Cherishing the Moments

This morning the dog named Louie is being exceptionally cute, sort of unusually cute.  In fact, he just chased the cat Sienna up and down the long hallway, barking, pausing for effect every so often, cocking his head this way or that, crouching low, tail wagging, while she puffed up her fur and her eyes grew as big as saucers.  It was a moment, sort of few and far between, but one I relish.  I know Gladys the cat cannot live forever, and seeing as this will be her 22nd year it's more important than ever that I know Sienna and Louie will get along really swell when she's gone.

Last night I decided to wash an absurd amount of accumulated dishes and utensils, bowls, glasses, you name it, and then cook some dinner (the one had to precede the other), and since I wasn't on my usual spot on the sofa Louie found himself out of sorts, without a spot.  Both cats in his bed in the kitchen, he wanted to join in, I could see it, and he pawed gingerly at the edge of the bed, so I plopped him in it, covering him a bit with the towel that he normally burrows under on week days while I'm at work.

Yes, it is cute!  I agree!  But it didn't last too long.  Gladys, bottom right, grew thirsty and left for a drink, never to return (we have a lot of beds around here and she opted for something a little more "exclusive"), and Sienna got up to see me once I'd left the room, leaving Louie to himself.  She eventually rejoined, and finally I had to inform Louie that it was in fact a weekend, and he didn't have to be there, he could be by my side, which he mostly 100% insists upon.  And all was right with the world.

There have been moments when Louie and Sienna have found themselves in the closest of proximity, and stayed that way, however briefly, and I try to capture them with the Android camera (why do I never use my digicam anymore?).

Hopefully it doesn't seem too strange to be planning for the demise of a loved animal companion, but I've lived with Gladys for nearly 22 of her nearly 22 years (I adopted her when she was just a kitten), and I know we all have to go sometime, her maybe sooner than later.  I'm glad Louie and Sienna will have each other, and yes, I'm already wondering if I'll adopt another cat for Sienna, or a dog for Louie, or both.  And if I can handle any of that!

Hopefully I have a lot more time to think about all of this!  And meanwhile, I love these moments...

When Irony Abounds

It's a beautiful day, truly, when viewed from inside looking outside.  One of those sort of perfectly sunny, blue sky, green pine needles glinting in the perfect golden light kind of days... and frigidly cold.  In fact, I can't see taking my laptop from my lap any time soon.  This thing is all that's keeping me warm, and yes, there's a heater, but apparently my thermostat does not agree with my assessment of the room temperature.

I spent some time on the LiveJournal earlier, tagging recent phone posts (aren't phone posts amazing?), and giving them subject lines, all for me, as it's been a private journal for a few years now, and wrote an actual post, like typing on the keypad and everything, and then did what sometimes I like to do, went back in the more than ten years of archives (!) and read what I was doing on this day or near to it many moons ago, 2007 to be exact.  Apparently there was a mob of Brazilian men living in the apartment below mine back then (something I prefer to forget), and they played dance mixes of top 40 tunes in the middle of the night, whilst hooting and hollering in Portuguese, and later apparently ended up fighting outside, riding the neighbor girl's little pink bicycle around the parking lot at 3:00 in the morning.

Just as I finished reading all about it, written rather eloquently, though rantily, I thought, I heard my current neighbors across the breezeway come up the stairs, also Brazilian, not that there's anything wrong with that, inherently, also shouting in Portuguese, the woman of the couple resorting to baby talk, Portuguese baby talk to what I believe is their new dog, a shih tzu looking thing I've admittedly only seen through my "peep hole".

They're not bad, these people, even if they do leave all Domino's pizza doorknob flyers on the stairs outside, and even if I do eventually pick them up though I hate cleaning after other people, because I want the stairs to be litter free.

That is all beside the point, assuming there is a point.  I also read about how in 2007 someone complimented this very blog, before I deleted all the posts in a moment of "Ohmygod people are reading this thing and that freaks me out!" panic.  Thursday Thirteen #3: Best of Blog for Choice  This blog appeared as #3 out of 13 on that person's list.  Apparently I was writing about abortion, and expressing my opinions and such.  Apparently I used to do that sort of thing, publicly.

I am resurrecting this blog, or so it seems, and I don't know what I'll put here, because I don't generally want to express myself publicly.  I prefer to sit back and watch others, read others, view others, link to others, and privately write what I think of others.  I'm a documenter, an observer, and I prefer to hang back a bit, but here, maybe it's time to come back and express a bit.  We shall see.

So, now for some photos (more fun than resurrected blog thoughts and feelings, right?)!  Last week and the week before I was taking my little dog Louie to the Marietta Square Farmers Market around this time, or earlier really, but again, it's cold!

I would love to pick up some more rainbow chard, and cauliflower, broccoli, but my favorite vendor/farmer said she sells out of that good stuff before the market even opens, defensively telling me she's allowed to sell before 10:00.  Harrumph.  Too cold to get there at 8:00 and hope she's there unpacking.  That rainbow chard... wish I'd taken a photo before I gently sauteed it with those oyster mushrooms!

Admittedly, they're expensive.  Everything at the market.  Is it really for wealthy, white people?  I would hate to think that this new farm to table movement is exclusive, but yes, it seems to be.  Am I wealthy?  Decidedly not, but good food is important to me, and that is where my money is spent.  Am I white?  And if I am?  Can I really help it?

So during this trip to the market, two weeks ago, I tried out the Instagram weekend hashtag project, #whpfromwhereistand.  Hey, I thought it was pretty good, and Louie is such a sport when I pause to take pictures with my Android.  Until he starts yelping, "LET'S GO ALREADY!"  He can't help it, he's a dog who enjoys being on the move.  And I adore his little Martha Stewart barn coat.  Tail in, ears back, but it was only for a moment, he was okay, I promise.

This was my favorite in that Instagram project, but apparently no one else thought so.  C'est la vie.  But this was two weeks ago, and now is now.  Cold out, warm in, no farmers market for me.  Louie the dog is in his favorite spot, under a blanket next to me.  What can I say?

Happy Caturday to one and all!