To those who have inquired, thank you, Sweetie is doing much better. So much so that she is fighting me tooth and claw over every administration of topical and/or oral medication. I will have scars to prove what a dedicated 'mother' I am.
I know she's feeling better since she has been running through the house at full tilt, jumping on the other cats, and batting around everything that she can physically move. (I have a rubber stamp that states "Everything not nailed down is a cat toy." How true!) I am much encouraged by her improvement; she had been quite lethargic.
On other subjects:
Rain -- we're about to mildew, again. My rain gauge shows over 4" since 12:01 am on Wednesday. We needed the moisture, but this liquid sunshine is really putting a crimp in my yardening.
Old Friends -- I had a serendipitous encounter and totally wonderful visit yesterday with Pepper Pepper, a young man (young being relative to my own age) who I first met in 2000 and with whom, over the intervening years, I had spent a goodly amount of time. However, I had lost touch with him and had not seen him at all for almost a year. He is a photographer, poet, and multi-media artist, a very good one, I think, and a world traveler. He has a website showcasing some of his work. If you're interested, you can see it here. I invite you to do so.
Some bittersweet news is that he has purchased a property in Ghivizzano, Tuscany, Italy, and will be moving there at year end. He showed us dozens of photos of the town and surrounding areas, all of which took our breath away. I know there are many beautiful places on earth, but he has selected one that is nearly perfect for the variety of landscapes. And, here I am, with no passport! That situation, of course, can be remedied.
Stamping -- I have over-obligated myself in this area, and it's definitely affecting how much time I spend blogging and reading others' blogs. To wit:
* I am making cards for a stamp club on Saturday of this week.
* On the following Monday, I will be teaching a stamp class for 10 participants.
* My stamping partner and I are hosting a two-session Stamp Camp on Sept. 25 and 26, which calls for a lot of designing, cutting and creating kits, a total of 120.
* She and I will sponsor and donate all materials for an afternoon of stamping for World Card Making Day on October 3, for which I will design 4 cards and prepare materials for 30 of each design. I really don't mind about this one at all, because half of the cards go to the Ronald McDonald House in Little Rock, the other half to Cards for Soldiers.
* As soon as this almost back-to-back flurry of activity is over, we will begin preparations for another Stamp Camp on November 13-14, for which each of us will prepare materials for 480 Christmas cards.
That's about it! Look for me when you see me coming.
Showing posts with label friends. Show all posts
Showing posts with label friends. Show all posts
Thursday, September 17, 2009
Sunday, May 4, 2008
Booze in the Window - Post 13
I had lunch today after church with a woman who has been a fellow worshiper for about 5 years. Although I speak to CJ every Sunday, I find I'm just now really getting to know her. I am learning that she's an intelligent, delightful, multi-faceted individual -- and a great story-teller. We had a lovely, long lunch with lively conversation and lots of laughter. I repeat here one of the stories she shared.
At the time of this event, CJ was 6 years old and lived in a small southern Arkansas town; you know, one of those where everyone knows everyone... and everyone's business; not many secrets there. CJ's daddy was a deacon in his church (one of the teetotal denominations), and although everyone knew he was a deacon, come Christmas time, someone (not a church member, of course) would inevitably gift him with a bottle of bourbon. Being the good deacon that he was, the gift was never directly consumed, but would be given over to the care of their cook, who would store the bottle on top of the refrigerator then use it as flavoring for the next year's holiday fruitcake. The fruitcake was wrapped in cheesecloth, liberally soaked in the liquor, then put aside to "mature" until the holiday meal. [I happen to be quite fond of southern fruitcake, but cannot think of anything worse to do to it than drench it in bourbon, the flavor of which I find overwhelming!]
After this year's fruitcake making, CJ and her best girl friend, being of a curious nature, decided they needed to sample some of the remaining whiskey. They pulled up a chair to stand on, retrieved the bottle, got two small glasses from the cupboard and poured about a finger of whiskey in each. They didn't actually drink the stuff, she said, but instead stuck their tongues into the glasses for "a taste." One tongue-full was more than ample; they spewed and snorted and poured the contents of their glasses down the drain. Thinking they heard an adult approaching, and not wanting to be caught with the bottle, CJ grabbed it and ran to the living room. Seeking a hiding place, she placed it behind the curtains in the room's bay window.
[You know what's coming, don't you?]
About an hour later, the neighbor across the street telephoned CJ's mother. She told her she might want to check the front window, because there was something in there which was causing motorists to really slow down as they passed.
Now, CJ is younger than I, although not by many years, but she clearly remembers the tongue-lashing she received from both her parents. Mother was horrified and mortified; Daddy was distinctly distressed. She did not say if the discipline she received was more than verbal.
I'm looking forward to our next long lunch.
At the time of this event, CJ was 6 years old and lived in a small southern Arkansas town; you know, one of those where everyone knows everyone... and everyone's business; not many secrets there. CJ's daddy was a deacon in his church (one of the teetotal denominations), and although everyone knew he was a deacon, come Christmas time, someone (not a church member, of course) would inevitably gift him with a bottle of bourbon. Being the good deacon that he was, the gift was never directly consumed, but would be given over to the care of their cook, who would store the bottle on top of the refrigerator then use it as flavoring for the next year's holiday fruitcake. The fruitcake was wrapped in cheesecloth, liberally soaked in the liquor, then put aside to "mature" until the holiday meal. [I happen to be quite fond of southern fruitcake, but cannot think of anything worse to do to it than drench it in bourbon, the flavor of which I find overwhelming!]
After this year's fruitcake making, CJ and her best girl friend, being of a curious nature, decided they needed to sample some of the remaining whiskey. They pulled up a chair to stand on, retrieved the bottle, got two small glasses from the cupboard and poured about a finger of whiskey in each. They didn't actually drink the stuff, she said, but instead stuck their tongues into the glasses for "a taste." One tongue-full was more than ample; they spewed and snorted and poured the contents of their glasses down the drain. Thinking they heard an adult approaching, and not wanting to be caught with the bottle, CJ grabbed it and ran to the living room. Seeking a hiding place, she placed it behind the curtains in the room's bay window.
[You know what's coming, don't you?]
About an hour later, the neighbor across the street telephoned CJ's mother. She told her she might want to check the front window, because there was something in there which was causing motorists to really slow down as they passed.
Now, CJ is younger than I, although not by many years, but she clearly remembers the tongue-lashing she received from both her parents. Mother was horrified and mortified; Daddy was distinctly distressed. She did not say if the discipline she received was more than verbal.
I'm looking forward to our next long lunch.
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