Pandepression repeat

I've moved this post to another URL. The original got linked to a community listserv that is looking for Timmick, so I've remove the political rant from that one. :)  Sorry to subscribers who are receiving a notification on this content twice! 

I simply have to revive this blog. I'll be moving over to WordPress soon, where there are more options. I've been paying for an acccount for over a year and haven't done a damned thing with it. In the meantime, I--like most of the rest of the world--have been wrestling with pandepression (the blahs caused by social distancing). And based on the lack of interaction on my Facebook group, I'm guessing a lot of cat-parents are as well. 

Lucky us, that we do have our cats to make us smile wanly. Other petless people aren't so lucky, and there are a lot of pet-loving people who are petless by circumstance, not because they want to be. Seniors in assisted living, younger folk stuck in no-pet apartments who don't dare move right now, and people who just don't dare take on the responsibility of a pet in this not-so-secure world we live in now. These petless pet lovers used to get their fix at the local shelter or their friends' homes. Those options are more limited now.

So I understand I am, actually, blessed.

Nonetheless I still have the blahs. Even with this:

Yesterday was my birthday (58 years) and last night, Ruth Bader Ginsberg died. And I know Trump/Mitch will shove for an immediate replacement to push the balance of decisions away from the 50/50 it currently is at. Even though Mitch said this would be an abomination during the Obama administration.

Before she's even cold in the grave. Am I right? Let me know.

At that moment, I had been scrolling around Etsy looking for "blue ring" to buy myself a "less-than-$20" birthstone ring as a selfie-birthday present  (I'm big into cheap sterling silver stackable rings--pretty much the only jewelry I wear since I keep the same set of studs in my ears 24/7 and don't wear necklaces because....kittens).  When I saw RBG had passed I changed my search to "black ring." A mourning ring. Because I need something I see every day that reminds me that...

...America is dying. The US is burning. My planet is dying. Kindness is dying. We were once seen as the guiding light to freedom, and now the rest of the world is sad and appalled at what we've become. 

delete..delete...delete...

When I was a kid, I used to wonder how the chance of life had made me lucky enough to be born in the USA.

Surprise! That comes back to haunt you.

(Post note: this is not about wanting presents for my birthday: this is about the reality that one day presents have to not be important): BTW young readers, there will come a point in your life where you will no longer receive birthday and Christmas presents--not a one, unless you buy yourself one. Loved ones will leave you or die, or you'll die first. You'd better be centered enough to deal with the fact that holidays needs to have meaning that isn't about "you" and that Christmas REALLY needs to be about the spirit of the season, because you'll wake up in the morning and it will be nothing special unless you've made it special...all on your own

If you are wondering why I'm feeling so dark, a second cat has been lost by an adopter this year. And I'm really not sure I can deal anymore.

Timmick came to me as a kitten from a neighbor. He was hideously ill. We had his eye removed due to that illness. He was stuck in a cage for a long while to recover, and single kittens have behavioral issues. He was a bit of an asshat, and needed a understand guardian. His new guardian is a great guy but you know? Normal caring people just don't get how paranoid you need to be to keep a cat inside a house.That's why there are so many lost cats. And that's why the world shouldn't be so judgy when someone loses a cat. Because cats are smart and stealthy and don't know that "inside is safe and outside isn't." So the smartest person in the world can lose a cat.

Timmick either pushed out a screen or got out through a basement access door. Now he's lost in Ithaca on Cascadilla Street and I'm wondering if I should keep even doing rescue. Not because so many of my cats are lost, but because the few who are lost destroy my soul. Because every day and every night I think about them out there in the cold, without food.

Every time one gets lost, I find myself less willing to do what it takes to find them again. It just sucks the energy from my soul. 

And that's how I see our country. We are all so tired, we aren't willing to do what it takes to save her. I'm fucking shocked by how many of my friends say "I don't dare put out a Biden sign because I'm worried about retaliation." FUCKING WHAT? We are appalled by people getting KILLED or DYING from Covid and that's why we want a different president. We say we are shocked by Black citizens being killed due to racist profiling. But some of us won't put out a freaking LAWN SIGN while others are risking their lives in protests (or just Driving or Walking While Black in their own neighborhood).

Honestly?

My friends who say they aren't willing to believe in COVID-19 aren't rich, but they ARE relatively comfortable. What does it take for you to believe? Someone dying? And my friends who say they are voting for Trump...I get it. This is pretty much unreal to them (meaning, it hasn't impacted their lives, not that they don't care). They fear what they've been TOLD will happen (guns being taken away, Antifa invading their homes) and don't believe the results of what is actually happening (climate change, skyrocketing national debt; no ACA = no health care for lots of people  you know; no payroll tax = no Social Security). But wait until someone calls you and says "Your mother/father/sister is dying and we need to authorize $$$$$ and decisions on life and death." And it all falls on your love AND your pocketbook. Or wait until that mammogram comes out with red flags and suddenly you are paying $4000 for cancer screening. Or wait until you get the call that your sister has been involved in a devastating car accident and you are driving toward a hospital wondering "does she have insurance? I think she does? What if she doesn't? Could I sell my home?"

Yup. Those are real thoughts.

Imagine if you had to pay for all of that yourself? No, really, think about tomorrow getting a call that a member of your family is on life support and you have to sign the paperwork OR say "oh so sorry...not my problem."

I have a friend who said he doesn't believe COVID-19 is a threat because he hasn't seen anyone ill or dead (our area is rural and does a good job with masks, but Google Lighthouse Baptist Church and see how we've screwed things up). Does it really take your girlfriend dying before you'll believe this is all real?"

And for those of us who won't even put up a sign? I understand. I get that reluctance. But we are at a tipping point. And if you aren't willing to put a sign in your front yard, I'm not willing to watch you gripe on Facebook with a privacy setting for "friends/not aquaintances."

I deal with this on the micro-scale with cats. I've dealt with this on the macro-scale with family. And I know people reading this can share similar stories.

All this from one lost cat, and the death of a woman I've never met.

I love you Timmick. And I'm sorry RBG, that you were not able to die with the peace that you deserved.

Lots of rescue...notsomuch blogging. Sorry for not holding up my end of the deal!

Wow. What a year it's been, huh?

I've been a remote worker for 16 years now, so you'd think all this stay-at-home wouldn't get me down.  I was surprised to find myself staring into space with a big case of the lows, that I'm only just starting to shake off. No surprise...so is everyone else (feeling low, that is). 

I've experienced some unexpected perks in higher adoption inquiries and now finally the spay/neuter clinics have opened. The first three colonies I've helped have come attached to freaking awesome people. Bam, bam, bam...all the cats fixed, kittens either here or sent off to their local shelter for socialization and adoption. And donations for the American Cat Project. 

Finally getting out to deal with some cats perked me up a bit. I had been having the WORST problem with the sleepies. Not "OMG I'm so worn out" just "OMG why CAN'T I stay AWAKE!" I was beginning to wonder if it was due to one of the herbal teas I'd been drinking (I had to leave coffee behind...so sad...) but once I was up and about for something other than work--which I love, btw---the sleepies seem to have left me. It helps to have these little guys staring at me from the three-level cage in my great room.

Before all this COVID stuff went down, I'd felt so great arranging to attend two conferences, HSUS EXPO and the Cat Writer's Conference, on my own dime (versus work). I'd signed up to volunteer for HSUS, which brought the conference cost down, and I found myself a cheapo flight and an even cheaper hotel. I'd really looked forward to seeing all those folks I miss since leaving Petfinder and being able to attend conferences without any corporate obligations (woot!). 

Part of me wonders if I jinxed the whole world with COVID by actually arranging for a vacation for the first time in well over a decade! Luckily, all my costs were reimbursed by the conferences, hotels, and Delta Airlines (thank you, Delta!) because throwing all of that money out the window would have been painful.

It has been a bit of a culture shock, no longer traveling for work. I've discovered flowers that blossom along my road that I'd never noticed before. I have hanging flower baskets--because I'm home to water them. I'm slowly getting projects done than had been neglected for years. 

I have a garden! Raised beds! Yes, it took until just this week to get all four of them in, but I'll have some produce this year and hopefully lots next  year. Being able to eat Romaine lettuce again without worrying about a recall has been a small happiness.

And I have bears. Ummm...more to come on that. And if this photo seems like the bear was awfully close, it's because she WAS. And awfully relaxed. Apparently my side yard gives off safe bear vibes.

Since it's past solstice, it's now all a downhill slide of shorter days until winter---that's one reason why I'm back on the blog. It's going to be a semi-lonely year for all of us, so I figured it was time to get on here again. A lot of you have been very generous to me and in return I ought to be sharing what the hay is going on. 

Kittens. Cats. Bears. Projects. Oh...and cooking! Is anyone else cooking?

A victim of social distancing: the coffee bar

Some of you may remember we used to have "Coffee and Kittens" on Sundays. This was more popular back when we were in the barn--for some reason people seemed more comfortable grabbing coffee and cookies out there. In the house, visitors are more likely to say "Thank you but no thanks." I assume it's politeness--not wanting to be a bother. If they only understood I'd feel better if they drank the coffee I'd already made and the cookies I bought for only them! Once people left, I sadly poured the untouched coffee down the drain.

I'd planned to move the tall coffee cabinet from the barn into the upstairs of the house where the cats are, thinking that if people had the food near them, without me hovering, they'd be more likely to make themselves at home.

But that's not an issue any longer. No one is going to consume food here for months due to COVID-19, even if they do visit a cat.

It occurred to me I probably should put the coffee bar away. It was a rather sad half hour, throwing some things out, and finding a home in my overpacked cupboards for the bowls. Luckily a volunteer couple had stopped by to see if the cats needed anything, and they were able to give a home to the box of untouched individual creamers that otherwise would have gone in the trash.

The kitchen bookcase used to be Fluffy's perch. I purchased it as a cat tree. When he slept there, the other cats all joined him, ranged across the shelves. Since he passed, the shelf beds were abandoned. I keep one bed on the bottom, but the rest of the piece has reverted to human use. What to put there now that the coffee bar is gone?

Books I need to read.

My unread books previously sat in an unruly pile. When I cleaned, they had to be moved from place to place. With them poised right in my face very day, perhaps they'll get read!

Once the weather warms up, my porch will be set up with two comfy chairs, 10 feet apart, for occasional visitors. While I've cut back almost entirely on my alcohol consumption, perhaps I could put a little wine bar out there with small single serving bottles of water and wine that visitors could help themselves to. They could swig right out of their bottle, then toss it in the recycling. So classy!

Is there anything anyone else has put away or changed, anticipating a quiet summer of social distancing?

Pepper and Timea check in, and food from Jo

It's spring in social isolation, but given that I've always been a remote worker in the boonies, less has changed for me than it has for others.

But because "others" are talking about deep home cleanings, getting organized, and pushing paperwork woes out of the way (those who aren't home-schooling, caring for other people in need, or recovering from COVID-19 that is), it can't help but rub off on me. Let's hope it sticks. I'd love it if this were finally the summer that all the big projects were completed, so that future summers I could spend less time scrambling around like an underprepared squirrel.

Jo (rescuer of Pepper and Timea) sent canned food again this month, which is always a blessing:

I emailed Nancy, P&T's adoptive mom, for photos to send to Jo, and she always comes through. Given that they are most-amusing cats, I'm sure she has a camera full of shots. Pepper has always preferred being under blankets rather than over them. Since Timea is his buddy, it's not hard to find him when he hides.

Laundry-snoozing is a traditional cat pastime that Pepper didn't get to experience here.

To date, Pepper and Timea have been my most "perfect" cats. They are amusing without being dangerous (no throwing themselves at my feet), neat (no shoveling of cat litter, no pushing of objects, no dragging cardboard shreds around the house), and have the perfect personality balance (Timea liking to be closer to you, Pepper more independent). They are BIG cats, so there is the issue of hauling them to the vet in crates, but that is offset by their beautiful presence. They also brought me a friend (Jo) and went to a friend (Nancy).

Pepper and Timea have been a perfect circle in my life.

It's important to have goals...

Pip and Widget Adopted!

Adios Lady! Smell my butt! Widget refused to give me a shot of his adorable face with his stripe between his eyes, he was so intent on sniffing his new home.

Pip, now "Tux" led with his nose:

They are living in a home with two cat-loving goldendoodles, and since these two are essentially fearless, there shouldn't be much problem. Like all of our cats, they are on foster-to-adopt and technically still belong to us until the adopter is sure they are a fit.

Have a great life you two silly boys!

It's Caturday!

It's fun to revisit previous rescued cats (in this case, Seven) to create some memes!

Thrifting

I love to poke around in thrift and antique stores, but I don't really have any need for more "things." In fact, I just gave away two vintage chairs to kitty-visitors. I'm tired of dusting around chairs no one will ever sit in, that could be treasured and used by someone else.

Sometimes some stilly treasure speaks to me. Something that I can find a use for. For example, this huge porcelain bowl. What do you think? Family-serve pasta? A bowl for a dry sink?

Nah....

When the cats are all out playing together, I have a "back-up food bowl" out for the gang. This was previously a spill-proof stainless-steel pan. However this bowl was just too huge, low, pretty, and cheap to pass up.

I took this photo as soon as I set it down. They all ran over to investigate, then gave disinterested sniffs when they realized it was just Purina Naturals Kitten Chow (not some beloved wet food), and wandered off to play teenage kitten games.

Cat quilts!

I've been trying to get out.

There are so many simple things I often say "no" too, just because they aren't in my usual frame of reference. When my friend K.C. sent around an email mentioning she had a quilt in the quilt show north of Ithaca, it occurred to me I should say "yes." After all, just because I have zero patience to craft something as beautiful as a quilt, doesn't mean a whole room of them wouldn't be fascinating. It's something I'd never done before.

Wow.

There really isn't any way to describe the range of styles, and the obvious art and effort that went into the show. We found K.C.'s very first quilt...and it won a category! Standing in front of a quilt, paying attention to all the individual steps that went into it to built it, draw it together, and finish it...it's mind-boggling. For those of us with the attention span of a fruit fly, it seems like a quiet, beautiful magical power.

What I hadn't expected were...cat quilts! Dog quilts! Horse quilts! I only took a few photos. You'll have to go to a quilt show on your own to discover for yourself.

Afterward four of us went out for dinner and a drink at the Dryden Hotel. It was a chilly, damp day made warm by something new (quilts!) and something old (friendship).

Is the plastic straw ban "green-posturing"?

This article thinks so.

I happened to walk by a display of paper straws in the dollar store. I bought a box to stash in my car. I'm not-so-good at remembering to refuse the plastic straw when it's thrust at me from the drive-thru window with my soda. When I remember, my brain rolls into thought about the plastic top that's still on my soda cup. Or, forbid! The entire cup is plastic! Refusing a straw does seem like a slightly pathetic gesture.

However, the silly straw debate got my brain rolling about other plastics I use. I regularly buy plastic spoons. I toss two spoons a day, after feeding cats who are not in the house (I use standard stainless spoons in the house). Why don't I wash these plastic spoons, and use them again and again? They are perfectly good. I have to wash and recycle cat food cans anyway. I've also been better about remembering to bring my reusable bags from the car when I go to the store.

Today, as I picked up cat litter at Walmart, I saw a display of Mainstays plastic dishes. 50 cents a plate. Nice and flat, with just a slight brim, sort of like a...paper plate. I used paper plates for ALL of my cats for their wet food. Lots and lots of paper plates. I probably spend (or donors do), a few hundred dollars a year on paper plates. One big stack is around $6.99--the same cost as 14 of these unbreakable permanent plates. Why don't I just buy these plates and wash them, instead of wasting paper, I wondered? I currently use some of my used paper plates to start fires in my wood stove, but I never use them all. The messiest ones end up in the trash.

The straw ban isn't about the straws in Western countries. It about starting a conversation. What can we do without? What habits can we change? The silly straw ban got me to wash and reuse my plastic spoons, finally start hauling my reusable bags into the store so I don't bring home more plastic or paper, and replace those piles and piles of paper plates with permanent ones.

Balloon launches are slowly being banned as well. We are slowly realizing that there are just some things we don't really need, no matter how pretty or convenient they are.

I do kind of wonder what will happen to all that other plastic dishware in Walmart. Will other people use and reuse them, as I am? Or will they pick it up because of the pretty colors (they have a range--teal, purple etc.) and toss them all after the holidays?

I don't have the answers. But paper plates won't be on my wish list for the Owl House kitties this Christmas. Thank you to everyone who kept me supplied all these years!

Using Canva for social posts

It really is rather appalling that I've been working in "marketing" for 15 years while my own social media presence and blog languish. I've had a free Canva account for over a year and I've failed to use it for any of my own work. I have no excuse now. There's no full-time job upon which I can foist my complaints about lack on time! I've even replaced my limping, half-functioning iPhone 6 for a Pixel 3a with a good camera.

Training my brain from an iPhone ("Everything is ON. If you don't want it, learn to turn it OFF!) to an Android ("Everything is OFF! I f you want it, track it down and learn to turn it ON!) has been somewhat frustrating. I know it's just a matter of time, and within a few months I will stopped cursing that I have to touch things three times on my Pixel that required only one touch on an iPhone. I happily remind myself the Pixel was $500 less than an iPhone. $500 is a lot of spays, neuters, and gasoline.

You'll be seeing more "shiny" Canva posts in the future, primarily for celebrations and public education. I'll always prefer to use straight photography for the day-to-day. I've also set up G Suite for the rescue, so Debra and I can share records online. Have I told Debra this? Nope. My communication skills in the real world are a bit rusty!

I'll get there.

Summer is finally started....wait, is it fall?

What incredibly glorious fall weather we've had. My brain says it's just September, but my calendar gives the truth: almost halfway through October! Soon snow will be drifting down, so I've had to write out a check list of everything that MUST be completed while the weather is still warm enough for painting, hauling, and building. On that check list is a "walk for Molly" each day. A walk for Molly is also a walk for me.

I've learned to get zen about the trash a handful of people throw out along my road. Mostly beer bottles and Dunkin Donut cups. It used to make me angry, but that ruined my walk. Now I just accept that while a few people are jerks, the majority of my neighbors are not. I am lucky to have this beautiful road. It's a very small thing to pick up what idle fools discard.

Also on the list is "find homes for kittens." I didn't plan to have visitors this weekend, but a couple who had stopped at one of my roadside furniture sales this summer pulled in the drive yesterday to ask if they could visit cats the next day. I was getting over a cold and wasn't really geared up for visitors, but I knew how comfortable this couple was to talk to, and these kitties need homes! So I said "yes."

They fell in love with not just one...but two! Pip and Widget! These two are neutered and vaccinated, but need to be micro-chipped. I'll call the vet Monday to get them in for a fast tech visit.

Widget's eye looks a bit winky because we were playing hard with them all with feather toys and probably got a bunch of feathers right in his face. His eye is fine now that he's relaxed.

I should be posting more often from now on. Yes, yes, I know I've said that before. However, I've started a part-time position with a marketing company, and I need to exercise what I'm learning. At first I'll just be letting things spill out of my fingers in order to get back in the habit of blogging. After a bit I'll go back to posting about my home on the Feral By Nature blog, and stick to cats here on this blog. However...kitten steps! I need to return to the blogging habit before focusing my storytelling.

The Weather Wizards claim it will be sunny again tomorrow! Let's hope they are accurate in their magical foretelling. I have trim to paint and wood to stack!

Back to what matters!

Perfect timing---my new/old vanity plate arrived! I had this plate back a decade or so ago when I had a commercial vehicle, and now I have it again, after stalking it on the DMV site hoping it would finally become available again. I'm starting out cautiously with spay/neuter, until I know what my short-term income will actually be. But with a house full of kittens and cats, there's plenty of places to start.

Ten of this spring's kittens went off to the Humane Society of Schuyler County's spay/neuter clinic with SOS, two weeks ago. Merlin, the last unfixed kitten, went this past Wednesday. He still isn't thrilled about being scooped up by strangers, so he went in a trap, and you can see just how pleased he was with that.

My next project is to get all the cat summary medical sheet into Google docs so it can be shared with Debra, and I'd also like to plan for a Cat Ladies Tea this fall, since I haven't held one of those in over fifteen years--they used to be quite fun. They were a good way to get usually-isolated cat folk out to visit with people who will empathize rather than judge--or at least with people who are be empathetic enough to hide the "judginess" since no two cat people agree on everything!

I have at least three people who reached out for help with cats, during my last month at work, to whom I haven't provided the best support. I need to reach out to them.

At the same time, I'm trying to slash back the jungle that has crept in on my house. My fire pit (which was once a raised bed garden and required a ton of work to remove) had become an ant-nest-filled with weeds, so I cleared that out and re-discovered how calming it is to build a small fire, grill some veggies, and enjoy a quiet evening.

I'm taking photos of my poor neglected house, which sort of reminds me of a longhaired cat that isn't entirely matted but definitely hasn't been combed as often as needed. I'm looking forward to posting some before-and-after photos before the end of fall!

A pause before a new start -- farewell to Petfinder

I was walking with Molly-the-dog just now, and the sky dropped me the gifts in the photo above. I think there's something symbolic about them...something that flies, and something that grows in the ground. And this is why.

I have not shared this here, but after 15 years of living my dream job, I have left Petfinder. Petfinder has made a long journey, from "LLC" to part of Discovery Communication, to part of the Purina family. When a company grows, it changes. And while it can be good for the company, and for associates for who thrive on that change and growth, it does mean that individual roles change. I was hired at Petfinder as a shelter support person, a mediator, a speaker, and a writer. I had team members who had the same job expectations, but each with a different emphasis. In a pinch, we could cover for one another, and we had insight into each other's roles. It's that mesh of different roles personally, and that awareness of my entire team's work, that I really love. That's less possible at a global company, where roles, by necessity, must be more individualized. Petfinder is doing new and amazing things, but at heart I'm just a cat lady and a critter-wrangler who helps people. I need that hands-on interaction, helping people.

Because I've hit the magic "55 yoa plus" I had an opportunity to "retire." This opportunity offered me a bit of breathing room to find a new job, I hope, back in the not-for-profit world. Stupid idea financially? Absolutely. Best idea ever, personally? Yup! I hope to take all those wonderful things I learned over the past 15 years and be able to use those skills a little closer to the ground. I certainly won't make as much income. But when you are offered an opportunity to remake yourself, it's worth serious consideration.

I considered...and jumped.

The hardest part was leaving six particular people, two of whom have been part of my daily life and work for fifteen years. Those two were with Petfinder far longer than I. "Remote" is absolutely the wrong word for working from home and the field versus an office. If you are truly an embedded "remote" person, you are always connected to your team. There is always IM, phone, and everything you see brought to amazing life online as the result of what you've done. When I dragged my Slack icon into the recycling bin and purposefully cut my connection with them...well, that's when I cried. I've been in touch with those six people, potentially, every hour of every day. There is no office door to close when you are part of truly great remote team.

It has been less that 48 hours since I closed the lid on my work laptop. The sense of relief has been overwhelming, at suddenly being able to concentrate just on my home, my family, my friends, my cats.

I scrubbed my shower for the first time in at least half a year.

When I replaced the garbage can liner, I took the can out and washed it.

I was able to say "Yes," to a short-notice request for lunch with my sister even though we live two hours from one another.

I mowed my lawn without panic, knowing I had time enough to get it done.

I put my roller bag luggage in the upstairs closet, for the first time in over a decade.

I took my dog for a walk with a sense of enjoyment, not requirement.

I sat on the floor with the foster kittens, and let them climb all over me, knowing that I could sit there as long as I liked.

I erased all the work projects off my white board, and replaced them with home, friends, and family projects.

And of course, I wrote this blog post. Without have to squeeze it in out of guilt that I had not posted in far too long a while.

It suddenly occurs to me that there are people who read this blog (or an earlier version of it) long before I even took the job with Petfinder in 2004. That thought reminds me that there is life before, and after, this amazing journey I've been on.

I realize this is just a short break before I have to find a way back to the income-bearing world. And I know no job is perfect--far from it.

But you only get one life. I probably have 15 years left to me that I can count on (I hope) to be able to make a difference for others, before I'll need to count on others to be there to make a difference for me. And I want to make those 15 years count.

Daylilies are flowering, sweet corn is in stores (but not yet on the local farm stands) and homeless kittens abound. It's July in central New York State. It's one of the busiest times of year, but also, because you work or play yourself to utter exhaustion, it's also a time when I find myself folding wearily into a chair at the end of the day. Hopefully the dishes are washed, cat boxes are scooped, and coffee is set up to perk itself the next morning on "automatic." That's a good day. And in that weary moment comes a time to think, because it's too hot to watch a movie or read a book. Hopefully a breeze has finally stirred up on the front porch while the bedroom cools off.

Summers past I might have scrolled through Facebook. But Facebook has turned into an old uncle or auntie, telling the same stories over and over to those people who are willing to listen to the same old stories. Facebook is turning me in an old auntie as well...only being spurred to post to say the same things again and again, the doom and gloom and anger, just sharing some meme, video, or friend's post that seems particularly eloquent. And the only people who see them are people who think the same things I do. We are all chattering away in a room with a closed door, sitting in our comfortable filter bubble, yelling back and forth at people who actually agree with us, all the while thinking we have the ear of the world.

Facebook makes me lonely, even though the usual faithful 30-or-so people see most things I post, and probably a 100 have me pop up in their social media lives weekly. Blogging make me less lonely, even though only a handful of people read my posts.

Perhaps its because a blog post sits in a permanent place. A blog is like a dog-eared book you can read over and over, with favorite parts you've forgotten about that you can surprise yourself with by clicking randomly on an archive date, just like grabbing a book and starting in the middle. Blog posts don't get shoved down fighting for breath under the escalating, accumulating vitriol of posts and memes throughout the day, forgotten until they reappear with a shout on Facebook Memories exactly a year later. "You have memories on Facebook!" Oh, wow, haha! I'd forgotten about that! Then "click!" You usher it away again and return to the latest infographic at the top of your feed.

I've Facebooked my life away. My little dog Molly is now ten years old, and all my plans of hikes in State Forests have come to naught. She sits on the porch and watches the world go by.

Granted, it hasn't all been Facebook. It has been work, and work travel. But things are about to have an interesting change.

Changes that are better fit for a blog, than Facebook.

Spring comes at unexpected moments

Today is Easter. Holidays seem less meaningful now that my family is less anchored, with the loss of my mom in February of 2017. Today launched as a chilly and dreary morning. I dropped off donations in Montour Falls at the Humane Society of Schuyler County, which I of course failed to photograph, even though I left them on the porch of their very cute Kitty Kaboose. Part of the donation was a number of beds that the Handmade House had donated to my rescue. This would have made a pretty picture to send onto them, but alas, I forgot.

When I have too much of a wonderful thing, I try not to stockpile--although the temptation is great. Instead, I try to share. I've discovered that if I keep things "just in case," treats or food expire, soft materials are found by mice, unused tools get shoved to the back of a cupboard...far better to share before things grow old and worthless.

The sun came out very late in the day, and I went out to check out the neglected Memory Garden. Last year we were hit by flood after flood, and I never did a thing with the Garden. As I picked sticks and old hosta stems from the mess that I'd like to return to beauty this year, I saw that beauty had decided to unfurl without my attention. Other than the many bleeding heart plants I was given by Nancy, my first "fosterer" and an adopter, I have no early spring flowers. At least, I thought I didn't. I'd forgotten I'd dug up some flowers from my mom's garden shortly after she passed away. Last year they were too small to flower. But this year:

Surprise is a good thing. It can drag you out of complacency. Pull you out of a funk of mediocrity. Humble you with the tiny green shock that life goes on--often beautifully--even when you are distracted by things you mistakenly believe are more important.

Thanks, Mom, for the wake-up call. You were always pretty good at that.

Waiting for Spring

Spring is coming....please?

Normally there is a tug of war at the beginning of March between Winter and Spring. This year, Spring is notably absent from the fight, although I understand she plans to make an appearance this week. The many recalls on veggies this year, especially lettuce, have made me determined to get a garden going. I have the raised beds provided to me by the closing of Totalily Water Gardens (their water lily tanks), and many walking neighbors who probably would appreciate some free veggies. Because I never buy seeds from the many seed catalogs that arrive here via postal mail and I purchase my starts from Mountaintop Greenhouses right down the road, I had to find a way to funnel my spring energy. I purchased a potting bench to serve as a rolling roadside vegetable giveaway cart.

I used to have a beautiful tile-topped stand alongside the road for veggies and other free stuff I regularly give away, until the day someone took the word "free" over-literally and took the entire farm stand. I'll lock the cart to the fence when it's out, and I'll bring it in at night, since that appears to be necessary.

I do need to sit down and put pencil to paper to plan the raised beds. Normally I plant haphazardly, and I always regret it. I'll need to order a truckload or two of topsoil to fill the beds. I should have done that, and mixed in some local manure compost, last fall. Last fall, however, our entire region was worrying more about flooding than planning gardens a half-year in the future.

When I have a garden I have a lot more contact with my neighbors. There is always more than I can eat, or weeks when I'm traveling when I need others to harvest, or food rots on the vine. When I'm out weeding, I'm actually outside when neighbors go for walks along our country road. I've been a virtual hermit other than work for the past year, and that needs to change.

Any suggestions on what to plant? I tend to stay away from things that are really cheap to buy (carrots for example). And not only do I dislike eggplant, it attracts flea beetles. I plant cherry tomatoes instead of full-sized ones because they tolerate my periodic absences. My house sitters don't seem to understand that when I leave full buckets of water near a container, that means to empty the ENTIRE bucket on the plants, not just part of it, so everything I plant needs to be able to deal with a few days without full watering. I think they worry about drowning the plants, not realizing that the containers drain so easily.

Kale grows long into the winter, and I prefer swiss chard to spinach when it comes to sauteed greens.

And of course: Flowers.

Suggestions are appreciated!

Yes, there will be cats posts soon. I took two wandering tom cats to the veterinarian today to be neutered. Of course, I forgot to get photos.

That Question: What do I want to look back on when I die?

It's a funny question, isn't it? It has entirely different impact, depending on how old you are, and how healthy you perceive yourself to me.

Now don't freak out, family and friends. I'm not poised to reveal some illness. This is just the "Question" OK? Thank you muchly; you can pour yourself coffee instead of alcohol now, 'k? No big announcements, here!

Nonetheless, contrary to popular opinion, there are far more life-reviewing milestones when you are older than when you were younger. A lot is made of turning 16, 18, 21, and 30 amid the younger years of your life. But nothing compares with things like job changes at mid-life, your first colonoscopy, the first loss of a too-young friend to an illness, caring for a family member during end-of-life, or just a sudden realization that if you learned you were going to die within six months, you wouldn't just be scared, you would be discontent with how you'd spent a big chunk of your life.

I was "lucky"--along with many thousands of others--to be involved in the huge animal rescue changes that took place during and after Hurricanes Katrina, Rita, and Wilma in 2005.


That I was privileged enough to be working for Petfinder, and the networking that took place after launch of the Animal Emergency Response Network (AERN) where lost and found Hurricane Pets were posted, is a milestone in my life I will always count in gold. Mostly I was simply riding a tidal wave created by others, but to look back and see all that has changed since that one year is overwhelmingly wonderful. Previous to 2005, national groups worked mostly solo, promoting their own work. After Katrina, national organizations, shelters, rescues, and even web resources, discovered that trying to go solo meant repetition and failure. A large number of partnerships--even the mere possibility of partnership--that exist now and save thousands of shelter and street animal lives each year--were born from the mud of those hurricanes, the sudden awareness of owners who risked their lives because they refused to leave their pets, the organizations who responded to help those animals requiring rescue, and organizations and volunteers who dedicated months and often years working to reunite left-behind animals with their displaced owners, or find those animals new homes.

As amazing and heartbreaking as that new beginning was, it was almost 14 years ago. There have been a lot of other "new beginnings" since then that I haven't contributed to as strongly as I would like. And many I haven't contributed to at all.

I'm 56. It occurs to me I only have probably only a decade when I can count on being able to scramble around under bushes, and up to two decades if I actually manage to take better care of myself than I am now (I spend the majority of my time on my butt behind a computer). For those of you in your 80s still hauling cat traps, all the more power to you---unless I make some life changes now, I won't be able to match your example.

Once upon a time, I went to conferences on my own, to learn. I looked carefully for a conference near me (there weren't a lot of them back in the 90s), and I spent my vacation and few available dollars to attend. I went to ever session I could fit in. Then I was lucky enough to get a job where I was sent to conferences to speak or exhibit, and I no longer had to sleep in my car or camp in a tent. However I had other networking responsibilities that meant I wasn't there just for my own edification.

Looking around now 15 years later, I see there are some funky, cool, and cutting edge conferences I'm missing out on, that I really need to attend if I want to stay on top of things. The Online Cat Conference was a real eye-opener. There are amazing people out there---some long-timers who have moved onto incredible new ventures, and a lot of brilliant newcomers.

So I'm off to The Acatemy Spring Symposium next weekend, flying solo, looking forward to wearing probably-non-work-appropriate cat lady clothes and keeping my ears pointed toward new ideas and the inspiration of other women and men working exclusively with cats.

If any readers are going, let me know! It's time to shake the dust out of the crannies of my brain. I want to start counting UP the years of my life by what I contribute, rather than counting down toward a rocking chair!

If you are feeling dusty like I am, here are some upcoming options

The Online Kitten Conference
The Petfinder Event Calendar

And if you are a writer, even if you aren't a CWA member, there's nothing more inspiring than the Cat Writers Association conference to open your mind to issues across all topics that relate to cats, including those beyond rescue.

Are there any I've missed? There were quite a few cat gatherings chatted up during the Online Cat Conference and I didn't get them all written down.

Saving Perla

Heads-up. "Perla" is not a cat.

Perla is a marimba. I saw her on a Facebook swap-and-save page, posted as a xylophone. By her surroundings, I worried that she might find her way onto a curb or in someone's garage for kids to play with until she fell apart.

Why would I care about a marimba? Gordon and Christy have been long-time Owl House friends. We worked together to get their two gorgeous outdoor ferals fixed, and their two kittens rehomed. They then adopted two kittens from me. They are both well-known musicians, and Gordon is a world-renowned marimba player and composer; he's probably the only "world-renowned" person I shall ever know, so I enjoy saying it.

Therefore my tug of conscience to save this instrument. I sent the photo over to Gordon to see if the asking price (quite low if it turned out to be playable, but too much if it was trash) was worthwhile, and he was curious about it too, so off I went to a foreclosure-purchased house full of trash and treasure, to pick it up. I almost balked because A) it was much smaller in person than I expected and I wondered if it was even a "real" instrument and B) it was COVERED in spider egg-sacs. Needless to say I did not leave it in my car overnight and she spent the night on the porch. The next day I cleaned off the worst of the webs and brought her inside.

She was dusty, watermarked, and dried out. The bars (keys) had been strung with electrical wire instead of cord.

Christy and Gordon came over bearing pizza. Gordon gifted me with three pairs of mallets, and explained that this marimba was likely from Guatemala. He told me what to purchase to restring it, and luckily I had purchased an acceptable oil to clean it up (Lemon oil, no wax). He explained all the odd pieces and parts. There were nine posts (through which the cord passes to hold the bars up) that needed to be replaced, so he took them home to cut new ones. Good thing, as that's not something I would have been skilled enough to do.

So I cleaned. And cleaned. And look!

I'm still cleaning, oiling, and tightening and replacing screws for the frame. Christy tells me Gordon has completed the posts, but we are due for a huge snowstorm this weekend, so Perla will have to wait a bit to be re-assembled and re-strung. Then we'll get to hear what she sounds like! She will of course be off-pitch. The bars could be sent off to be tuned ($60 an octave), and perhaps I will some day. Basically I just wanted to save her from a possible junking, and it will be fun to learn to play a bit and have her in the house, so I probably won't invest in that. Then one day I'll likely give her to someone who expresses interest in owning her. She's too small for anyone serious about learning to play, but for a child learning percussion or someone who just wants her in the living room, as I do, she would be perfect.

I'll be sure to post more when she is playable.

Here is a link to a very cool info-graphic (in Spanish) on this type of marimba.

Two great cat-friends passed over this month

One of the saddest parts of doing rescue is a result of the best part of doing rescue--you have so many cats you call your friends, even if they now live with countless other people. So you also have more cats who pass over, than the average person.

A lot of adopters stay in touch as supporters and friends themselves. I get updates on our cats' lives. I learn when cats grow old. And I also learn when they pass on. I'm always so honored, and sad, when an adopter lets me know. When they contact me before they have to let their cat go, it's especially touching, because I know there is a part of them that feels like they need to not surprise me with a sudden drastic sadness, or they just want to share their decision beforehand, to verify in their heart it is the right one.

Two weeks ago, Holly lost Jack. Jack, also called Luther-Jack while he was here back when we were Wildrun, was a special kind of cat. He lived here in the house with me as he grew up. He was a kitten from the litter of Espie, an abandoned cat found up on the hill-road behind me, brought to me by neighbors who then also became my friends. Four of Espie's kittens developed kidney disease, and have recently passed away at ages 11-12. Espie's last kitten, Emmi, is currently living on the East Coast, and I have word that her kidneys are doing fine.

Holly called me the night before she was taking Jack in to the veterinarian for his last trip, and she shared all sorts of stories about his life. The most important of these was how he taught her grandkids to be loving and gentle with cats. He was a great friend to her, and she couldn't imagine being alone without him, and asked to come visit that weekend to see if she could provide a new cat here with a home.

Getting calls like this are always bittersweet for me. I never want to hear about a cat passing, but learning that the cat had a wonderful life with an incredible person, and that that cat made a difference in people's lives, makes all the time, money, and heartache spent in cat rescue worth it.

As an extra awesome note, Holly orders her supplies from Chewy. If you are a Chewy.com customer you may know they have exemplary customer service, and even send Christmas cards. Did you know they also sometimes send roses? They reached out to Holly when they learned of Jack's passing, and even reimbursed her last purchase for him.

Holly did visit, and took Sham (now Libby) home with her. More on Libby in another post!

A few days ago, we also learned that Tiger Tom, a cat who had been with us during our Wildrun days for over five years before he was adopted, and had been growing feeble for quite some time, was also no longer comfortable. Georg let me know via Messenger. It has been wonderful watching Tiger Tom's life on Georg's Facebook page. Tiger Tom gave us a tiny bit of internet fame when Life With Cats featured his adoption story on Petfinder 15th Birthday.

Tiger Tom had a quiet life of naps, snuggling, play, and lots of knitting yarn (I'm always impressed with knitters who also own cats. how do you keep the two apart?)

On Facebook, Georg wrote:

Today, Tiger Tom passed away. A piece of my heart that walked around outside my body is now gone.

Goodbye, Jack and Tiger Tom. Thank-you for bringing Holly, Georg and Jazz into my life, and thank-you to your people for letting me know when your story closed.