Deliver me from stray cats.....

I know I've said that before.... but we keep finding stray cats. Or rather, they keep finding us.  I guess when you have cats, any and all stray cats will gravitate to your property, your porch, your house... looking to make friends with your own cats, and possibly share food and sleeping arrangements.

We've been seeing a stray cat hanging around from time to time all summer long.... I don't even know if it's a male or a female..... it never does get very close, and only this week has it stayed on the porch when I'm out there. Usually, he/she was just running off very quickly as soon as he saw me. 

Last night, our outside cat Gatsby decided he'd had enough with the stray cat, and at three o'clock in the morning, my husband and I both woke up when we heard the cats fighting on our porch. My husband went to the back door, I went to the front..... and there were the two cats, eyes locked, noses nearly touching, and howling at each other, with spatters of blood on the porch.

When I opened up the door, thinking Gatsby would run inside like he usually does, both cats took off running around the porch and I heard them running down the steps. Both my husband and I were calling for Gatsby, but he wasn't listening.  He was just determined to chase that stray cat away once and for all.  We went back to bed......... Gatsby stayed outside.

This morning, there was Gatsby, with his nose to the screen door of the kitchen.  A little scratch on the top of his head, but that was about it.  He ate his breakfast and then went to sleep in his chair on the back porch and that's about all he did today-- sleep.  Which isn't all that unusual for The Gray Gatsby anyway.

Tonight after dinner, Gatsby was still on the back porch.... and so was the stray.  Gatsby was calmly and quietly watching the stray cat eat the dry food from the cat dish.  The stray looked at Gatsby, and Gatsby looked at the stray. No howling, no fuss, no locked eyes and no noses touching.  Best of friends now after last night's tussle?  I have no idea.  But I don't intend to be hearing a cat fight at three o'clock in the morning again.  I've already brought Gatsby into the house for the night, and I'm hoping he'll want to stay inside tonight.

We'll have to make friends with that stray cat.... and then I'll have to get him into a cat-carrier, and bring him to the shelter.  Which we've done with other stray cats from time to time.  We can't keep them all.  Gatsby was the first stray that we found outside, the summer after we moved here.  Then two years later, another stray found his way into our barn, and he was so pretty and so sweet... we named him Sweet Pea and he's more puppy-like than cat-like. Follows us all over... always wants to be in my lap, and will sit still for as long as my husband wants to scratch him under his chin. Very sweet and loving cat..... but when we kept Sweet Pea, we promised he was definitely the last stray cat that would be a 'keeper.'  We've kept our word.

Stray cats, however, have not stayed away...... we've had a few that we've taken to the shelter..... others that Gatsby has fought with and they ran away and kept on running and we've never seen them again.  We've also brought four stray dogs to the shelter....... we think that people abandoned them on our country road, hoping that someone else would adopt them, or probably not even caring if someone adopted them at all.  The people at the shelter know us... and we keep telling them the same thing: We just can't keep them all.

In a perfect world, everyone would spay or neuter their pets.... and they wouldn't take in dogs and cats if they had no intention of keeping them.... and they wouldn't just abandon their pets on country roads in the hills.  Is that too blessed much to ask?

Halloween Tricks and Treats in September.....

If you weren't aware that the current month is September, you would swear that Halloween is just days away.  The shops in town are filled with witches and pumpkins and black cats and ghosts, and bales of hay and scarecrows are popping up all over the sidewalk outside most of the stores.          

Last year, the town had a scarecrow contest..... the best-dressed or most creative scarecrow got a prize of some sort..... and these scarecrow creations were in front of nearly all the shops.  My favorite display was in front of one of the many antique shops in town..... two scarecrow ladies, dressed up in hats and gloves, pearls and glasses, having a tea party for two right on the sidewalk in front of the shop. So cute..... those straw ladies just made you smile every time you walked by.

This entire town, no matter where you are, could be dropped back in the 1950s and it wouldn't be out of place at all.  When you go to the bank, as soon as you drive into the parking lot, you can hear American Bandstand-style music coming from the speakers..... not too loud, nothing obnoxious, just very quiet and quaint and nostalgic.  The people in the shops are so friendly, and if you've been into their shop more than once, then they either recognize your face or know your name and you're part of the family.

I went into one of the thrift stores today (always on the look-out for vintage Halloween decorations) and one of the ladies there had a unique fabric purse slung around her neck and shoulder.  I told her that it looked like a little Indian papoose and she showed me what was inside--- a tiny teacup Yorkie puppy that she just adopted.  So tiny.... and so terribly beautifully cute.  Her name is Lucy, and B has already bought her a teeny costume to wear for Halloween. 

Honestly, between Taco Bella down the road (J's off-the-charts cute Chihuahua) and now B's little Lucy, I have to positively control my mind to not want to get a dog, or a puppy, or anything with four little paws that barks and needs to be walked and brushed and trained and fed and loved.  "We don't need to be tied down with a dog now......"   So sayeth my husband, the dog-voice of reason.  And he has got to be the voice of reason on this issue because I just go out of my mind over every little dog that I see.

Now where was I....... looking for Halloween decorations in this sleepy little town that dropped out of the 1950s sky and landed in the Hill Country of Texas..............  One can never have enough puppies.... Pumpkins!  I meant to say pumpkins..... One can never have too many pumpkins.........

Blog this way.......

As if I don't have enough to write about here, I've started two new blogs, with an idea for a third that I haven't begun yet.  The way to find the links to the new blogs is to click on the 'View Complete Profile' line on this page, and that profile page will list all the blogs.

One of the new blogs is "Country Life.... City Wife."  Note the 4 little dots, which distinguishes it from other blogs with similar titles. It seems, wonder of wonders, that I'm not the only city-girl that has been taken hostage by a peaceful country property with an adult-sized Victorian doll-house sitting in the middle of it.  I'm trying to scribble something in that blog every day, to remind myself of why we moved here in the first place.... to catalog both the joys and trials of country living.... and to also remember that I still have high heels in my closet even though they don't often see the light of day out here.

The other blog is "Popcorn Whispers and Rose Petals."  This blog is for short stories.... some will be blessedly true to life, others will be the ramblings of my imagination.  Quite possibly, there will be some stories that will be a mixture of both.  Short stories...... in my high school yearbook, my favorite teacher of all time (Mr. W. St. Hill) wrote:  "Best wishes to L, the short story writer."  One of my stories had been published in the school's literary magazine during my senior year, and he was so proud of that.  Such a perfect teacher he was..... he never had to command respect in front of his classroom because we all gave it to him gladly, for the simple reason that he respected all of us.   So, Mr. St. Hill.... if you're out there somewhere, I hope you like these stories..... and I do apologize for never getting out of the habit with 'those dots....."

My dear friend Fran was the one who got me started on blogging. Fran discovered the blog-spot and started to read some of the more interesting ones.  Fran knew that I loved to write, and she thought having a blog would be such a good outlet for me.  Not only was it an outlet, it proved to be the perfect release.... all those words and paragraphs swimming around in my head all day long...... they just had to go somewhere, and this was the perfect solution.

Fran used to read my blogs every day.... and she would either leave comments or send me an eMail about them. I miss her terribly..... she passed away two years ago and I think of her every day, every day.  I would like to believe that she's still able to read my blogs, and I hope she still likes them. I also hope Fran knows that I've been sending her granddaughter books and books and more books. Fran's wish was that her grandbaby would develop a love for language and books.  Fran passed away just two weeks before the birth of her grandchild.  Sometimes things happen that are very strange, and very sad.

Savannah's Bird Girl Comes Home.

I fell in love with the city of Savannah when I read John Berendt's "Midnight In the Garden of Good and Evil." Such a good, good book.... you felt as if you were walking around Savannah as you were reading.  The book was so good that I told my husband we needed to add Savannah to our must-see list of cities.

We've been to Savannah twice now since "Midnight...." was published, and my husband has also read the book.  The first time we went to that beautiful city years ago, I carried my copy of "Midnight" with me just in case we saw any of the book's characters (it's a true story, if you're not familiar with it).  Luck was with us that first trip to Savannah, and we did indeed meet Sonny Seiler, the trial lawyer in the story (Sonny also played the judge when Clint Eastwood made the movie based on "Midnight.")  I asked other interesting people in Savannah to sign my copy of "The Book" (as it's known in that city)... people who weren't famous, just famously interesting. They didn't seem surprised to have been asked to sign The Book, so I'm sure I wasn't the first visitor to make that request.

This past summer, we went back to Savannah... and once again I had "The Book" with me, and I read it again before our trip.  We didn't visit Mr. Seiler again..... and I never did get to see Minerva walking around the squares--- I'm sure we saw her during our first trip, but before we could follow her, she had disappeared into one of the stores.  Savannah would be my go-to place if we ever had to leave the state of Texas.  There's some sort of magic in that city..... it captures you as soon as you start walking in the squares.  And the magic stays with you, long after you've returned home. ("Just ask Minerva," as Sonny Seiler wrote in my copy of The Book.)

My husband came home today with a surprise in the trunk of his car....... a replica of Savannah's Bird Girl statue. The original statue was made for a family's grave-site in Bonaventure Cemetery in Savannah. After The Book became so famous (the statue was on the cover), scores of tourists and book-lovers were flocking to the cemetery to see and touch and photograph that statue.  So much so that the family decided to have the statue moved out of the cemetery..... there was that much traffic in and out of Bonaventure just because of that statue.  The original Bird Girl now stands quietly in Savannah's city museum.

I didn't know my husband had bought the Bird Girl today when he went out this morning..... and my eyes puddled up with tears when I saw her.  She's standing now out in the garden..... looking down the road, hopefully in the direction of Savannah, but I'm not sure.... and it doesn't really matter because where she is now is where she's going to stay because it's just the perfect place.  I can see the Bird Girl from the kitchen windows, from my sitting room windows, and (best of all) from the library windows. Life is good.

Life is full of surprises. Nice ones.  It may be time to read "Midnight In the Garden..." again.

Boo, y'all........

The house is all decorated for Halloween..... out came the black cats and pumpkins, the witches and ghosts... all things happy. No scary-faced skeletons and vampires in this house.... the black cats are smiling, the witches aren't the least bit wicked, and the pumpkins have happy faces. Even the ghosts are more ethereal than edgy.

I don't know exactly when Halloween became so grotesque, but I don't remember so much of that when I was a kid. About the worst that could happen to you on Halloween in the 1950s was for a kid to pop out of the bushes in front of someone's house and yell "Boo!!!!"  And you screamed for a second or two, then laughed........ and it was all over.  Halloween should be filled with fun, not nightmares. But that's just me.... and I'm sure that most people don't agree.

The shops in town here are all Halloween-ed out already...... next to Christmas in Texas, I think Halloween is one of the biggest holidays for decorating.  When we lived in Clear Lake, I would also decorate the outside of the house as well, putting pumpkins on the heads of lawn statues, and an orange and gold mask on a green Buddha statue that was on our front porch.  Our next door neighbor V would string up spider webs all over her front porch, with huge black spiders hanging from the webs. But out here... with all the scorpions and wasps that we have....... outdoor decorations just don't stand a chance. As it was, when I unwrapped the paper honey-comb pumpkins that I had outside last year for the night of our Halloween party, there were three perfectly preserved and flattened wasps that fell out of the honey-combed paper. Needless to say, I won't be doing that again. All the decorations now stay inside the house, no exceptions.  The inside of this house looks like an explosion of Halloween.... the outside barely whispers Halloween at all.

Doggie stories....... my friend J has a new Chihuahua....... after much deliberation, J named her Taco Bella.  Perfectly cute name for a perfectly cute little dog.  Bella has already been photographed in a pink and white sweater, and a pink princess hat..... the paparazzi on this road just seems to be always ready to aim a camera at unsuspecting canines.   J wasn't exactly in the market for a dog, but Bella was found on the porch of a friend of hers..... the friend couldn't keep her because she already had two dogs and the husband said 'Enough already.'  (See? It's always the husbands.)   So J offered to take the Chihuahua on a trial basis. Well, we know how that goes.... once a dog comes into a house, it quickly becomes a member of the family.

My friend A in North Carolina is searching for a German Shepherd...... she's been to the rescue sites near her home, and she thinks they've found the perfect shepherd that will be a good match for Rosie, her Golden Retriever.  A had another Golden, but he passed away recently..... and after a short time, A was ready to adopt another dog.  A has always adopted older dogs... full grown and fully trained...... she doesn't want to go through the puppy stage, plus she wants to see 'the finished product' when the dog has matured.  A and her husband have given so many older dogs such good lives.... at a time in those dogs' lives when a lot of them would have been considered un-adoptable.

So..... a new little dog for J...... and soon, a new big dog for A..... and Halloween is coming---- one can only guess at the costume possibilities for these two new 'kids!'

September 11th, and then some.

The flags all over Texas were flying at half-staff today...... in memory of 9/11/01.  I saw parts of the memorial services on the news this morning. I just couldn't watch for more than a few minutes. After all these years, it's just very sad, and will continue to be. There is an old Texas saying that goes something like this: "Forgive your enemies.... it messes up their minds."  In this instance, for the 9/11 tragedy, forgiveness is impossible, especially for those who lost family and friends.

Our young friend Miss C flew home from her summer job at Yellowstone today. When she called me last week to tell me which day she was flying, I inwardly cringed, but didn't say anything to her over the phone.  I didn't want my fear to become her fear.  I would never ever get into a plane on the 11th of September. But that's me.  The phone rang about an hour ago.... C called me from the Houston airport.... she was on her way to get her luggage and then meet her parents outside the airport.  I was so happy to hear her voice and know that she was safely on the ground, back home in Texas.

Miss C thoroughly enjoyed her Yellowstone job...... aside from the horseback trail riding and the breath-taking scenery there, she now knows what she wants to do as a career..... therapeutic riding with horses and children.  She has already been offered a job with Habitat for Horses, which will be opening up a therapeutic riding center. Needless to say, she's thrilled. Now all she has to do is find herself a little apartment close by where she will be working. And no more roommates for C.... she said she's tired of cleaning up after messy people.  I'm hoping that she'll be able to visit up here after she finds a new apartment and before she starts working again.

We drove into Bryan today, for a birthday lunch for J and J..... we tried an Italian café up there, on the recommendation of S, who also joined us for the lunch.  I had a big salad with cooked chicken on top of it..... I hesitate to try Italian dishes when I don't see Italians in the kitchen. (Or, as they say in Texas--- Eye-talians.... which could explain why it's so hard to find a really good Italian restaurant in this state.)  My family, both sides, are all Italian, from Naples and Rome.... I grew up on the best Italian food in New York and I'm a tough judge of Italian restaurants, to say the least.

Between here and Bryan, the schools and businesses had their flags flying at half-staff... no matter the situation, that's always a sad moment, to see the flags only half-way up the flag pole. Grim red, white, and blue reminders of a tragic day.  I remember calling my friend Fran on 9/11....... her husband was a fireman at that time, and I knew his firehouse would be called to go into Manhattan.  As fate would have it, Fran's husband was off that day, so he wasn't one of the first responders.  Fran is gone now..... her husband is retired from the fire department..... her oldest son has a little girl, born just two weeks after Fran was buried.

I remembered all of that as we were driving home from Bryan this afternoon.  It was a beautiful day today, just as it was in NYC on Sept. 11th, 2001.  I was sitting in the back seat for the ride home today, remembering the panic and chaos of that day so many years ago.... and I remember talking to Fran about it during so many of our Texas-to-New York phone calls.  The beauty of this day and the sadness of this same day in 2001 made it hard to look out of the car window. I had to shut my eyes for a couple of minutes, to take away the memory of the World Trade Center towers falling to the ground.

The Web...

I was calling this "Charlotte's Web," but that title has already been claimed by E. B. White.  And rightly so.

There is a huge spider web hanging over the steps of the front porch. In the center of this web sits a golden-yellow and black spider. Our old handyman W used to call this spider a "banana spider," because of it's coloring. I think the correct name is a "Golden Weaver."  In the center of this spider's web is a long zig-zag design, sort of the spider's signature after the web is completed.

And what a web....... so intricate in design, really beautiful, actually, if you just focus on the design itself and forget that there is a not-very-pretty black and yellow spider waiting in the middle of it all. And wait she does.... and that spider has caught crickets and beetles and flies and moths.  I've seen the spider wrap her legs around her prisoners, hugging them close to her.... possibly saying "Grace" before she sets into digesting them?

Every morning as I walk down the front steps to turn on the hose that will water the marigolds, I look closely up at that web, to make sure the spider is still up there.  I have to walk under the web to get to the water faucet which controls that particular hose..... but the roof is high, and the web is at least ten feet above my head, so I'm not as brave as you may think.  If there ever comes a morning when the spider is not in her web, I doubt very much that I will walk under that empty web. I wouldn't want to be surprised by that spider, meeting her eye to eye as I turn on the water.

It amazes me that the spider is so patient. I'm wondering if she leaves the web when the sun goes down..... venturing out into the nearby palms and crape myrtles, looking for insects. Is it possible that she just sits in that web all day and all night and just waits for her dinner to drop or fly in?

I think it's almost time to read my copy of "Charlotte's Web" again.  A classic story, never out of print, never out of style. I've sold so many copies of that book in my booth at the antique store. 

"The Yearling"

I had never read this classic by Marjorie Kinnan Rawlings, but I've known about it since high school.  I didn't, however, know exactly what happened at the end of the story.  Had I known, would I have still read the book? Of course. But I'm glad I had no idea of the ending when I first opened that book last week. Beautifully written, with such detail that you felt as if you were actually living out there in the Florida woods.  And who knew that Florida once had bears and panthers and "Little House on The Prairie" settings....

My friend V back in Clear Lake once told me about this book.... that after she read it, she couldn't ever read a story about someone's pet ever again. Now I know why. (V never did mention the ending because she said she just couldn't discuss it.)  The last few chapters of "The Yearling" just destroyed me.  I sat there, just about numb with disbelief, tissues in hand (three of them soaking wet), and I wanted to put that book down for a while and not touch it for a few hours, but I also knew I had to finish that book because once I did put it down, I knew it would be a few years before I'd pick it up again.

After the last sentence of the last chapter, I looked up and out of the breakfast room windows. All that was out there were the grass-filled fields, the same fields where deer sometimes grazed in the early mornings. I kept staring out of the window and I saw the dark shadow of a hawk as it made its way over the field.  I never did see the hawk, but its shadow was as plain as day as it sailed over our property.

And the world went on....... even after that beautiful book with its devastating ending, the world just kept going on.  My husband came into the kitchen not long after I'd closed the book, as if nothing had happened, as if nothing had changed.  How can that be?  I felt as if I should go upstairs and hide under the covers of the bed for a while, or go up to the library on the third floor and just sit there and contemplate what I had just finished reading.

"Now that was a good book," I told my husband.  "How many tissues did you go through?" my husband wanted to know.  When I told him 'three,' he seemed surprised that the number wasn't higher. Well, it could have been, had I given into every little snuffle and tear that inched up during the last few chapters.  I just couldn't stop reading, and even while I was drenching those three tissues, I kept on  reading because I didn't want to miss one little word.  Sometimes, no matter how fast you can read, it just isn't fast enough.

Poor little deer.  Now had the parents consented to letting that boy have a dog or a cat for a pet, instead of that fawn, they wouldn't have had to worry about their corn crops.  But is there anything cuter than a tiny spotted fawn?

.... And the answer to that question is "Yes. Winnie the Poohdle."   --- That poodle lady called me yesterday....... I thought she was going to tell me the poodle puppy was still available, but that wasn't the reason for her call.  The puppy had been adopted by a lady who fell in love with him on the spot (been there, done that)...... but now the poodle lady had found a stray Black Lab puppy who needed a home, and she wanted to know if I knew anyone who was interested.  (Been there, done that also..... no one is ever interested when you have a stray puppy or kitten, it seems.... everyone around here has their own pets.)

So....... "The Yearling" story has ended.......... and the "Winnie the Poohdle" story has now officially ended....... and here we are at the beginning of September.  Time to think about getting the boxes of Halloween decorations out of the storage closet.