June 12, 2022. Seven days ago, following weeks of deliberate seeking, we took two kittens from their foster home into our home. Right at 2 months old, furry purring little balls of energy! We were set on a calico (having lost our elderly calico earlier this year) and once-weaned, the younger the better to bond with us. Here in Austin, really young kittens are put in foster homes and their photos posted online. We zoomed in on “Brawny” and eventually met her and sister BusyBee. Silly names, but delightful kittens. Took another week of forms and delays before we could bring them home.
Suddenly the energy shifted. No more angst about whether we were first in line as takers. No more logistics about pick-up. A huge inhale and we were off into the naming! We took this seriously, wanting names an adult cat would identify with, names that rolled easily off our tongues.
Already off-track from weeks transferring (reducing, adapting, copying) files from old computer to new computer this naming energy swooped me further from normal. I am now a month plus behind in so many ways. But kittens were the reward for transfer drudgery, and now I look forward to returning to near-normal routines. But first: celebration of kittens with collage and poem!
For several weeks everywhere I turned, more emphasis on the coming conjunction of Jupiter and Saturn. This grabbed me – association with once rescuing 2 kittens only days apart – Jupiter first, then Saturn. Jupiter indeed the brighter hued being equally black and white; Saturn just black except for a few stray white hairs. They came from different parts of Austin, “conjuncting” in my elaborate cat enclosure (now history). My sky-watcher husband invested in a new camera lens and we arranged to be camping in a dark-skies area on Solstice, focused upward at the rare view of planets Jupiter and Saturn crossing paths (conjunction).
Plans played out well until Solstice was upon us and things began shifting. Clouding up. As uncontrollable as everything else in 2020! At end of evening, I reflected on the day’s unveiling, concluding the elusive armadillo more relevant than planet maneuvers. Here comes 2021, bringing more hype about all matter of things! No doubt more clouding as well.
Clouds did part briefly for a couple of very boring images of planets nowhere near predicted overlap as viewed from South Llano River State Park, central Texas.
Wishing all open minds and access to safe hide-a-ways when our minds need a break.
April 11, 2020. I’ve been sewing … first time in awhile! Making face masks to wear into grocery stores and such per COVID-19 expectations. In years past I did a lot of sewing, but not recently. Feels good to be back in the saddle, so to speak.
March 26, 2020. We humans do well to pay attention to wisdom beyond our own, channeled perhaps, direct perhaps, intuited probably. Some questioning (especially of the disparate advice regarding the COVID-19 influence) is inevitable.
Snow Sez is one of my favorite comics, and I have been distressed at his absence this past week. He was just gathering wisdom, it seems … delivered today. I took it immediately to my resident “seer” and she gave a nod. (But note: she continues cleaning her paws in traditional feline fastidious ways.)
(My mother would be 102 today … I sense her nudging me to lighten up.)
March 13, 2020. Today the governor declared Texas a disaster area. (No doubt others before have deemed Texas a disaster in some vein … this official designation stems from COVID-19 … health and economic issues.) We are headed into Spring Break, so my teacher husband will be off work next week; likely the week after that; unknown how long the panic and the virus causing the panic will prevail. I fit into an age bracket considered more vulnerable to this invasive virus, though I do not feel old (apart from several joints that ache). Difficult to believe this virus could feel any worse than my severe reaction to Shingrix back in November! Anticipating my 2nd Shingrix coming in April, I choose to remain optimistic that I will make it through that and this disaster. I expect to be reflecting a year from now on lessons learned while moving blindly, unsure what I’ll bump into next (shelves empty of essentials … canceled events counted on … local businesses shutting down) yet comforted by others sharing this not-knowing.
Last August, I sat for several days with an old lady named Bella. Bella is blind. Bella is quite old for a cat. Bella keeps purring. Bella taught me a thing or two. This poem, written with Bella, was subsequently accepted for the 18th annual Story Circle Network anthology: Real Women Write: Growing / Older, Susan Schoch, Editor — https://www.amazon.com/dp/0979532957 — paperback & e-book
November 20, 2019. Seems Brie gets into just about everything, even my meditative moments. I concede laughing and then snapping a photo of my cat constitutes breaking the trance … but it led to an enlightened attitude on the spot and a poem later that day. I will post it now as an odd-ball “gratitude poem” for this Thanksgiving … a bit early as I’ll be traveling during the holiday.
October 19, 2019. Monarchs have begun appearing among our blue mist blooms … any day now we expect a large number to swoop through on their way South. This is an annual delight, but now comes with a complication named Brie. She’s spending prime outdoor hours indoors – unless I’m available to go intervene on behalf of the Monarchs. Monarchs seem quiet swift in rising if a cat appears. But. Brie is under restrictions! I found her huddled on the kitchen counter with bananas, clearly pouting.
October 3, 2019. Had a relaxed nap this afternoon in my zero-gravity recliner – recently moved into the living room to increase wiggle space in the den. When I woke, I was staring at two images blurring together, becoming one big tug on my imagination – a waking dream. I lay back awhile exploring possibilities, then got up and did the obvious next thing: I wrote a poem.
The oil painting (perhaps by my grandmother) is of Texas bluebonnets along a country road, near Cuero, Texas. The cat is one of many feline figures decorating various surfaces in my home. Positioning cat within the frame was not entirely imagination – my angle looking upward (glasses nowhere near) contributed. I’ve reconstructed what I “saw” as collage.
Tomorrow I plan a repeat nap, same space. Who knows what I’ll see?
September 10, 2019. This is Mary Oliver’s 84th birthday. This is also a day of numerous stirring poems in my morning read … including cats with whom I have a life-long close affinity (thank you, Cate) and Karma (thank you, LuAnne). Synchronicity arrived to tie it all together nicely: my cat Brie delivering an opportunity to practice good karma on behalf of a not-yet-adult green anole. (I call those lizzies.)
Cate’s poem: https://zenofhen.wordpress.com/2019/09/10/unbecoming-2/
LuAnne’s poem: https://intentionalinterplay.wordpress.com/2019/09/10/karma-dharma/
No camera in hand when I went to investigate Brie’s yowls. And when I returned with camera, my subject was hiding deep, deep in the succulents. Hence, this image is a collage of today’s planter with prior lizzie as stand-in.
October 31, 2018. Never mind the date and the hue – this is not a Halloween post.
It’s a response to what’s been stirring in my backyard for the past few days, and today’s nudge from Sam Allen at www.peacockpoetryblog.wordpress.com – she suggests a poetic look at one scene through two lenses. That’s what I’ve been doing in the yard – admiring the butterflies, admiring the cat, conflicted over the proximity of such different energies. I am awed (and relieved) at how adeptly butterflies react to presence of cat …
I was unsuccessful trying to photograph Brie leaping for a butterfly, hence the collage. These butterflies were among this afternoon’s many visitors. They are indulging in the blue mist that stands three-to-four feet above ground (and cat).