If only...

...we could all do this. Wouldn't that be nice?? Lounging carelessly on the nice, soft blanky on the sofa. Not a care in the world. Your snuggle buddy right beside you. Knowing that when you wake up, there will be a plate of food ready for you in the kitchen. Knowing that all of your needs would be met at your demand.

Yep, it would be nice. If only...

Precarious Position

Ever feel like that? Like you are in a precarious position?


Webster's definition or precarious:


pre-car-i-ous -adjective
1. dependent on circumstances beyond one's control; uncertain; unstable; insecure: a precarious livelihood.
2. dependent on the will or pleasure of another; liable to be withdrawn or lost at the will of another: He held a precarious tenure under an arbitrary administration.
3. exposed to or involving danger; dangerous; perilous; risky: the precarious life of an underseas diver.
4. having insufficient, little, or no foundation: a precarious assumption.



Precarious. I think I'm feeling like that right now. I have several other friends that are feeling the same way. I think of Ben, Jen, Chase, JB, and many others, all dealing with life issues that fit within this definition.


Gracie, bless her heart, doesn't seem to know that her basket could fall at any minute. She's completely content, unaware that she's on the verge, the very precipice. No, all is well in her little world. But, in fact, she's in quite a precarious position. And oblivious to it.

You know, I think that those of us that are feeling like we are in a precarious position, would probably much prefer to be completely oblivious of it. I envy Gracie right now.

Think About It

Written VERY early last Saturday morning...

I find myself once again up too early on a Saturday morning watching Marty Stouffer's Wild America. I was caught up in the story of the mating rituals of the Spruce Grouse, also known as the Franklin's Grouse.

The male grouse spends it's days jumping from trees in what is called "flutter flights" trying to get the attention of a female. One male jumps and flutters to the ground, making as much noise as possible and clapping its wings up over his back making a sound like a gunshot, then another male does the same. All the while, they are being observed by a female. After a period of days, or even weeks, the female finally makes her choice and joins the male in his territory.

At this point, the combs over the male's eyes begin to swell with blood and turn bright red. After a few more days of him performing a strutting fan tail dance, they finally mate.

Now, here's the kicker. After all the effort the male has put in to attracting the female, once they mate, she goes back to her own space, makes a nest, has the babies and raises the brood on her own. If she happens to wander back into his turf, he will run her off.

It is interesting to me how creatures of all species have certain parallels. Think about it. A male going out of his way to show out, impress and win the admiration and love of a female, only to leave her on her own when he succeeds in winning the prize.

That's not to say that all males are prone to this behavior, but look around. There are an awful lot of females raising broods on their own...

Negligent

I have been seriously negligent in updating my blog while vacationing and holidaying (not a word, but it works for me). This is partly due to lack of time and partly due to lack of an inspiration, but I'm going to try to do better this week.

Something hit me last night that I wanted to blog about, but I don't remember what it was. I need to start writing those things down.

So...I'll try to make up for my negligence this week.

Deaf Innocence

I find myself feeling the need to have a picture to motivate writing a blog post, but after I found myself crying tears of relief hearing that my little Scooter was fine after getting "fixed up", I pulled out my camera and started looking at all the pictures I have taken of her. In this particular one, I got totally facinated by how pink her little nose and ears and feeties were. You would have thought I was stoned or something (I wasn't) the night I took a close up of her gripping her little toes.

The picture is a little blurry, but you get the idea.

She is totally, completely white, with beautiful blue eyes. She is also totally, completely stone deaf.

Having a deaf kitten in the house has been a little bit of a challenge, as in when she jumps up on something she shouldn't and can't hear me yell "NO!", but it's also been a joy. I've learned to get her attention by stomping on the floor to cause a vibration that makes her look at me. Then I can shake my finger and she's learned that means "NO!" Of course, I still say it, even though she can't hear it.

I watch her facination with things that are moving, that she can't hear. Her eyes convey such trust and pureness, and when she looks at me, I can't help but wonder what is going thru her mind.

Which brings me to my point. Until this morning, this little deaf baby has only seen probably 3 human beings in her short life. Suddenly, her most trusted human has put her in a little black carrier, transported her in a car and deposited her with strangers that begin sticking things in her and putting her back in a cage. All of this in complete silence. The vet says I'm probably taking this a lot harder than she is. By tomorrow after I'm able to bring her home, she'll forget all about it. I hope so. I would hate to think that I've caused a little being so much trauma. Of course, it would be far worse to have allowed a deaf cat to get pregnant and have kittens she wouldn't be able to hear call for her, and would have a huge chance of being deaf themselves.

I expect tonight to have Ringo fussing at me, wondering where she is since they've become fairly regular snuggle buddies.

The one to the left was made when she was a bit younger.

The one below was made a couple of nights ago.

At least I can talk to him and tell him she'll be home in the morning. And he'll give me the slow blink that I know means he loves me and believes that all will be well.

When I do get little Scooter home. I will do everything I can to reassure her that this is her PERMANENT home, that she is safe, and she is loved.

She can then resume her innocent life in complete silence.

Ch-ch-ch-ch-changes

I've always been facinated by the way an anole (lizard) can change colors based on it's environment. The other day, I was fortunate enough to be able to capture images of one going from bright green to brown as a result of encountering fresh pine straw.

How cool would it be to be able to change color just to blend in? Then again, would you really WANT to live a camouflaged life? Of course, now that I think about it, I guess some folks do. I don't know. Kind of thought provoking, though...

They're BAAACCKKKK

I wrote the other day about the little lizard paradise being wiped out and replaced with the skimpy pansies. I didn't see any lizards at all for two days. I finally saw two yesterday and then got this pic this morning of a little guy perched on the handrail looking down into what used to be heaven with a very puzzled look on his face. I can imagine him thinking "Crap! It looks even worse from up here!"

Maybe he had climbed up the post to get a better look to see if there was anything left of his magnificent kingdom. No such luck.

The next time I see him (assuming it's the same one), he is now down amongst the pansies surveying the damage.

Bless his heart. He's thinking "Good grief! Now WHY did they have to go and do this?? With this much space between the flowers, I'll spend more time brown than I do green and I HATE being brown!"

Well, of course, that might NOT be what he's thinking at all, but I'll bet it's something along those lines.

Your Caption Here...

Being up a little early (actually WAY too early) after live blogging the election last night with my MRBA buds, I find myself wanting to do a little blog myself.

I decided to look through my camera for a picture to inspire me this morning. I've had this one in there for a while, just waiting on the right moment to bring it out. I do believe now is the time.

So, WHAT exactly is happening here?

You know how you feel when someone takes a picture of you when you least expect it and you are making some awful face? Yep. Or when you are taking a bite of food and your mouth isn't quite closed? Yep. Of course, Gracie wasn't eating, but if she were able to talk, she'd probably be cussing me BIG TIME for showing this pic of her in public. Talk about your unflattering faces! This would be one of those.

Let's see. She could be saying...

WHAT???

Or, perhaps...

NAAAAA

I don't know. I am not that creative. I can't think of anything cute to use as a caption for this picture. What say you?

Paradise Lost...

Lizard paradise, anyway...

Overnight, the lush, beautiful jungle inhabited by a number of anoles has been transformed into a somewhat bleak place with a few scraggly pansies.

Yes, I know that at some point over the winter, the pansies will fill out and be pretty, but in the meantime, I can't help but be a little sad for the little lizards who lost their beautiful home.

I think it was too soon to dismantle the flower bed, but apparently our landscaper felt differently. So we've gone from this:

To this:

Kinda sucks, don'cha think?

Happy Halloween!

In keeping with the spirit of the day, I thought I would post the pic I've been using this week in lieu of my usual avatar, the happy frog.

This is a Surinam horned frog. A quote from the article I read: "Surinam horned frogs are also known as pac-man frogs, due to their large mouths which are 1.6 times wider than the length of their body. They are mostly nocturnal and live among the leaf litter in the rain forest area of the Amazon Basin of South America. This species are avid feeders, employing a sit-and-wait ambush on their prey."

This one is doing a good job in the "sit-and-wait" category.

I guess the reason this particular article caught my attention when I saw the picture posted on Yahoo the other day was that they said the Bronx Zoo gives pumpkins to animals every year "as a form of behavioral enrichment to stimulate animals both mentally and physically".

Now, I'm all about loving critters, but I can honestly say I would have NEVER thought about giving a pumpkin to an animal to "stimulate" them either mentally or physically. This led me to do a little research. I googled "zoo pumpkins to animals" and was surprised to find a number of zoos that give pumpkins to their animals every year, particularly to elephants, chimps, gorillas, bears and such. They even have an annual "Pumpkin Bash" event at one zoo in Washington.

I've read about several other zoos that have assorted pumpkin smashing events and the animals seem to get into it.

I love the hippo!

The bear seems to be getting into it as well.

And you have to admit, this does look like a mentally and physically stimulated frog.

Someone out there decided "Hey, you know what? I'll bet if we give pumpkins to the animals, they will be mentally and physically stimulated!"

Or, it was the result of one of those studies the government spends a gazillion dollars on.

Either way, all over the world right at this moment, there are a lot of behaviorilly enriched, mentally and physically stimulated animals!

Happy Halloween!

If I were a lizard...

...I'd want to live here.

We have a flower bed outside my office that is absolutely bursting with colors. Over the summer, I have watched the lizards hoping through the leaves and blossoms, happily munching on insects.

I've often looked into the flower bed and watched a tiny lizard jump from one plant to another, grab a tiny insect and munch it down. I got to thinking what an amazing place this must seem to such a tiny creature.

I mean, seriously, how cool would it be to come out of your tiny little egg and find yourself in an awesome, flower-filled jungle, with very little chance of a predator finding you and making lunch out of you?

No cats around to bite your tail off. No real competition for food other than your little brother and sister lizards. You'd have it made!

Then, I get to thinking, how weird is it that I think about what a lizard feels and thinks? Is it strange to apply human thoughts and feelings to a tiny little amphibian? Maybe. But it is who I am and what I do. Some people find God in church and in other things. I see God in every blossom in the bed. In every little lizard that hops freely between the plants, living his ultra secure life in such a beautiful place.

Quite frankly, I think more people should take the time to do a little lizard watching. Maybe they would appreciate God's work just a little bit more.

What's wrong with my legs?

Hi. My name is Trip. Since my Aunt Dhcoop doesn't seem to be in the mood to write, I hijacked her blog for a bit.

I'm not sure if my momma was a labrador or a Jack Russell Terrier, but I know that she was one or the other. The people at PetSmart told my female human that much. But they didn't really know much else about me.

If my momma was a lab, then my dad was a very ambitious Jack Russell. If my momma was a Jack Russell, then my daddy probably should be jailed as a pervert. For that reason, I like to believe that my mom was the lab and my dad was overly ambitious. That makes me feel better.

One way or the other, I was "shorted" in the leg department. I have bulk. Not much on speed. But, by golly, I am SOLID. No, I don't know my heritage, but I'm one tough mamma jamma. See me here putting some of my mojo on my puppy niece Meg?

I may only be 5 months old, but this 7 month old British Fox Red Lab puppy ain't got NUTHIN on me!

My Aunt coop laughs at me. She thinks my legs are funny looking. Hey, it's not my fault! I did the best I could with what I had to work with! And, what really matters is I can run with the big dogs.

Little Pitchers...

You know the old saying, little pitchers have big ears? Well, they also have big eyes and big brains and big mouths. I looked that saying up this morning because it kept coming to mind after my experience Saturday night. It basically means that people should be careful what they say around children. The saying comes from the resemblence of the ear to the handle of a pitcher.

Saturday night in the kitchen at my mother's house, I was busy doing something at the sink and listening to my son-in-law proudly talking about how my youngest granddaughter (7) told him the other night how she would be able to read the book he was reading by the end of the year. He's currently working on a 500+page book of the writings of Edgar Allan Poe. Apparently, her teacher had told the class that by the end of this year, they would be able to read anything their parents could read.

Well, the book I am currently reading was laying on the bar. It is the autobiography of Saul Hudson, or "Slash" for those of you familiar with Guns N Roses (my daughter had a huge crush on Slash when she was a teen so I wanted to read the book). I was busily slicing bell peppers and onions and heard the Peanut say "what's this word?" and my SIL answered "weed". Apparently she pointed to another word and I heard him say "bust". "weed bust". I whipped around and realized the Peanut had the book "Slash" open in front of her and she was intently trying to read it. Holy Smokes! I've read enough of the book to be thankful that she wasn't pointing to a four letter word that begins with "f", and I don't mean food.

I quickly said, "Peanut, let me find you a better book to read" and went running down the hall to my father's closet that also serves as a library. I came back with The Adventures of Peter Rabbit and The Complete Tales and Poems of Winnie-the-Pooh. We went and sat on the couch and she started reading Peter Rabbit to me.

Did you know that in something like the third paragraph of that story the momma rabbit is warning the kiddy rabbits not to go into a certain garden because their daddy did and had an "accident" and is being baked in a pie?!? Damn! I didn't remember that AT ALL! I don't want my little Peanut reading about traumatized little rabbits whose dad was eaten in a pie!

About that time, Dad said supper was ready so we put the book down. Thank goodness for small favors, huh?

Anyway, the whole Peter Rabbit thing was just an aside because it freaked me out just about as much as her saying "weed bust". But the real moral of the story is, not only do you have to be careful about what you SAY around children, but be careful of what you leave lying around when they are in an extra hungry mood for reading material.

I can just hear the little Peanut in class today asking her teacher, "What is a weed bust? I was reading my Grandy's book this weekend..."

Photography at 50

I wondered what would happen if I took a picture going up the Natchez Trace at 50 miles an hour with the window rolled down. This is the result. It is an area of the Trace that is a swampy area where I believe a tornado went through a few years ago and I've always found the trees to be interesting looking. My analysis is that it would be best to come to a complete stop before taking a shot.

The drive up to KO was absolutely beautiful this morning. There were several times I wanted to stop and take pictures, but didn't. I was facinated by the steam coming off the big rolls of hay in the fields; the red tints on the east side of the cypress trees near the reservoir; the lone great blue heron squatting in the shallows of the water. All were beautiful, but for now, are pictures in my mind.

Super Scribbler

I've been tagged for this award by MrsH, who authors Mrs. H. At Large. I must say this is quite an honor. Unfortunately, most of the people I would choose to tag have already been tagged, so I'm going to have to change the rules a bit.

I am not nearly the writer that some of my fellow bloggers are, but I do enjoy having a place to express my feelings and show off pictures from time to time.

If Mrs H had not already tagged Jen and Johnny Beaver, I would have picked them as two of my choices to tag, and certainly Mrs H herself since I enjoy reading her blog as well. Others already tagged that I read and enjoy are Stacey, Supermom, Clucky, Watercolor and Old Bopper. But, since they have already received the award, I choose:

1. Cardinallady. Our resident reporter blogger. Cardinallady is a writer by profession and you can tell it on her blog. Her posts are heartfelt and sometimes invoke memories I haven't thought of in years.

2. tgtank. I've never met her, but I feel like she's an old friend. Her blog, Tanks Getaway, is filled with her thoughts and feelings and pictures of her beautiful girls.

3. Mrs. Jones. Now, this one is really special. I've never known such an articulate feline. Her blog, Feline Observations, contains brief, concise posts about what's happening in her life with her humans and other creatures. And, she types really well for a cat!

• Each Superior Scribbler must in turn pass The Award on to 5 most-deserving Bloggy Friends.
• Each Superior Scribbler must link to the author & the name of the blog from whom he/she has received The Award.
• Each Superior Scribbler must display The Award on his/her blog, and link to This Post, which explains The Award.
• Each Blogger who wins The Superior Scribbler Award must visit this post and add his/her name to the Mr. Linky List. That way, we'll be able to keep up-to-date on everyone who receives This Prestigious Honor!
• Each Superior Scribbler must post these rules on his/her blog.
  

An OH SH!T Moment?

Sure looks like it.

Gracie just can't quite bring herself to like Scooter, although she is much more tolerant of her than she was when she moved in with us. But when Scooter jumped up on to Gracie's "spot", she didn't like it very much. Since Scooter can't hear ANYTHING, no amount of growling or hissing gets the point across that she isn't welcome. And, bless her heart, Scooter wasn't trying to start any trouble, she was just jumping up there to say Hi! to Gracie. Not good.

I loved the picture because it captured the very second before Gracie hissed and flew off her perch to her chair, where she settled down and stared at me like 'WHY DID YOU LET THAT CREATURE INTO OUR HOME" and 'I'M NOT HAPPY WITH YOU AT THE MOMENT". See the look?

I get that regularly.

Confederate Rose

I was up at my parents when the confederate rose in their yard was in all it's glory. I took a ton of pictures and created a screensaver for them. I used this pic to set as the desktop wallpaper on their computer. They were thrilled.

I believe they got their original cuttings of this plant from Big Sis in the UAE (well, the cuttings didn't come from the UAE, but from Crystal Springs when she was living there).

ANYWAY, I decided this morning to post a few of the pics so that Big Sis could see them. She'll be home in a few weeks and I'm SOO EXCITED! I can't wait to see her. But Big Sis, until you get home, here's a couple more of the shots I took of the confederate rose.

The Great Pumpkin likes Cats

I took this pic last night when Ringo and Scooter decided to take a prolonged nap on my leg. I held the camera way out and thought a got a pretty good shot. Upon looking at it today on the computer, I realized that it looks like a deflated Great Pumpkin is about to eat my cats.

Ok, I know I'm a little heavy, but please keep in mind this shirt is HUGE so it's not all me under the scary face.

They were just so precious, I couldn't resist!

This is my favorite of my snuggle-buddies.

I want to be...

Gracie. That's what I want to be today. Sprawled out on the hassock (not calling it an ottoman for certain reasons) with my frog blanket.

Yep, Gracie has it made. 24/7 food and water. Comfy places to lounge. A human to hold her and stroke her when she wants it, but not when she doesn't.

Yessiree. I'd trade places with her today. Wonder if she could get my desk cleaned off?

The Frog Farm

One of the highlights of my visit to the Crystal Springs Fall Flower Show Saturday, in addition to seeing several MRBA, was finding a little booth marked Frog Farm. There was a really nice lady there that handed me a card describing "Frog Farm Collection"


"Finely sculptured by hand one at a time, each piece is a true work of art and one of lasting delight. But art is a very personal thing, so, at the Frog Farm Studio/Garden, we make many colors and three sizes available for your specific taste. That way, every folk art sulpture is an original piece created for you. For a look, come to: The Frog Farm Sculpture Garden, where frogs, other amphibians, birds, and reptiles frolic. Located in: Historic Harriston, 186 Old Highway 61, 2.5 miles off Highway 61 South, Harriston, MS 601-786-6448"

She also had a photo album of this place and there were some really cool extra large sculptures of frogs, snakes, birds, etc. I think it would be worth a road trip some day.

This little bugger caught my eye and I had to have it:

I think he looks really cute sitting amongst some bird sculptures I have (and right next to the oil lamp I bought from Watercolor's father at Chimneyville last year)

I love frogs, but don't actually "collect" them, although I do have friends occasionally give me frog things. This is just a piece of frog art that I found cute and I wanted it. It'll be a reminder of a beautiful day when I got to meet new friends and enjoy this incredible weather.

WHA?

Do you see cute gourds painted like pumpkins with little ghosts on top? Well, that's not what one little old lady saw when she looked at them.

My friend, Bellasera, and I were having lunch at the Crystal Springs Flower Show yesterday. Bellasera had bought a cute little painted pumpkin (actually, I think it's the one on the far left in the pic) and I made a picture of this little grouping.

The ladies at the table were admiring B's pumpkin so I pulled this pic up on my camera to show them. One of the ladies said "looks like Ku Klux Klan on top" or something to that effect. I'm not sure her exact words since my brain froze when she said KKK.

WHA??? How in the world would ANYONE's mind go to the KKK when looking at a cute gourd painted like a pumkin with a ghost on top? It just blew me away.

Anyway, I had a great time seeing my parents and Crystalbutterfly, and meeting Bellasera, clstigger and mickeymouselover for the first time. The flowers were absolutely beautiful, as was the weather.

Bellasera and I weren't really sure how to react to the lady's comment. Maybe she has some memory that I can't even comprehend. Hell, I don't WANT to comprehend it. Bless her heart.

Night Visitor

When I first moved to this little house in the country, I adopted an outdoor stray cat, which meant I was leaving food outside, while continuing to feed my kids indoors.

One night, I heard a commotion on the side porch and heard what sounded like the plate falling from the table I had been feeding Jewel (the stray) on. Sure enough, I went out the back door and saw a young possum coming around the corner headed to the back porch. I watched him proceed to climb up my fishing rod (he was fairly small) on to a table. I had just cleaned the litter box earlier and the double bagged doody was sitting on that table to be later taken to the garbage. The little booger started fondling that bag and I thought Oh no you don't! I'm not going to be cleaning up the mess you'll make when you tear this bag open! So I walked on out to the table. Now, keep in mind that possums don't have great vision. The little one didn't even see me coming. He had a hold on the bag and I reached over and grabbed the handles and pulled. After a brief game of tug-of-war with this little possum, he finally looked up and saw me. You've never seen how fast a possum can run when they want to! He flew off that porch in a flash and I took the doody bag on out to the garbage.

Well, anyway, it seems that the little possum has been thriving on the Purina Cat Chow I provide.

He looks quite healthy. Shiny coat and all. I ran him off three times last night and finally gave up.

Oh well, all God's creatures gotta eat, right?