breaks for them. And then I get really pissed off at our NRA bound lawmakers.

Jan Wilberg's avatarRed's Wrap

I woke up twenty times last night and each time I thought the same thought. Their mothers must still be shrieking. Shrieking and keening. Making sounds they never heard themselves make. That’s what the Sandy Hook mothers are doing, I know it. And then I’d fall back asleep only to wake again with the same thought. All night until the grey light of this rainy Saturday signaled time to get up, make coffee, and read the paper where the first paragraph of the article about the Sandy Hook School shootings was in extra large font, probably the same they used on 9/11. A picture of a man looking to the heavens only made me wonder about the murdered children’s moms.

Most women will tell you that there have been times in their lives when they hid in the shower to shriek and keen, to sob and cry out, and to…

View original post 298 more words

Santa Paws

The Santa Paws Walk is an annual event in Tallahassee, FL, bringing the best behaved, most beautifully groomed residents of our fair city together to celebrate the greatness that is Dog.

In its 20th year, Santa Paws attracts dozens of well-heeled canines and their doting owners for fun competitions: Sweetest Face, Most Spots, Most Elf-like, etc. I tried to enter the Sweetest Face category, but apparently only the actual dogs are eligible. I couldn’t have won anyway. 

What a face! There’s no way I’d have won in any category.
  

  

The eyes have it.

  
A sweet angel patiently waiting on her next command.
  
This Sleeping Beauty found a spot in the sun and tuned all the noise out.

  
Good people offering information and resources.
  
These little ones really liked me. Studly said, “no!” Of course I might’ve called him in mid-putt….
  

Corgis crack me up.

  

One of the many vendors present. These folks make house calls!
  
Hey Human!
  
Stately Irish Wolfhound
  

Beautiful family with their three rescue dogs.

Yes, I’m cute.
  
All these trees and Im posing for a picture.

  
I can’t believe I let Mom drag me down here.

  
If I don’t win sweetest face I’m requesting a recount.

  
  
Making friends.

I was so impressed with how well-behaved every dog was at this event. Even with all of the distractions and temptations the four-legged participants were amazingly placid.   

Let It Snow (Somewhere Else) 

I love snow in theory. Newly fallen snow is indescribably lovely, draping the world in peaceful beauty. Even day two can be nice if one doesn’t have to scrape snow and ice off of car windows or shovel the heavy stuff off of sidewalks and driveways. By day three, though, the majesty has worn off. 

Studly Doright, our two children, and I lived in North Dakota for three years and had quite enough of the frozen precipitation. Snow would begin falling around October 31, and didn’t stop until late March. Sometimes snow was still on the ground in April and May. Brrrrr! 

Now that Studly and I live in north Florida I occasionally find myself romanticizing the idea of snow. Not enough that I want to actually experience it in person, mind you, but I miss being able to watch it fall softly from the comfort of my home.

Fortunately I can find it on the Internet. 

Dean Martin sings Let It Snow and I melt. Ironic, right? (There’s a brief commercial at the beginning…)

https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=mN7LW0Y00kE#

 

Peace, people!

Out for Repairs

I’ve certainly been guilty of trying to “fix” people. Great piece at redswrap.wordpress.com.

Jan Wilberg's avatarRed's Wrap

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My worst quality is thinking I should fix people who haven’t asked for repair.

When my children were children, my fixing fixation was in full gear. They had issues, to be sure, but fewer than I detected.

The trap of making one’s children into symptoms in search of a disease is a tricky one. On the one hand, a good mother doesn’t want to miss anything that needs tending to. On the other, being on the receiving end of someone’s fixing, no matter how well-intentioned, can be crippling. It takes only minutes to turn the fixing inside out: I need fixing, therefore, I am a mess.

I’ve tried fixing a few friends. So often solutions to a friend’s problems seem so obvious and available like beautiful plump cherries landing on the table, their green leaves still attached. Here, I’d say, just take this wonderful cherry. It’s just laying here for…

View original post 289 more words

Glimpse

she saw him stopped at a red light
dull green army jacket over a

white t-shirt with AC/DC emblazoned
boldly across his thin chest.

she can only imagine the list of
tour dates on the back.

this isn’t her boy
she knows that,

but the glimpse is enough to bring
a smile to her eyes and

the taste of salt on her lips
memory’s gentle nudge.

better, she knows, to have
spent this life with another

carry on Angus
rock on Bon

Bon Scott

This poem was inspired by photographer/graphic designer, Julie Powell, whose blog I follow on WordPress. Check out her work and insights at https://juliepowell2014.wordpress.com/