The home adjacent to Doright Manor in the beautiful Lake Yvette neighborhood about eight miles west of Tallahassee is on the market. It’s a lovely place with real southern charm, so I thought I’d give it a little publicity.
Sandy, the owner, takes excellent care of this home, meticulously maintaining its spacious yard. I always gave her a hard time about making me look lazy. Granted, that’s not that difficult.
I love the little gazebo feature on the west side of the property. It makes me want to put on a floral chiffon dress and white gloves for afternoon tea.
I didn’t want to trespass, so I didn’t venture into the backyard, but the home sits just off a finger of Lake Yvette.
Pictured above are some of the vibrant flowers that adorn this property.
Sandy really thought she’d retire out here, but circumstances beyond her control necessitated a move into Tallahassee. It’s a terrific place for a retired couple.
Studly Doright and I are great neighbors. We don’t throw wild parties, and we don’t have any barking dogs. Plus, we’re fairly amusing, and we have a dock.
And words form the vessel by which we traverse centuries, the river stitched across the valley’s floor, easing access.
Accession by choice. Inorganic memory.
Vellum conveys its origin: of a calf.
How like an entrance it appears, a doorway to a lighted space. Closed, it resembles a block of beech wood.
To serve as conveyance, to impart without reciprocity.
Framing the conversation in space, immediacy fades.
The average calfskin may provide three and a half sheets of writing material. Confined by spatial limitation, we consider scale in terms of the absolute.
The antithesis of scroll; random entry; codex.
A quaternion equalled four folded sheets, or eight leaves: sixteen sides.
Reader and read: each endures the other’s role. Pippins prevented tearing during the drying and scraping process.
Cake, the tiny kitten I helped rescue from a Tallahassee storm drain, wasn’t in the feral hold room at Tallahassee Animal Services when I checked in for my volunteer stint yesterday afternoon. I have to admit my heart was sinking as I pondered the possibilities.
She was so small and weak, and having lived in a storm drain her entire three or four weeks of life, might have contracted a disease.
I couldn’t locate a veterinarian right away, so I hurried back to the cat kennels to assist potential adopters and to take care of the resident cats, but Cake was very much on my mind.
I couldn’t help but notice that there are a couple of adult cats who have been at TAS since I started volunteering there almost two months ago:
Nancy is a sweetheart. She’s calm and gentle and would be a terrific family pet. The staff estimates her age at 7 years, making her eligible for the reduced senior adoption fee.
Nancy–notice her Harry Potter-ish lightning bolt.
Another handsome adult cat is Goldie. He loves attention and is a playful guy. Goldie is only one year old, but he’s a big boy who needs a home to run around in for exercise! Goldie is an attention getter.
After I’d had an opportunity to do some actual work I went in search of a vet. Fortunately I soon came across a young man who’s been really helpful in the past and asked him if he’d seen the little mostly black kitten that had been brought in on Tuesday, and if so did he know its fate.
To my immense relief he said that the kitten checked out and was in surprisingly good shape considering her shaky start in life. He said she was now at the Humane Society where she’d be available to adopt as soon as she gained some weight.
I might’ve blubbered something like, “thank you, thank you!” before heading back to the kennels.
Remember folks, adopt, don’t shop! There are so many adoptable pets who would welcome the chance to join your family.
Hi, my name is Rommy and I am a guest blogger here on sanseilife.
Although I am no longer in this world my mom thinks about me a lot and I try to send her memories to remind her about the great life we had together.
I reminded mom about a friend I made one day. Laura was in a wheelchair and was very sad. I went right up for her so that she could pet me.
She told my mom that she was amazed that I was not afraid of her or her wheelchair.
Mom and I would occasionally go on outings with Laura. She knew all the friendly people and cool places that didn’t mind me coming in their stores.
One day we were in a favorite store and about five people talked to Laura and asked her about her dog friend. She was the happiest I had ever seen her. Suddenly animated…
I’m suffering from a bad hair week. My stylist and I couldn’t get our respective schedules to work out, so I’m at least seven days overdue for cut and color. It’s not a pretty situation. And it gets worse. She can’t get me in until the 14th of October. By that time I’ll look like Jeff Daniels’ character in Dumb and Dumber:
There’s not a lot I can do about my situation. My hair is too short to pull back in a ponytail, and it’s too long to style as usual. I look awful in hats. What’s a girl to do?
Oh! I know! I’ll find photos of other people experiencing bad hair situations and post them here.
I might know this chick.
Hair my cry!Dude! Pink is NOT your color!
The dreaded double mustache. Layered look redefined.
Sweet rescue kitten Cake and I drove across Tallahassee this morning to find her a safe haven. First we headed to the Humane Society where Cake was a big hit and everyone had to come oooh and ahhhh over her.
Because she was feral and so tiny they recommended I take her to Tallahassee Animal Services to be checked over. If they couldn’t keep her there the Humane Society would pick her up this afternoon after the veterinary staff at TAS had a look at her.
My hope is that since TAS doesn’t have many kittens at this time that they’ll keep her in spite of her age. They normally don’t take in lone animals less than six weeks of age, and Cake appears to be between three and four weeks old. If TAS keeps her I can check up on her when I volunteer tomorrow afternoon.
I left Cake with the blanket she’d been swaddled in as well as with a fuzzy toy she had cuddled with through the night. Her bright little eyes watched me with great interest as I kissed her goodbye. I should have called her Heartbreaker instead of Cake. Dammit.
Tiny kitten Cake, who was rescued yesterday from a Tallahassee storm drain, is doing well this morning. Through the night I checked on her and made sure she had been drinking her kitten formula, but at some point the little stinker found the strength to jump out of the box to go exploring her wider surroundings–our garage.
Of course my first thought was that she might’ve climbed into one of the wheel wells of my car, but no Cake. I searched under Studly Doright’s car. No Cake. When Studly joined the search we found her cowering between a set of spare golf clubs and our long unused exercise bike.
She was pretty weak, so I held her and fed her a bit of sugar water from a dropper before giving her the kitten formula. After that Cake perked up and she mewed for the first time before settling into my lap for a purring nap.
I asked Studly before he left for work what we should do if she’s too young for the shelter to take her in. The old softie said, “She might have to come back here until she’s old enough.”
I’ve chronicled my struggle with loneliness in the past, as well as my futile attempts to make friends in the Tallahassee area. It’s not that the people here aren’t welcoming. They are very much so. It’s been more a matter of circumstances and scheduling.
In my quest to stay busy and to keep myself out there I’ve become quite fond of our local Sephora store at Governor’s Square Mall. The young people who work there are so accommodating and friendly. Yes, they want to sell me beauty products, but they go about it so nicely.
Take Eddie, for example. The young man knows his stuff. This afternoon he treated me to a facial and even suggested a lower cost way to achieve the same results as the $66.00 product he used to make my skin glow. End result–I spent money on another product and left knowing I’d return soon for more goodies.
Never underestimate the power of kindness. Or good customer service.
I was out and about enjoying my birthday, shopping and using my birthday coupons–Chico’s, Ulta, Sephora–all the good places, when I came across a young woman looking as though she’d fallen on the sidewalk. I hurried over to see if she needed help. She did, but not the kind I’d imagined.
She was on her stomach peering over the edge of the sidewalk and risking decapitation every time a car sped by because she’d found a tiny kitten venturing into traffic, and subsequently discovered its siblings living in a storm drain.
Alex
Other passerby stopped to help. We rounded up a large box from Bed, Bath, & Beyond and a blanket from my car. I walked over to PetSmart and got some kitten milk and a bowl. The brave little kitten came to us immediately, and we put him in the box, but the other four were cowering as far away as possible.
One member of our group called the animal shelter. They promised to dispatch an animal control officer, but said it might take awhile. I assured everyone that I’d stay until someone came to pick up our little guy, and that if no one showed up I’d take him home for the night.
Reluctantly everyone went their separate ways, having classes or jobs awaiting them, and I was left babysitting the kitten in the box and watching for one of the others to make an appearance.
A number of folks stopped to visit and to coo at the kitten, who by this time I’d dubbed Alex. I figured that would work for either a boy or a girl. But after an hour, no one from the shelter came to our aid.
I was just about to pack Alex into my car when a young woman came down my way and fell in love with Alex. She wanted him/her, but had to get her brother’s approval. After a quick call to him and an ok, she prepared to take Alex home–on the bus! I squelched that pretty quickly and told her I’d give her a ride home. I was relieved that I wouldn’t need to care for a kitten.
However, while we were standing there gathering up Alex and his meager possessions someone (yes, me) kicked the kitten milk over and another of the tiny kittens was lapping it up and inching our way. So intent was this little one on the trail of milk that I scooped him up and had him in the box before he could even mew. Yep, it looked like I was going to have an overnight guest after all.
This one appears to be the runt of the litter. She’s completely black and so hungry. I’ve got her snuggled down in the box with a blanket and kitten milk. I am not keeping her, but since I found her on my birthday, I’m naming her Cake.
Cake
Please wish us success tonight. She is very weak.
Praying for Eyebrowz 