Kitties and bunnies

I know you were all thinking “Go, Cindi, Go!” last week when I thought I might begin tackling some yard work.  You also are probably not surprised to hear it didn’t happen.  Its 30 degrees outside for crying out loud!  Those little tree limbs are just gonna have to wait. 

So right outside my office window is a huge, and I mean gigantic huge, rhododendron bush.  Heck, its not a bush; it is a housing development.  We are geared to take it down this year as it is just taking over.  Its been here for a very long time.  In fact, this bush gave birth to a bush my sister-in-law removed two or three years ago from next door...because IT had gotten too big, if that gives you an idea.  The bush is done for as far as I am concerned. 

There is a problem, however.  Aside from the birdies just loving it, it is shelter to bunnies..but also some feral cats.  I am just positive that one or two of them must be expecting babies by now and more than likely will give birth inside that bush.   This creates an issue.  

If you are curious, yes, these cats stayed outside all winter and where? I have no idea if not in that bush.  My sister-in-law does occasionally set out a bowl of food and I have also seen a mysterious quilt draped over a bench on the deck next door, making a suspicious “lean to”.  However, they primarily stayed, well, I guess outside, all winter. 

I have no idea where these cats came from as one day they were just here.  I originally thought they came from a new family that moved in to the old priest’s house on the corner.  But, I no longer think that’s the case and may just be a coincidence, but there are at least six of them, and just today I noticed a new one -  a small black cat that appears a bit younger than the rest.  Now what? 

Now what?

Now, what? What now? I believe I am not the only one who asks this question, whether to ourselves, our partners or the atmosphere.  My new blog focus will be more on, well, “to dos” and adventures!  Not so much reminiscing and wistful pondering as forward thinking, and plotting!  I am happy to have blown the cobwebs off a few memories, but, enough with that already! 

To get started, let me give you an idea of what’s facing me right now.  Yard work.  It is facing all of us, I imagine.  I accept that we have a huge expanse of dirt to manage and, quite frankly, I don’t know how long mister and myself will be able to keep it up. I know I don’t have the bend in the knees and back that I use to, and while I really enjoy the beautiful grounds of Augusta, someone gets paid big bucks to manage those grounds, and has many workers.  I read somewhere that if the azaleas are ready to bloom too early in Augusta for the big golf event they ice them down to hold off the blooms! Can you imagine? I rejoice whenever a bloom opens in my yard and can’t wrap my head around making them not bloom! 

My first “Now what?” is, how am I going to get all this yard work accomplished?  I have visions of epic grandeur for my space and well, no pot of gold, for one and no leprechauns.  I need some worker bees.  I thought I had it all planned out as all three of my offspring were here last weekend and were rake ready.  However, it was colder than anticipated, one developed strep throat and one son-in-law was unable to be here.  So much for that plan, now what? 

There are plans underway for them to all visit again soon.  We still have some tree “mess” to clean up from the storms last summer which is a big task, and needs more hands.   It will make a nice difference for the daffodils and tulips that will soon be shouting!  

I am glad it is spring.  I am glad there is work to be done.  I am anxious to oil up the garden weasel tool and take on some weeding.  I have spent a lot of time indoors this past six months - I am ready for some fresh air and putting in hard time in the yard.   It can’t be done in a day, this is for sure, but, it will get done.  Get ye outside! 

Signs, signs.

Crocus in a small little clump in bloom on the hill next door and swans in the open water.  Its been a long, long winter and these are good signs, folks...very good signs.  I have had my days of being too cooped up, too gloomy and am ready for the warmth of this sun and spring.  I’ve never been big into sitting in the sun.  Not my thing and never really was.  I’ve got enough Irish blood in me to be too fair and freckly to tan, and well, I just never saw the point.  I don’t mind having a tan, and I don’t avoid the sun so much but it just was never a priority for me.  If the sun hits my skin and turns it a color while I am outside, that’s good enough for me.  (I do use sunscreen.  I am not insane.)  Now, as I read the label on my high blood pressure medicine, it appears that I am to avoid prolonged exposure anyway.  Alright. 

I use to burn the heck out of my scalp, you see, as I am a pin head and can’t pull off hats.  I wish I had a long, graceful neck so that I might don a big brim hat with ease but I don’t, I can’t.  I do have a neck but I also have, well, high shoulders.  Hats just look silly, and flatten down my already straight hair and then, well, you know, I have a pin head.   The problem is, now that my hair has “lost its pigment” and is somewhat thinner than it use to be I can really, really blister the ol’ noggin’ if I don’t wear a hat while I’m in the sun.  

It really isn’t even a matter of being short.  I know short people with long necks.  My friend Carolyn can wear hats.  My youngest child has a beautiful, graceful neck with pretty collar bones.  She looks great in hats and is not tall.  But, I’m a pinhead and like many things in the fashion industry, they don’t make hats for pinheads.  Here’s the beauty, though.  I am now, and I think we have established that it is certifiable, old enough to not really care how a hat looks on me.  

A hat has become part of my warm weather, sun wardrobe.  If I am lucky enough to travel to some sunny vacation spot, I will sport a hat.  As I think about the upcoming spring and summer, I know I will be wearing a hat.  You might see me out in the boat in a hat.  In the yard in a hat.  At the 4th of July parade in a hat.  Look for me, I will be the pinhead and may even have youngsters pointing and giggling in my general direction while their mothers pull them away.  Bring on the sun! 

This, I think you will agree, has been a really rough few days.  We’ve all seen the news reports and the videos online so, what I have to offer here is trivial when reading what is happening in Japan.   Keep them close in your hearts and prayers...shoot, keep all of us close in your hearts and prayers.

You know those moments that visit when we are vulnerable? Moments that grab you by the shoulders, shake you, spin you and send you forward? I had one this week - a moment of sheer clarity.  It was about my age. 

Age. Ugh. I have sort of passed through the last ten years and not been all that acknowledging of my age, and of aging.  I think that may be because hubs doesn’t change.  He looks so much the same as he has always looked to me.  I probably look at him more than I look in the mirror so it was easy to not acknowledge my own age.  I’ve had an AARP card for a long time, but that’s because HE got one...mine was a bonus. 

The other day, however, I was completing a form online for an automobile insurance quote and there it was...that age category selection. I hovered around the 45 to 54 choice for a long, long, time before accepting I couldn’t select that group.  There it was, hands on my shoulders.  A moment in time when I heard a whisper in my head “You aren’t in that group. You are older.  Check the next group. You are older” 

Reluctantly, I selected the next group.  55 to 64.  Are you serious? 55 to 64?  Okay, well, take a deep breath.   You are in the same group as retirees.  Okay.  You might get some discounts. This could be good, I said to myself.  It means  you aren’t in that high risk category of those whipper snapping 45 year olds.  This is a positive, right? This is a better rate! You’ve driven longer, you are experienced, YOU, Cindi, are in the wise group, the contributors, the tried and tested drivers.   Yes!  55 to 64,  check and double check.   

Shake me, spin me.  I’m 56.  What the heck happened to 55?