Random moments, black & white

kitten photos... 

His name is Sparra           [uh, think pirate - Captain Jack Sparrow Arrr!]

Right ...  well, this guy looks "adorable"

Much like the Captain ...

sometimes, he actually is adorable

and those are the moments when one might hear two teen boys say the word
"A D O R A B L E " (out loud even)

But truthfully, he's "annoying" ... still cute and cuddly {in those random moments} but ANNOYING.

Who knew??

Parenting techniques that worked so well with my boys are simply useless!! 

The thing about using love & logic is that kittens don't care if you love them or how logical it is to NOT bite or scratch or wound the person who feeds them.   Arrrgh!!

See how these eyes tell a story that looks much like curiosity … 

but quickly they turn into CRAZY-eyes and a holy terror kitten runs wildly around trying to bite and scratch anything in the vicinity of its claws.  

Case in point, bare legs ...  EEK!  

Legs which cannot go walking around bare as this might happen ... 

(yes, he's caught mid-air mid-attack, yes I have the marks to prove it!   Hmmmph.

But they love him, little terror Sparra ...

only adorable moments for me are when he sleeps!!

shh, don't wake him up!!

 

      Millie thinks he's annoying too...

then again she bops him in the head & takes a cat nap... 

Ooh, no ... I'm thinking he's plotting an attack of the toes ... 

Who says rescuing kittens is humane ... what about rescuing me?!!!   

I'm off to run some errands ... why is it he sleeps while I'm gone and is awake when I'm home... tell me they grow up quickly like my kids ~ a sophmore and 8th grader {way more mature than their grade or age}.

Livin' life happy ~ until my next 'rant'.

Time ...

such a strange thing, Time.

I have numerous clocks around the apartment, they are set at different times.  Some exactly on time, others fast and one I'm sure is slow now {gotta remember to change the batteries}.  Yet only the boys know for sure which one's are fast/slow/on-time.   Hmmm.


~


I find it strange that I know the clocks are fast, but never re-calculate the time to be sure I'm 100% accurate that one is the fast one.


You see, there's a method to the madness of speedy clocks.  I must confess that I'm not the most efficient at getting out the door on time {thus the 5 - or is it 6? - minutes set ahead on speedy clock(s)}.


~


Yesterday was one of those mornings.  I thought, since I awoke early, worked out, found clothing to wear, ate drank breakfast, I was certain that I would be on-time!


Which seems not to be the case most mornings.


Here's the thing about mornings -- not each thing every day, but one thing almost every day -- it goes something like this:

• I load my 'stuff' into the car, get in, reach for the hot cup of coffee I should have just placed in the cup holder... realizing my hands were so full on the trip out the door, I left my 'perfect' cup of coffee on the entry table; check clock in car - not enough time to stop at Starbucks.  Grr, get out, lock car {well, my purse is in there now}, go back up the sidewalk, unlock apartment grab coffee -- you get the picture, get in car with hot coffee and "no" time to waste.

• I get half-way to the car and my bluetooth "dings" the tone that says "uhh, hello Dory, walked too far from your phone - I'm turning off now".  Auggh, go back set all my stuff down, unlock the door ... walk around looking/wondering where did I set that last????   Finally pick up home phone and call cell phone.  Duh, of course, it's on the bed under the last thing I tried on before realizing such cute stuff was TOO cold to wear.   [side bar ~ I have REALLY missed the sun, glad it's finally here.]

• Inside the apartment I am ready to go; look at the clock(s), have plenty of time.  Have all essentials: purse. phone. coffee. snacks. calendar. bluetooth. to-do notepad. other miscellaneous items girls carry and rarely admit they tote (6 lipsticks, 2 lip glosses, 1 lip liner - ok, I counted and was shocked that I still had room for my wallet); anyhow, where was I?   Oh, right...
  
  I'm ready to head to the front door all loaded up - I need keys to lock the door.  Keys? You know, those things that are always in the right spot, uhh, until you think you have all your "stuff" together.  Grr.  Set everything down look for keys.  Wish for some magical, cool, expensive gadget that makes them talk "hey, you left me by the coffee maker" or "down here - you dropped me in the wrong bag" or "Geez, Dory, I'll poke you in the butt if you sit on me."   Hmmph.  Take keys from back pocket (which seemed like a good idea at the moment - so I could carry the coffee) ... collect all the "stuff" get out the door -- no time to spare.

~

I could go on with that list but I really was going to tell you how different my story was yesterday morning:

There I was walking down the sidewalk, on-time but not too early.  I had all the stuff I needed (or cared to remember).   As I'm happily walking toward my car, smiling at the sunshine that's winking from the sky; my peripheral view alert system notifies my consciousness that a car is matching my pace.  As I approach my vehicle I catch a glimpse of the car, driving along the street parallel to me.  It's white with markings down the side, hmm, law enforcement.  I glance over again, aware that it's slowing to make the turn into the parking lot.  It's nice to know that the apartments are always monitored, I muse as I continue to load my car; only feel slightly concerned when it pulls in right next to my car. 

Well, it did pull in but now it's exiting, no - it's blocking the back of my car... I cautiously, but politely, walk over to inquire ... just then I recognize the officer -- I know you!  Hah, it's Sheriff Starr {offering his first name, yet again, but I had forgotten} hey, I noticed you're driving a different car - no more 'unmarked' car?!!  Seems my sheriff friend had been given new duties in a flashy, very obvious law enforcement vehicle.   


Now I'm thinking - wow, he's good.  How the heck does Sheriff Starr recognize me walking down the sidewalk??  I think it's been, nearly a year since our last Starbucks encounter.  We made small talk (briefly, as I'm sure I sounded edgy with precious fast second passing)... imagine that, he didn't know I lived at these apartments... well, it's not something I tell my Starbucks acquaintances.   How are things -- he's not happy, but doesn't want to complain (too much anyway ... seems there's a lot to complain about); we agree there's not much point to complaining anyway.  Hah, well, it's nice to see you ... uuhh, thanks for stopping...  when he finally says --  oh, hey, I bet you are probably heading to work -- well, I wouldn't want to make you late.  [right, thanks]   Said goodbye.


~


Exactly as I thought, checking my speedy clock in the car -- I was going to be late for sure.  Until I arrived at the office only to notice:

 None of clocks on the walls, the computer, or my cell phone read the same time!

Hah! Although I worked an extra few minutes, I'm still not sure if I was late or not...  

But I am certain that time remains a mystery to me!

HonuGirl

UP, UP & aaaa….

whooahhh wait a second – no up, up … or awaaay? 

~

Auughhh …  sploooshhh, whoosh, and whirl into a horrible vortex of thoughts … spiraling downward with such momentum – unable to swim free from the mind-trap.  


Know what…?  I hate swimming; fear of drowning in deep water — very bad mo-jo.

Cold, dazed and confused… can I wake up now?  



~


Yep, that's pretty much the sad description of an hour (or two) of my life today. 

You see, usually when my mind wanders and thoughts endlessly flood my brain, they take me daydreaming or dream-playing or something much like a helium balloon floating up, up and away; with grace and poise {no water here} I’m delicately cloud hopping; drifting aimlessly into the blue skies and hot sunny days of summer.

~

“Usually” is the key word there …

Yet, conversely my bitter vortex of groossh ( gross outpouring of sh-ouldn’t says ) was so depressing and impulsive that I almost didn’t recognize myself. 

Now that, my friend, is startling in itself; need I say more?

~

What I learned, however, is just how important it is to wake up on the “right side” of a vortex mind-trap or it will ensnare you in the spiral of aimless swill!

~

Thank God for close co-workers, BfF, and my Sweet-T who reminded me it's better not to swim alone, Dory … 

"Just keep swimming, just keep swimming, just keep swimming swimming swimming"

HonuGirl

It happened while I was driving ...

THINKING of random, yet important things, when I can't write 'em down.

Silly, but it happens all the time.  Whenever I'm in the car I have incidental thoughts of greatness (quotable stuff), sometimes I remember the date to an important event, or think of the critical items to bring with me to a meeting.

Heavy sigh...  what's a girl to do.   {Get a personal assistant to take notes in the car?}

^

Speaking of 'remembering' things.  I have a to-do list that may as well be a rotating  "undone" list.   Somehow even though the things I write on my list get done -- whoosh  -- suddenly they jump back onto the list again.  It's as if I'd never checked them off!  
     {  take time to  BLOG  }      {  do your  W O R K O U T  }    {  get some S L E E P  }         {  visit F R I E N D S  }
^
One day (yeah, just once) I tried to prioritize my to-do's while driving. The thought that occurred  to me at that moment was about my friend.  We had not had contact since before Christmas.  This was nearly a week after New Years...  in a typical week, we might talk 3-4 times before Friday, so this revelation -- was startling to me!!


Although each task on my to-do list has importance (which is why prioritizing in the car is just wrong),  I've learned that relationships are far more important to me than tasks!   So, without hesitation, I dialed my friend's number. {While it was ringing it occurred to me that I didn't have my headset and it wasn't worth the ticket, so I pushed the speaker phone button -- you thought I'd hang up huh?)  No answer.  


Perhaps it was a bit muffled on the voice mail (since I had to tuck my flip phone in the front of my top to keep the speaker in place - hands free right?) ... but it kind of sounded like this:


       "Hi, my name is Jolene.  I am a friend-a-holic"   "It has been at least one week --
        no -- two weeks since my last contact with this friend. I find it very difficult to
        focus on my daily tasks without contact. I am having severe friend-withdrawal
        . . . please, help me.  Any contact will do: phone . email . facebook .
        blog comment ...    aauuughhhhh !!"


Certainly falls into the overly dramatic, I know, but an hour later she called laughing so hard she could barely say "hi is this my friend-a-holic?"  I feel much better now.


^
On another note - my son grew another 1/4 inch this week (he specifically asked me to check today).  He also handed me a certificate from middle school stating he was on the Principal's Honor Roll for his GPA Qtr1 (do you think, perhaps, he may have been standing a bit taller today??)   hmmm.  Does it matter?   I already look up to him.                        [sidebar ... he can reach things for me in the upper cabinets now ~ whoo hoo!].  


^
Not that overly dramatic is a 'chip-off-the-old-block' but... 


I made my son cry today.  Apparently the red inflammation around his wounded knee was to remain a private, understated injury and I was far too obvious in my motherly display of "Wow!  We should treat that -- how's it feeling; sure looks red today."   Tears and unintelligible comments referencing 'thinking about it again' followed by a dramatic, disgusted walk to his room where the tears flowed where he sat on the top bunk.


Honestly, I am normally more clued-in as to "why" things like that happen around here.  But this kid is as tough as nails and now -- without even touching his wound (notice we don't have "ouchies" around here... these are wounds in battle, which will become COOL scars later) I managed to get him unhinged.


Finally, when all was back to normal and book reading, couch sitting and relaxed talking resumed, I hear more whimpers -- oh, and he's looking at his knee then averting his eyes from the wound repeatedly.


Now, I simply cannot take it any more.  As tenderly and mom-like I lean forward to the blanket-wrapped boy to ask:  "so what's the deal about the knee, I don't get it."   =)    (It really was the best I could do in the moment.)


Tough boy says through the tears " I don't want them to cut my leg off Mom; you're scaring me, so stop talking about it like it's infected.  It just hurts a little."   What will the doctor do anyway?


hmmm?   I asked a few pertinent questions; cleared up a quick suspicion... (adult male humor/sarcasm at work here)  I explained first that the doctor has no intention of cutting off his leg.  Further, it's much funnier to dads/uncles/grand-pas and most any adult male to say stuff like "guess we'll have to cut it off if it's not healing" and randomly weird comments about removing appendages, limbs, and such.   


After a few kind, gentle, comforting words of assurance and a sure fire guarantee that I would allow NO ONE to cut off his leg at the knee -- we are ALL better now.  I'm sure I will blog about it again someday (a LONG time from now) when he says something similar to my grandchild... it's the circle of life.                      [sidebar ... I'm thinkin' we just found the source of three nights of nightmares, sheesh!]

^

I'd like to say my priority is to finish this B L O G.   But the task spelled   S L E E P   is winning out on the priority list.

*^*^*^*^*^*^*

Be blessed.   I'll write again soon -- next time I take a drive and think about more stuff to say!  

HonuGirl