You’ve probably noticed how when someone says hello or smiles at you, your automatic reaction is to say hello or smile back. ~ Shawn Achor
January 3, 2023
Yes, but then there are situations in which that other being stares and flicks its tail. How does a tail-less individual reciprocate?
Here’s Marcel on the coldest day of the year, tucked in between the venetian blinds and drafty window. Wouldn’t be me, on multiple counts. But I can’t fault anyone for following the sunshine.
Fortunately, we’re at a balmy 44 degrees right now. No sun, though, which might explain why Marcel is currently curled up asleep on the bed.
Happy #Caturday to all who observe!
My eyes deceived me
not low profile waterfowl
so who’s the loon now?
Your turn
hit me with a haiku
please
Last year, I took a series of photos of Loki and Marcel so I could make a birthday card for our neighbor who takes care of them while we’re away. I went back to them now in search of a #Caturday image, and couldn’t resist this one of them half-heartedly struggling to be free of Zippy’s grip:
Or this image of weary resignation:
Or this photo of the brothers looking off in the distance, as if hoping help was on the way:
Ah, memories.
Standley Lake. April 12, 2022
Shells on a lake shore
sea one thousand miles away
Sally can’t sell these
Here’s a bunny for your Monday.
July 3, 2022
May you channel the attitude of the many bunnies in my neighborhood this coming week, exhibiting confidence along with a steely disregard for that which doesn’t concern you.
I am incredibly grateful for the domestic gifts Zippy bestows upon me. Namely, handling all the cooking and grocery shopping. Yes, you read that correctly. I don’t have to cook or shop. Except when it’s absolutely necessary, such as when Zippy has Covid. (Note: he is feeling better although still testing positive).
He first tested positive a week ago tomorrow and hasn’t had much of an appetite. Lucky for both of us. Him, because that meant he wasn’t subjected to my lack of cooking skills and me, because I wasn’t forced to exhibit my low-level kitchen intelligence. Zippy tolerated my quinoa and steamed broccoli (that I daringly “spiced up” with some snap peas and cut green beans) and the minimalist spinach “salads” garnished with halved cherry tomatoes and a splash of balsamic dressing. I skated by until last night.
It all started because I’d noticed a head of kale in the drawer.
I worried it was getting a bit droopy and asked what I could make with the kale before it went bad. Zippy replied, “Lots of things” in a tone that implied those many “things” were most definitely beyond my reach. “Like what?” I pressed. “Like “kale and potatoes,” he replied. “I can do that!” I proclaimed.
And Reader, I’m pleased to announce I did do just that. I successfully prepared a meal. All it required was for Zippy to stay on speakerphone through the entire preparation. Halfway through the conversation when I apologized for being so inept that he had to talk me through the process as if I was defusing a bomb, he admitted our cooking conversation was the most exciting part of his day. Sad commentary on a week spent isolating in the basement. But for me, the excitement I derived from the experience was the fact that (with Zippy’s guidance) I didn’t botch the timing on everything as I have in the past when attempting to create something in the kitchen. I successfully timed:
Okay, that last step took too long and the kale still came out a bit undercooked/chewy. Other than that, I killed it!
But wait, there’s more! Today I went grocery shopping, at two different stores. Not only that, I’ve already returned home and put away the groceries . . . and it’s still daylight! So what if Zippy could have accomplished the same amount of shopping in a fraction of the time it took me? So what if I had to call him from the first store to help me locate the sliced sourdough bread? At the next store, I figured out all on my own where the salad dressing was shelved and confirmed there were no avocados. And is ketchup really necessary?
So, yeah. This past week has been a stark reminder of my very privileged life in which groceries and meals magically occur. For many, many reasons, Zippy and I are both looking forward to a full recovery and him resuming his reign.
Contrast is what makes photography interesting. ~ Conrad Hall
May 15, 2022
Marmots’ climbing wall at Staunton State Park. June 7, 2022
You can observe a lot by just watching. ~ Yogi Berra
October 9, 2021
Marcel takes Yogi’s sage insight to heart, watching out the window as his brother Loki naps beside him, oblivious to the birds on the awning.
Despite my website banner that declares me a “Writer…Runner…Birder,” I haven’t run much over the past five months. A combination of things (notably fatigue resulting from the multiple collective traumas we’re experiencing) has kept me from lacing up the running shoes. Today, I discovered the perfect way to ease back into my much-loved activity and this easy-peasy method requires only two things:
1) a dog
2) snow piles
It goes like this: you run until you spot a patch of relatively clean snow. Then you pause while your canine friend flops onto the snow, plows her nose and forehead through the white stuff (doing the “submarine”), and concludes by rolling on her back to joyfully kick her legs in the air. Lather. Rinse. Repeat.
Example of Emma’s preferred cooling-down method on hike. June 12, 2019.
My soon-to-be patented method accomplishes two things:
1) it allows your heart rate to calm down so you’re not tempted to quit
2) it cools off the dog and feeds her enthusiasm for the running
Try it, you’ll like it!
Emma and I ran a total of 2.5 miles this afternoon, taking many, many snow breaks. It wasn’t fast and it wasn’t far, but we’re both feeling the good kind of tired that follows a workout.
Emma napping while I stretch, post-run.
January 31, 2022
Tripod plus timer
portrait success elusive
sun sets on sitting
June 4, 2021
Bird feeder raider
strategizing next assault
Nuts to you, human
January 21, 2022
My signature dish
impossible to conceal
proof is in the air
Eurasian Collared-dove. January 1, 2022
Smart and not-so-smart
warms herself on heated rim
then poops in water
Dove both smart and dumb original line too mean & judgmental
I can imagine no more comfortable frame of mind for the conduct of life than a humorous resignation. ~ W. Somerset Maugham
October 9, 2021
As documented earlier, Marcel and Loki “cooperated” with Zippy for a very good cause in that photo session and no felines were injured in the making of this photo.
Tracy is taking this day to do whatever in the hell she wants. Sit in a patch of sunshine. Read a book. Rub my head or that of my brother Loki. Pet that frequently over-amped dog she calls Emma Jean-Jean. Have a snack or nap. Take another leisurely bootless walk. Create or not create. The decisions belong to Tracy.
October 9, 2021
I trust this isn’t a problem for any of you, right?
All right, I’m late for my own nap so I’ll wish you a good day. Be well.
Rather than stalk my photogenic white cat with a camera for a #Caturday post, I’m opting for a different focus because it’s been far too long since I’ve indulged my goat-love.
Image by Reijo Telaranta from Pixabay
But why stop at one image?
Image by JackieLou DL from Pixabay
No one around here has a problem with goats, right?
Image by JackieLou DL from Pixabay
Right?
Boldness is sexy, especially when it’s done with a wink. ~ Matthew Hussey
October 12, 2021
Happy Caturday from bold, sexy Marcel.
October 29, 2021
Saline memories
years of nasal cleanliness
neti nose me best
Here are two of my favorite things: honey bees and lavender.
July 18, 2019
We still have a few late-blooming stalks of lavender (this photo was taken a couple summers ago), but not a lot of bees around. Which is why I was surprised over the weekend while reading outside on a bench I’d pushed up against the side of the house to avoid the wind. Surrounded by concrete and brick, engrossed in the pages, I became aware of a faint buzzing that got louder and louder. A honey bee flew next to my outstretched leg before landing on my arm and then my chest. After a brief pause there, it flew to my collar. Much closer to my ear (bzzzz bzzzz ). And face.
Bees fascinate me more than freak me out, however, I admit to feeling a bit nervous about this buzzing visitor. Still, I maintained my calm, congratulating myself on the chill attitude. Until . . . the honey bee moved down to the end of my sleeve and crawled in my sleeve. Chill attitude officially over! I shrieked and shook my arm to dislodge the bee, which seemed to take forever due to the layers I wore.
When the bee safely flew away-away, I chided myself for panicking. And then I remembered the terrifying bees-in-clothing experience I had years ago, and cut myself slack.
Fortunately, this latest bee interaction was entirely friendly and bees still rank among my very favorite things.
Wait, what? You wanted this sunflower bud to blossom?
September 9, 2021
Well, maybe you shouldn’t have chased me away from the peanut feeder. What goes around, comes around.
I was working on revisions in bed this morning when Marcel decided to check out the happenings. In true feline form, he chose to curl up on the very document I’d just set next to me.
As gently as possible, I removed it from beneath his vast bulk. Not to be dissuaded from his mission of chaos, Marcel began noisily licking the plastic bag containing my highlighters and post-its. I was less gentle in that removal.
A few minutes later, I relocated to the patio. Marcel is an indoor-only cat.
P.S. While they didn’t directly obscure my materials, a couple hummingbirds got into multiple dust-ups as I worked outside, distracting me with their darting aggression.
It’s pretty obvious that I deserve a medal for getting any work done today.
We spent one night at Jackson Lake State Park in late May and were gifted with many bird sightings. This male Bullock’s Oriole patiently posed on a post while I took photos, turning this way and that, allowing a complete view of his plumage.
There were several swallow species flying about and I took many photos of them in flight, none of which turned out well. This Barn Swallow was very considerate and graciously perched on a roof.
Later, as Zippy and I walked along a trail, we spotted a flash of red up ahead. He studied the bird through the binoculars and said, “Wow, it’s some really big red bird” and then passed the binoculars to me. I also briefly thought it was some unknown big, red species, and then my brain kicked in: we were looking at a House Finch, a species we see every single day in our yard. Yes, it was an unusually red male. But was it truly a large bird? No! It only appeared that way because of the binoculars. You know, that tool we use to help see things better via magnification?
Birding. The gift that keeps on giving.
July 30, 2021
Goldfinches’ playground
sunflower teeter-totters
seedy equipment
Tracy Abell 