Things Were Starting to Get Better, And Then...

I realize that it's been a while since I've posted. It's not that I meant to disappear for eight months (!), but as John Lennon once said, "Life is what happens to you while you are making other plans." I'd meant to write about the Christmas parade where I live being canceled last December because of the pandemic, and then having a very shortened version of it the following week, the advent of the COVID-19 vaccines that were pushed through, the slow openening up of life in general.

Of course, none of those posts happened. I'll have to post about those in the near future, along with photos (where applicable).

Things were starting to get better, for the most part. Maybe not great yet, but better than the past year, with all the mask-wearing,-social-distancing,-job-losses and stuff. There had been some hiccups along the way, but then, that's life, right?

Maybe an hour ago, I got a call from my cousin Charles. While we'd occasionally touch base of Facebook ("Happy Birthday!", "Merry Christmas!", that sort-of stuff), it had been a while since we'd spoken. In fact, I think that the last time I'd heard his voice was during my mom's memorial service.

Photos from Mom's memorial.

Charles, David, Tyson (behind Charles), Amy

Charles (waving), Chris, Tyson, David (waving), Amy

After a brief hello, Charlie informed me that his dad, my Uncle Dave, had passed away over the weekend...something about a fall, a trip to the hospital, but that there hadn't been much that could be done. He'd turned 93 in April, had been Mom's only sibling, three years Mom's senior.

Most of us are aware that our parents (if they're still alive) will die someday, as will we. But it's still a shock when it happens. Our parents were around since we were born, and, therefore, are going to be around forever, right?

We spoke for several minutes, reminiscing a little, talking about the shock of losing a parent, talking about how my aunt is holding up. (As well as can be expected, considering.) My aunt and uncle had been married 67 years, no small feat.

We talked a little longer...he caught me up on how his brother and sister were handling this, as well as some other cousins who live nearby.

With Dave's passing, his and Mom's generation (with the exception of my aunt) have gone on.

Mom, make sure you say "hi" to Dave.

Here are a few more photos from Mom's memorial.

Take a Hike...

There was a time when I would manage to get out for a walk or run most mornings. Even when I was in an off mood - or maybe especially if I was in one - I'd lace up my running shoes and head out. It almost always improved my mood.

Unfortunately, as much as I'd sworn I'd get back to walking or running on a daily basis, things (read: life) happens. Jobs come up - definitely a good thing, especially when it comes to paying bills. Weather gets a little dicey. Early morning appointments come up. What was it John Lennon said? Something about, "Life is what happens when we're busy making other plans"?

Yesterday was one of my work days. It's only three hours a day, three days a week, along with an extra hour over the weekend. A few extra hours would help, but I'm sure not knocking it. But then there were a few errands that needed running. J. wanted to come along, but he needed a shower, first. Later, there were problems with M. getting picked up from work and I spent an hour or so attached to the computer and phone, trying to get him picked up. And then...and then...and then...Sound familiar? Yeah, we all have days when we feel like we haven't really gotten anything constructive done, but you blink and think, Geez, where'd the day go?

During the hour or so I was trying to get M.'s ride worked out, several people walked by. Not just aimlessly wandering, but walking for exercise, getting the heart rate up, getting fresh out, out there walking, and it clicked. While I prefer exercising in the morning, I could conceivably get out in the late afternoon. Please keep your Well, duh! comments to yourself; my snarky inner voice is way ahead of you.

After M. finally got home, I grabbed my Converse high tops - not my usual running shoes, but that's fine - and put them on.

"You're going out?" J. asked. "Now?"

"Yup," I replied.

He mulled this over a minute or so before asking, "You were planning on spaghetti tonight, right? I'll put the water on at seven."

I thanked him and headed out.

There's one route I use when time is limited. It's a mile out, a mile back, mostly cross-country. Takes all of maybe a minute or so to get out of the neighborhood and into the back entrance of a local park. Once there, there are any number of directions to go. Heading south along a dirt path, there was a stand of cypress trees to the right. They're in a retention area. Most of the time, the ground is dry, but during Florida's rainy season, the trees are suddenly in a small pond. This time of year, their leaves brown up before falling.





On the left is a drainage ditch, with a stable on the other side of the ditch. For a while, there was one lone horse in this particular stable, though the owners have now rented out all the stalls. It's always interesting to see the activity around the place. Late afternoons and weekends seem to be the busiest times.



After crossing a three-lane street (yes, three lane - one heading west, one east, and the center as a turn lane for either direction), the path shifts a little. The ditch is now on the right, separating the dirt path from the back side of a small community of townhouses, which then ends and another property with stable and horses begins.



On the left are woods, a pond, and a house set far-off-the-beaten-path. Originally built in the early part of the twentieth century, it was moved to its current site maybe 15 years ago, give or take.

This part of the path is great for contemplation: there's very little noise one would associate with heavily populated areas, lots of wind-in-the-tree-type-rustling, birds, an occasional whinny from the nearby horses. Occasionally, I'll even hear the raucous cry from the nearby peacocks that roam the area.

As I walked along, my mind wandered. I even got the chance to try out the camera feature of my new cellphone that my daughter, M.H., had picked up, posting a couple of photos on Facebook.

I finally made it to the far end of the path, where it hit a two-lane road. Turning right or left would have taken me along areas where a few large houses with acres and acres and stables are, while straight ahead would have taken me to a small horse park, replete with wetlands and a boardwalk through the woods. Instead, I turned to head back.

About this time, my cellphone rang. It was J., letting me know that he'd just put the water on for the spaghetti.

"Any idea how long 'til you're home?" I told him where I was and that it'd probably be another fifteen minutes before I'd be there. "I can see a car's headlights in the distance," he told me. "They look like they're from that moved-in house." They were. Someone was just leaving the property.

"I'm about to pass that house," I told him.

We chatted a few minutes before he wandered back inside to deal with fixing dinner.

When I hit the neighborhood again, I saw one of our neighbors. She was walking a small dog that I'd never seen before. Turns out she and her husband had just adopted Gus a month or two ago.

"I've never had a small dog before," she told me. "But when I saw this guy at the pet rescue place, it was love at first site." We talked as we headed north toward our respective homes, with Gus occasionally coming up to me so I could scratch his head. We parted company at our driveways.

By this time, the spaghetti and garlic bread were ready. For some strange reason, I didn't mind washing the dishes afterwards. Somehow, having someone else fix dinner while I'm out walking seemed to help.

I'd try that again this evening, but two nights in a row might be pushing it. But evening walks are definitely something I'll consider when mornings get too hectic.

A Tail of Two Cats (And A Dog and another Cat...)

I currently have two cats, which is ironic, considering I'm more of a dog person. Most people, if they like dogs and cats, tend to like one species a little more than the other. I've always been more of a dog person, but that's beside the point: I now share my house with two cats.

Actually, it's not completely my fault that the two of them live here. Oh, yes, I know, I didn't have to allow either one into my house. But there are times when life happens. What was it John Lennon said? "Life is what happens when you're busy making other plans." Which is what happened here.

I was having a bad year. It hadn't actually been a January-through-December-bad-year, more like June-through-whenever kind of bad year. It started when our cocker spaniel died in June, 2006. Osha was 16 years old, and we knew it was just a matter of time. She's started losing her hearing, her vision was getting bad, and in the last few weeks, she seemed to have the dog equivalent of Alzheimer's.

One afternoon, maybe a week before she died, I'd let her out in our fenced-in back yard and, somehow, she'd managed to slip out in a break in the fence that she'd never been able to get through in her middle age. When I saw her wandering next to the road, I ran out and scooped her up. She gave me a happy-aging-puppy look that seemed to say, Hi! I can't quite place you, but you do look familiar! Maybe you have a nice treat for me? I knew...



Osha

A week later, the evening of June 4, she had trouble getting up and coming to the bedroom. My son, J., was on the computer, and planned to be up for a while.

"If she needs help, let me know," I told him.

"Sure thing," he answered.

Maybe fifteen minutes later, he knocked on the door, holding Osha. She'd tried crawling out of the living room toward the hallway. I took the old gal and placed her on her nest of blankets, petting her once-silky fur.

But no matter what, she couldn't get comfortable. Paul got up and fixed a pot of coffee and we sat up with Osha. We knew that if she didn't go that night, we'd have to do the hard thing and take her to the vet's in the morning. She was that far gone. Sixteen is a very old cocker spaniel.

Finally, at 4:00, when it was obvious she couldn't get comfortable, I picked her up and sat on the front porch while cradling her. She'd always loved sitting on the porch, sniffing the air, watching the neighborhood. She howled her wimpy little cocker spaniel howl, something she hadn't done in probably several years, then settled down. I told her what a good girl she was, that it was okay for her to go.

When I brought her back inside around 4:30, she seemed ready to sleep. Sometime between then and 6:00, she passed over the Rainbow Bridge, her friend and buddy, our cat, E. B. White, keeping watch.

That was a hard one. Even Paul - a former Marine! - was a little teary-eyed.

Then came October. Paul was sick and had to be rushed by ambulance to the hospital. At one point, he seemed to be getting better. But after almost a week, he passed away. I won't go over the details; suffice it to say that I covered that in another blog...



Paul

The following June, E. B. White died. She'd seemed to be going downhill after Osha and Paul died. And on Father's Day of 2007 - June 17 - she, too, died. After wrapping her up in an old towel so that I could take her to be cremated the next day, I called to wish my dad a happy Father's Day. Unfortunately, it was obvious he couldn't come to the phone. Two years earlier, he and my step-mom had come to visit to let me know Dad had cancer and was terminal. He died two weeks later. My brother, too, had gone several months earlier.



E. B. White



Greg



Dad and step-mom, Phyllis

I really wasn't in the mood for any more pets. Cats and dogs tend to have a shorter life-span than people, which means that there's a good chance you'll have to go through the pain of their deaths. I was soooo over death and dying. Whether the loved one was a person or a pet, it hurt. True, some deaths hurt more than others, but it still hurts. I was not going through that again!

About a month before E. B. died, though, I had called my friend Kevin up. Kevin, you might recall from previous posts, drives cab. I needed a ride, so I usually call Kev.

On this particular trip, Kevin informed me that his friend Billie, a nice gal who'd gone through a rough patch with her sense of humor intact, had a cat who'd just had a litter of kittens. "All of them have been claimed for adoption when they're old enough, except for one," Kev informed me. "That one is yours'. He's your karma." I was sure he meant that I was destined to have this cat, but it came out as Karma.

"No way I'm taking that kitten," I informed Kev. "I don't need another cat."

"Yes, you do," he insisted.

"Whatever." I let the subject drop, figuring that someone else would come along and decide that they had to have that kitten.

But nooooo. Kevin kept giving me periodic updates on my kitten. The first couple of weeks, I kept telling him no. Then I got to the smirking stage; no way is he giving me that darn kitten!

"But Karma's so cute!" he gush, as I smirked away.

Sometime between E. B.'s death and my dad's death, two weeks later, I was on the phone with my son-in-law, B. (M.H., who I'd wanted to talk to, had gone to work.) Suddenly, a car honked in the driveway. I looked outside.

Kevin.

"Hold on," I told B. "Someone's here."

I opened the door as Kev opened the trunk of his cab. "I got your cat!" he called.

"Even you wouldn't keep a kitten in the trunk of your cab!" I responded. He gave me a look.

"No, Billie has Karma. I just have all the cat stuff so you can't give him back!"

It was then that I noticed Billie in the front seat. She opened the window and handed out a tiny black furball. Karma's eyes were wide and he opened his mouth to let out a yowly mew. I took him as Kev put litter box, cat litter, and a six-pack of canned cat food on the front porch before beating a hasty retreat to the cab.



Karma Kitty, first week at home

"Enjoy!" he called as he jumped into the cab, threw it in reverse and left!

I looked at this tiny little bundle. "What are we going to do?" I asked. He leaned into me, then looked up and bit the end of my nose.

I got him and the stuff into the house and watched as he sniffed the carpet. E.B.'s scent was still there. "Yes, Karma," I told him. "This is a cat house." Meaning that we'd recently had a cat.

At this point, I heard laughter. It sounded kind-of far away, but somehow close. The phone!

Grabbing the phone, I asked, "Are you still there?" B. was. He'd heard the cat house remark.

A month later, we adopted Drexie from our vets' office (Pinellas Animal Hospital). I figured a second cat would keep Karma company. After a day or two of getting acquainted, during which time Karma kept trying to get rid of the intruder, until she finally fought back and let him know I'm staying, they've become friends and perfect foils for one another.



Karma Kitty, adult



Drexie Calabash

I guess I'll keep 'em.

New Year's Resolutions, or How Do You Make God Laugh?

It's New Year's day - the time when many people make resolutions. I'm one of those people who do that. Over the year, I've learned to make my resolutions a little more realistic. Don't always make it all the way through the year, but I do try.

So, what are my New Year's resolutions this year? Hit the gym at least twice a week. Walk (working up to running) at least three days a week. Start eating healthy. Working a budget. Kickstarting my production company, rather than letting it simply limp along (wow, sounds like working up a business plan, contacting the SBA, etc). And a few other things that really need to be worked on that, if I don't sit down and decide that's it, it's now or never, because this stuff's not happening by itself!, it'll never get done.

Two of the things I had resolved included exercising/walking/running and taking more photography. Even set up a brain dump (or, rather, photography dump) blog for the photography so that I could then decide what I want to put my website. (I also posted on another photography blog I'd come up with maybe a year ago but never posted to until this morning. That one will probably be deleted, since the name is too similar to a site that I love going to. But take a look at it and let me know which background you like before I delete it: the beach background or the plain background. Yes, you, the reader...leave a comment, please!) I'd planned to start the walking and photography today.

When I got up this morning, I discovered that the plumbing was acting up - a lot. On the plus side, the bathtub holds a lot of water. The down side is...you guessed it...stuff was backing up into the tub. The washer was backing up into the tub. The kitchen sink was backing up into the tub. Stuff was backing up into the tub. (That's as far as we're going with that!) So, of course, I called the landlord. On New Year's Day. At 8:00 a.m. Still haven't heard back, and it's almost 10:30. I'm sure they'll be pleased (sarcasm, here). Of course, I could have called them when I had an inkling that things might be amuck...but I doubt they would've liked hearing from me at 11:45 p.m. on New Year's Eve.

The walk can wait until later today. The photography? I've posted one of my older photos. The rest of my resolutions are still doable. Things happen...What was it John Lennon said? "Life is what happens while you are busy making other plans." How true.

Happy New Year! Be safe.