Freak Out

A succession of banana spiders has spun webs on one corner of Doright Manor for the past few months. We’ve watched as the web grew and evolved as each patient female passed on her creation to the next in line.

I believe we were on the fourth in the lineage, and the once meager web now stretched from one side of the driveway to the other. Truly, it was a work of art. Until it wasn’t. Until I somehow forgot about the freaking web and walked right through it this morning.

Imagine me, engrossed in reading a bit of mail I’d retrieved from the mailbox, blithely strolling from the porch to the garage when the unmistakable sticky filaments plastered against my face, my hair, my glasses, my arms. I screamed and launched into the Oh Hell No dance hoping to shake loose the mama arachnid who might be about to deliver her painful bite at any moment. I think I was successful, but two hours post-encounter I still imagine she’s lurking nearby.

Not one of ours, but this is what a banana spider looks like. Beautiful, but their bites are extremely painful.

Worst of all I feel horrible about destroying her web. Hoping she won’t seek revenge.

Peace, people!

The Cat Wants What the Cat Wants

Routine is everything to our cat, Gracie.

She wakes Studly Doright up at five every morning and makes him carry her to the kitchen for a treat.

After he leaves for work, she snuggles with me and insists I get up at six. While I shower, Gracie watches me from her ringside seat on the side of bathtub. She presides over my morning routine, ensuring that I take my vitamins, and calcium, and allergy meds, and well, you get the idea.

The day proceeds with Gracie allotting time for feeding, naps, and play when she’s not actively supervising my work. In the evening she lets us know it’s time to stretch out on one of the chairs on the screened-in porch by pawing at the patio door.

Bedtime routine with Gracie is reminiscent of my days of tucking in a toddler. She gets a bowl of her favorite wet food, a bit of playtime, then we snuggle into our bed. But Gracie isn’t ready to sleep.

She’ll jump off the bed in dramatic fashion and rush down the hallway to the kitchen. Soon she’ll come back toting a bag of treats in her mouth. If she can’t get to the cat treats, she’ll bring a bag of people food—nuts, trail mix—whatever comes closest to resembling her treats, so the gist of her message is clear—one last snack, please.

Once she gets what she wants Gracie disappears into one of the guest bedrooms for the night only reappearing in our room when it’s time to wake Studly up for work. And the routine begins again,

I wish Gracie had been around during the years I taught. I could’ve used a good scheduler.

Peace, people.

Awareness Issues: Who’s Clueless Now?

I’m not known for my mindfulness. Frequently I walk into doors, trip over lines in the floor, and manage to poke myself in the eye while applying makeup. I once nearly caught the house on fire by accidentally dropping a load of clean laundry on top of a burning candle. If not for the unique scent of burning elastic, I’d likely be living somewhere other than Doright Manor. And those were my favorite panties. 😢

Studly Doright, on the other hand, prides himself on his observational abilities. And I have to admit that he notices stuff other males often don’t—new haircuts, new eyeglass frames, anything new I happen to have purchased hoping he wouldn’t notice. That old line “This old dress? I’ve had it for ages!” never works on him.

Very rarely will he be out of the loop when something changes in his domain. But when he slips, I’m there to take note.

Just a couple of days ago I heard him say, “Hey, you finally hung the grandkids’ senior pictures!”

“Yes, honey, they’ve been up in the same location for two months now.”

“Really?”

“Yep. A couple of feet from the door you walk through multiple times every single day. Now who has awareness issues?”

Then he reminded me of that time when I didn’t realize he’d shaved off his beard until he’d been clean shaven for a month. In my defense, it never was much of a beard.

And the time I got into the driver’s seat of a complete stranger’s car and wondered why my key wouldn’t fit into the ignition.

And also the time I had a conversation with my own reflection in a mirror. I was a bit drunk, but still…

I guess I remain the clueless one. How could he not notice these stunning young people though? Boggles the mind. Has anyone seen my phone? Oh, right, I’m using it to blog.

Garrett and Dominique

Peace, people?

Fasten Your Seatbelts

Studly Doright and I decided to get away for a couple of days. Our anniversary is on the 30th, so it seemed a good way to celebrate 45 years of marriage. I was going to say “wedded bliss” but that count is only around 20 years. I jest. Mostly.

We left Doright Manor under sunny skies, but about an hour from our destination we ran into a torrential rainstorm complete with lightning and thunder. Visibility was down to about fifteen feet and I had a firm hold on what we lovingly call the “oh shit” handle.

Not even the worst part of the storm…

We’re headed to Jacksonville where we have reservations at the Margaritaville Resort on Jacksonville Beach. Hoping the storm isn’t a harbinger of what’s to come. Of course Studly is sick of hearing me sing “Stormy Weather,” so he might just pull over and kick me out. If you see me hitchhiking on Interstate 10 west of Jacksonville, throw me a towel, please.

Peace, people!

Travel Day

I’m on the road today, traveling to be with friends whose son died unexpectedly this week. I left Doright Manor yesterday and should arrive at my destination in Oklahoma early this afternoon.

There was no time for stopping except for necessary stuff (gas, potty breaks, food) yesterday, but at one of those necessary stops I was delayed leaving by a mother hen and her chicks.

One little chick was under my car, while others were scurrying across the parking lot, but mama gathered all of her babies together and headed for safety. Because that’s what mamas do.

Peace, people.

Half a Cat: A Furry Tail

Gracie is upset that I won’t allow her to go outside on the screened-in porch this afternoon. It’s an 80° day and the sun is shining, but there’s a breeze blowing the pollen around, and my allergies just can handle it.

So Gracie is making do with the next best thing.

That tail starts flicking about now and again leading me to believe there might be a lizard teasing the cat from outside the window. This cat leads a really tough life.

Peace, people!

Love Your Pet Day

Apparently February 19 is the official Love Your Pet Day. Who knew? Here at Doright Manor, every day is Love Your Pet Day. Our Gracie can attest to that.

I’M not tired of playing. YOU’RE tired of playing.
That “come hither” look.
Our own children didn’t have as many toys as Gracie does.
Helping Studly Doright is her favorite activity.

She’s been such a balm to our hearts after the death of our beloved Scout kitty. I was so afraid we’d adopted her too soon after losing Scout, but Gracie had filled a hole in our lives, and we love her so much.

Peace, and love your pets, people.

Haute Couture for the Down and Out

I’m at that stage in life where comfort overrides style every single time. Having said that, I do have a pair of shoes that make a statement, and I wear them almost daily.

The green tile beneath these classy shoes is slippery as ice when wet, and cool even during summer months. So I wanted something with a little grip and lots of warmth to wear around Doright Manor. Of course I bought them from Walmart. They only cost $4.99, and after a couple of wearings the right foot had a blowout. And I love it!

Is it a pimple popping out? A tongue? I’m not certain, but I’m positive you won’t find another pair exactly like them. And that’s how haute couture works.

Peace, people!

The View from My Window

February 12, 2021.

This is my backyard here at Doright Manor. Today the temps were in the mid-70’s, and while rain is in the forecast through next Tuesday, we’re enjoying the gift of pleasant weather today. I know we’re very lucky right now.

Wherever you are, I hope you’re warm and dry. Maybe you’ll have a cup of hot chocolate, or a bowl of stew. At bedtime you might enjoy a hot toddy. Heck, now I’m almost in the mood for winter weather. Almost.

Peace, people!

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