Little Things

Isn't life funny? It's not the big things that we strive so hard to do, find, have that bring us joy. It's the little, seemingly unimportant things that it's so easy to overlook.

A few to offer:

This my little fountain in it's finished form. The old grindstone, a gift from Bob Kellogg, is highlighted by a bell-shaped flow of water. I'd originally planned a bubbler, but the bell seems better for our avian friends. Since putting this together I find I want to sit on the front porch and just quietly watch and enjoy.
And, the hummers continue to be part of the show. We need to get a hummer feeder with maximum ports. This morning there were at least eight little devils fighting over two ports, and they empty this feeder in less than a day. Our thought had been that because it's in sun a smaller feeder would be better 'cuz it wouldn't allow the nectar to become rancid. Wrong. It's doesn't have time to age at all.
So, I can listen to and watch the fountain, watch the hummers, and look up at Eagle's Nest all at once. We had a Rufous hummingbird here for a day, a bit of a rarity. This is a migration route for them, but they don't hang around. The Rufous became my favorite while we lived in New Mexico (where they do hang around). They are a bit stubbier and stockier than the Ana's, and very aggressive. Such a kick to watch.

And, here, cupped in Scottie's hands is a baby bird hatched in a nest that mom established on the main rafter of our porch. We found a dead bird last week, a suicide by window, and I was afraid it might have been the mom. Scottie agreed to check out the nest, and this little guy/girl didn't like being looked at! Getting him/her back in the nest was tricky, and fledging has occurred now, so our little baby has moved on.

I have this theory that it's not the mountains we have to climb but the pebble in our shoe that causes grief. Can't help wondering why we'll walk on and on, feeling the pain, complaining, but not stop and simply remove the rock. Sorta like the food in the rat trap from another angle. Some things trap us by drawing us in; some trap us by our unwillingness to deal with them. Got any pebbles in your shoes today?

Through HELL-A and back

Why oh why can't I get from here to San Diego without going through LA???

Oh well. Drove down Thursday; back Saturday. Not a very long trip but I took care of some important things. I stayed with my father-in-law; and, as I knew would be, I was greeted by a rose from his garden in my room.



I haven't been to SD alone in a long, long time. It was great to spend time with Hughie. I saw some friends, ate at a couple of my favorite places, shopped a bit. Typical SD weekend. I visited my old (in both senses of the word) friend Mae Lou who is in a nursing home. Her brain goes in and out, but when it's "in", she's just as sharp as ever. She motioned for me to bend down for a hug and kiss as I was leaving, ran her fingers through my hair (which I'm wearing a bit on the spikey side) and said, "Your hair's a mess." Yep, that's Mae Lou.

No photos from the nursing home. It's too depressing.

I had breakfast Saturday AM at the Broken Yolk in Pacific Beach with Michelle (left) and Dawn. Michelle's 53rd birthday!! They are going to plan a weekend trip to visit when both can take a day off work.



Also got one of the greatest quotes ever from friend Tom. Tom is an anesthesiologist. He's had some serious health problems and is retired on partial disability, but trying to do some part-time work at Kaiser to supplement income. That wasn't working out well, so he was thinking about other work. Then he said. . . . ready?? Here it comes: "There's always food in the rat trap." So, he's trying to come to a way to reduce costs rather than look for other work. Made me think of the book Watership Down. So, I'm now trying to pay very close attention to what may be my personal rat trap.


And, then there's LA. Going down was awful. Coming back not quite as bad. This photo is coming back. Had I thought to take a picture going down, you'd see traffic in both directions completely stopped. The air was even dirtier than it looks in this photo. I've got a sore throat just from driving through twice. The human animal was NOT meant to live this way.

One more of those just magical things: Hughie and I went to our favorite Italian restaurant, Venetian in Pt. Loma, Thursday evening. As we were getting ready to leave I looked up and saw a couple I'd lost track of several years ago after they moved from SD to Louisiana. I tried to find them post-Katrina via Google (they have an unusual name and he is a doctor so it seemed reasonable), but had no luck. So, there they were. Moved back? Nope. In town for a wedding, just for the weekend, and we ended up at the same place. So, now I have contact info for old friends. Pretty cool.

I'm making a pact with myself to get to San Diego more often. Mae Lou doesn't have a lot of time left, and Hughie is almost 96, though in great shape. I just have to suck it up and do it, LA or not.

Animal Tracks

Hummer wars have started!

The little darlings may look peaceful here, but don't be fooled. We have great aerial battles that perhaps should be called something other than dogfights. Even going near the feeder to refill it is an invitation for attack. One went through my hair as I took down the feeder to refill!

Our other feeders are bringing in lots of birds too, but none so fun to watch as these little daredevils.




Buck and Cocoa pretty much ignore all the airborne activity in favor of rolling in the dirt. Now that they have their wireless fence and collars they get to roam freely within their 90 foot circle. It's truly great. They've started playing again, wrestling, jumping on one another, and carrying on big time. Sitting in the kennel, although it's good sized, seemed to leave them depressed and unhappy. These are big puppers, and they need space to roam.


Buck especially loves rolling in dirt. It would be the white dog, and it would be clay dirt that leaves him a lovely rust color. Cocoa mouths him all over during their wrestling matches, then he rolls in the dirt while he's wet, and this is the result. Planting this time of year is a waste, but I'll be very glad to have grass for them to play on.

A bit of philosophy

The Critter Chronicles
Mousse’s Eating Disorder and Other Bad Habits

Mousse in his later years
Sunning in one of his favorite spots

If I had thought to save a small piece of each thing that we retrieved from Mousse over the years it would have made a very interesting art piece. But, who thinks of something like that with the first incident?

The first “big” incident was when Mousse ate a tennis ball. We didn’t know about it, and by the time we figured out he was ill, he had a complete bowel blockage. I'm pretty sure he saw the light at the end of the tunnel and even glimpsed the big dog park in the sky. Major surgery and $1500 later, he was home with a big scar but having learned nothing. It wasn’t long before we began talking about Mousse’s “eating disorder”.

We got Mousse as a puppy from a breeder who raised Chocolate Labs. He always had a good home, and he always had plenty to eat, so that’s not the reason he ate anything, really ANYTHING. I came to joke about his inner puppy having been damaged, but it got less and less funny over time.

Just a couple of months after the big surgery, Mousse ate part of his purple leash. Maybe he didn’t like the color. Anyway, he chewed it up and pieces were missing. So, we loaded him into the car and went to the vet’s office. Because we had noticed the missing leash right away they could give him a shot to make him throw up. And, he did - threw up the leash pieces that is. The vet said to be really careful because it appeared Mousse liked to eat things. Yeah. That was just the start.

I won’t bore you with all the details, but Mousse kept eating stuff over and over. He even had to have a second big surgery, this time after he-who-shall-remain-nameless gave him a piece of corn on the cob to see if he would like it. He did, cob and all. Over the next couple of days we thought he had passed it. Wrong. Once again he had a blockage, and this time the corn started to ferment. Mousse almost died. Charges this time were about $3200.

We had the incident when Mousse ate a pair of my lace undies. Again, we got him to the vet quickly for the upchuck medicine. The vet tech, with whom we were on a first name basis by then, brought them out to the waiting area in a baggie and asked if I’d like them back. Ha ha. We had the time Mousse ate who knows what along with the plastic bag it came in. Scott followed him down the sidewalk in Pt. Loma pulling on the bag as Mousse tried to walk and rid himself (through the rear end) of the object at the same time. There was the time he got into a bag of cat food and ate at least three pounds before he was caught. He was bloated and emitting the worst dog gas in the world for days on end even though we kept him on a rice diet. There was the deer hoof he found, ingested, and delivered a day or so later in a roadside stop while we were headed out to shop. And on and on it went.

We came to say “that’s just the way he is“. Mousse simply couldn’t help eating things. It’s was just Mousse. Some dogs like to chase cats. Mousse didn’t. Some dogs tear up furniture. Mousse didn’t. But, he ate anything. That was his bad habit. And, we continued to love him. And take him to the vet. And worry that some day he would kill himself via something he ate. And refer to him as the $7000 dog.

So, why has it always been so much harder for me to muster up this kind of acceptance with humans? Why did my mother’s neediness drive me nuts? How about my husband’s obsessing on his diet and exercise? Why can’t I come up with the same generosity of spirit to truly say “It’s just the way he/she is,” and mean it? And, do you suppose there might be another human who finds some of MY habits irritating? Could be.

Mousse loved us with all his heart and we returned his love. Over the years we were blessed to have him in our lives, we learned many, many lessons. But, I think absolute acceptance was the biggest.

Yes, it would be a better world if
we’d all just let one another be who we are!

There's some changes happening!

First, you probably noticed a change to the format of this blog. I decided it was time to spiff things up a bit. And, you can look for more "life as we know it" type info. If that bores you, tune out; otherwise stayed tuned, add comments, participate if you choose!



Hughie and Susie arrived for their visit on Monday afternoon. Hughie is completely amazing. Check this out:

He will be 96 in September and looks wonderful in his shorts. Hughie walked around pulling weeds as is his habit. He'd brought his pruners in case we needed help in that department, but since we have no shrubbery yet, they didn't get used.

Day two brought a bit of car sickness, plus just plain ole tiredness to our elder statesman. He napped and Scott and Susie helped put together the little solar fountain I wanted to use in conjunction with an old grindstone.



It worked - with the past tense being important. The blankety-blank thing quit within 24 hours. I'm returning it. Will either get a regular, non-solar pump that is more powerful or just forget the whole project.



The guest room and bath apparently worked well, or Hughie and Susie were too polite to tell me if they didn't!

Good friend Shari back in Illinois is turning SIXTY very soon. Happy 6 - 0 Shari!!!! Get going and get that visit re-scheduled.

It's a time of high heat here. Expected to get over 100 today and tomorrow, then back to more normal temps. Funny how wilted I become when it's so hot. I look out the window and see rust color trees in the hills, those being the buckeye. Funny tree. It doesn't like heat and drops its leaves in the summer rather than the winter. Watering doesn't help as it's not drought deciduous, but heat deciduous. I feel the same way.

Ready for Company!!

Well, we are as ready as we can get right now. Scottie's office/the den/TV room is crowded, but at least much better organized. Until his desk moves to his permanent office, no one can use this as a bedroom 'cuz we can unfold the sofa bed. Love the window seat & have top down/bottom up blinds ordered for sun control.




The living room is in pretty good shape. I hung the big old empty frame around the clock. Like it.


The main guest room (for the time being "Hughie's room) is spiffed up. Curtains hung, bedspread washed to get rid of the cat vomit, all the usual things one does in preparation for company. I like the blues in this room with the pale greens. It's a very peaceful look.



My studio/office/laundry room/cat room, which is presently "Susie's room", is as good as it can be made for the time being. It's quite "busy". Too much stuff happening and furniture that is not even remotely coordinated. But with a bedspread on the day bed and lots of pillows, it's not too bad. Hung my Mom's old embroidery hoops around the painting above the bed. Think I like that too.

So, Hughie and Susie arrive tomorrow, Monday, and stay until Thursday. We have about 10 days activities in mind but will do our best to remember that Hughie is almost 96!


Cats are shut out of Hughie's room. Unfortunately for Susie, there is no other place than her room where their littler box and food can go. She's pretty adaptable though.

We're thinking 2 nights of eating at home and one night up to the Gateway to eat overlooking the river.

More later.

Early morning

I sit at my computer in the early AM and watch the sun hit Eagles Peak. If only I could make the power pole and lines go away!

This is just an incredibly beautiful place to live, and I feel so lucky to have found it and managed to get our home built here.

It's quiet, peaceful, has lots of animals to watch, artists galore, just enough to do. Perfect.




And, this is my Japanese Maple. We just got it potted. I'm not wild about the pot, but the ones I like in this size are quite expensive. I may put some yogurt on this one to encourage it to grow moss so it looks less plasticky.

Hughie and Susie (for those who don't know, that's my father-in-law and sister-in-law) arrive Monday. Can't wait. And, I'm so pleased that Hughie, who is almost 96, wants to make the trip and is up to doing it. He's pretty amazing.

We need to finish cleaning up the guest room and studio, where the day bed is located, and get curtains hung in those rooms so there is some privacy for visitors.

Most of the house will remain curtain-less so as not to spoil the views.

The wireless fence and collars are working just great for Cocoa and Buck. It's such a relief to be able to let them out and know they will hang around. And, for who knows what reason, it seems to have had a calming effect on both of them. Wonder if they make those collars for husbands. Wonder what part of the male anatomy would be the most effective place to fasten the shocker. . . . Hmmmmm.

Mayhem, Murder, Magic - and the Power of Love!

It started as a tragic tale. No more horrible mayhem had been seen since the days of Jack the Ripper.

Andy of the Raggedy family was found decapitated. Pieces of his scalp were strewn about. Stuffing was everywhere.

The prognosis was NOT good.







With Andy's body propped up, our Magician gathered all his pieces, and all her courage, to see if she could do better than all the King's horses and all the King's men had done for Humpty Dumpty.

Closer examination revealed that Andy had some missing parts, specifically his nose and a couple of pieces of scalp. Not a good sign.









Andy's parts were carefully arranged, and our Magician gathered some special pieces of magic, fusible tape, an old handkerchief and iron-on patches. Could Andy be repaired into at least a semblance of his former self?

Anne waited in the wings, her winsome smile never wavering. She knew a secret that none of the rest of us could fathom.





With Andy's head reassembled, a new nose drawn on, his blond hair re-glued and an almost round shape accomplished, the Magician opened Andy's clothing to determine just how to re-attach his head. There, hidden from view, and apparently drawn in by Andy's original Creator, was a simple red heart with the words "I love you" written inside.






With renewed confidence the Magician set about the final part of Andy's surgery. Sure enough, he was soon able to sit upright. Anne was obviously pleased to see her beloved brother!

So, our story has a happy ending. Anne and Andy now retire to a version of a retirement home especially for members of families like the Raggedy's - our storage room. Some day they may have their own condo in the form of a shadow box from which they can watch life pass by in safety. For now, a little time to recuperate is in order, along with protection from those unknown monsters - well it could have been either one - who attacked Andy to begin with!

All's well. Andy's scars will only add a Rhett Butler sort of charm to his good looks.

It's been a tough week

I've had the worst week health-wise in some time. After managing to throw myself in to a major fibromyalgia flare, I kept spiraling down until I reached then blew right through a tipping point. That left me with a day of tears, pain so bad I thought I'd vomit, swelling, etc., etc., etc.

And, yes, I do know better.


So, no updates all week, and not much of anything else.
We did manage to hang some art the past couple of days. That always makes a place feel more "mine". So, here's the tour:



This piece is one of mine. It's hanging above the little telephone table (actually a built in cabinet, but made to look like a telephone table) by the kitchen door. This painting won a minor award at a San Diego show, and it's one of Scott's favorites.














This is in the den/Scottie's temporary office. The large photo above his desk is a blow up of a photo he took while in the service, during his paratrooper training. It was later used for an ad for his old business, Pt. Loma Bag Co., and I think it won some sort of award for the advertising guru who did it.









These bird photos were a junk shop discovery. I don't think they are hand colored, but they are quite old; and I got them at a real bargain as a gift for Scottie several years ago. They fit perfectly above the opening between kitchen and dining room.









OK, ignore the mess. This is in my studio. The painting above the day bed is what the kids and Scottie got me for my birthday this year. The frame was white, which caused the picture to be washed out. I did a quick, down and dirty paint job on it knowing that I'll eventually reframe. The clock on the wall to the left was one of the group we made a few years ago in New Mexico as Christmas gifts. It's great red rock with lichen on it. On the old sewing machine is a tray we made another year. I got a bunch of used horse shoes from a rancher. Scottie cleaned them up, attached them to wooden trays he made and I word-burned the "Casa Pacifica" logo on them.

Above our bed is a painting I did of three pears in which I used crumpled rice paper on top of the water color paper (just w/i the outline of the pears), then painted over. Had to call it "A Pear to Paint To" - get it??? Anyway, Scottie liked this one.


On the stairway landing is one of my favorites by Mona Segal, an artist who was in some classes that I also took. Mona is a fabulous artist! If you notice anything missing, like the raggedy Anne and Andy dolls, blame Buck. Well, I'm blaming him, though it could have been Cocoa. Someone decapitated Andy, and I have to repair him. Not nice. Usually it's Buck who does that sort of thing, though if Cocoa thought it might be a squeaky toy, she would move heaven and earth to find and "kill" the squeaker. Anyway, they've been put away. After I fix Andy I'll put them where the dogs can't reach.
These are two photos that Scottie took and that I really like. To the right of these is a sketch of my father done by a buddy of his while they were under fire at Anzio Beach in WWII. A steady enough hand in that circumstance to draw and a calm enough brain to capture a darned good likeness - amazing! The chair used to be in our bedroom in San Diego covered in a denim fabric that had seen better days and was called "Mousse's chair" 'cuz our old dog loved to sleep in it. We had it recovered while living in New Mexico. Memories. . . .


And THIS is my favorite piece of current art. I call it "Footprints on Tabletop". It's by Ellie Cat, using easily available dust. I guess we'd have to call it a performance piece as it's being constantly destroyed by a less than appreciative audience and just as constantly recreated by the artist.