There are bushes along the right side of the house, under the bedroom and bathroom windows, that were so ugly this winter I was pretty sure I wanted to rip them up and put something, anything else in there.

Last Thursday I was brushing my teeth and looked outside to see them blooming with beautiful purple flowers. I went to the kitchen to get Len.

“Cshum shere!! Fwowers!! Outshive! Fwowers!!!”

Being a good husband he followed me to the bedroom and pretended to be as excited as I was.

They looked like Hibiscus to me but I figured I must have been high on toothpaste fumes because no way could hibiscus grow in a climate where there is anything resembling a winter.

Turns out… I was wrong! They are definitely hibiscus. I thought at first they might be the Rum Runner variety but this morning they were not as dramatically a different color as they were last night at bedtime so now I’m not so sure. I need to do more homework. They have maple leaf foliage.

Now I have to learn more about the care of hibisci, as Sam calls them, so that I can hone these into even more beautiful specimens. And this winter I will not fuss at them for being so ugly.

(I took pictures but my computer does not like my memory card, apparently. I’ll add some when I can.)

I may have sounded a little scary in my post last week. I got letters and e-mails and phone calls in response. My poor brother-in-law thought I might be about to jump off a building.

I am not in totally desperate straits. I think it’s just that I go to work every day with wonderful people who are very different from me and I feel the need to camouflage myself and be like them in some ways. Sometimes the “me” gets lost completely in the “work me.” Sometimes the “me” gets really tired of that and jumps up and down screaming and begging to be let out.

Here’s what happens when I let the “me” out a little bit…

I find out my cat’s name. (THAT was pretty damn cool!)

I find out that people really like me for me and aren’t as confused about who I am as I think. (That made me cry - but in a good way.)

I find that place where I can re-arrange things at home with intent and find peace in that. (Our bedroom is now a glorious to place to be and the pre-fab or hand-me-down furniture now feels exactly right in there.)

I find a place where I can focus on the fact that we deserve happiness and our happiness leads to other people being happy because other people love us for who we are.

Pretty cool stuff.

The trick is sticking with this. It’s hard when money is, shall we say, “snug” at the moment (we’re fine… just not quite as fine as we are used to being). Money causes so much stress. When you have to think about money all of the time it becomes this growling monster in your stomach. I don’t think it’s helping the heartburn I seem to have every day right now. August is the month when lots of things happen to make that gnawing go away. August will be good.

So…. I need to visualize more good things. I feel so undeserving of anything most of the time. I realized while reading a variety of books that I do deserve a lot. I work hard. I love deeply. I am loyal. I tie a great square-knot. Oh wait, I’m not a Boy Scout. But the other stuff is true. And all of YOU out there… you want me/us to be comfortable and happy. It’s so much less worrisome when the people you love are in a sort of comfort-zone: healthy, comfortable financially, loved. What else can you ask for?

Life is not perfect and horrible things are at times going to happen around us but if we are healthy and loved and not having to meditate on a lack of money those horrible things can be focused on and dealt with.

So, now I picture health and wealth (within reason - I’m not asking to be “rich.” I know too many rich people to think that I am equipped to be rich) and comfort swirling around us all, embracing us. Making us whole. All of us… not just Len, the boy, and me. You…. and you…. and you.

And I’m going to spend some more time with “me.” I did this meditation one day last week and as I sank into a really good place I could see a young woman, maybe 16 or 17, in a long, flowing dress, heading up a grassy hill to a small castle. I don’t know what the means - if anything - but that’s what my sub-conscious produced and I found it very comfortable to watch as she went up the hill. She was not out of breath or tired. She was enjoying the journey. She was smelling the clean air and enjoying the view. She was not in a hurry even though it seemed like she was running.

I think I need to get to know her better.

So, I’m messing around with the some pictures and trying to make the house a better, more colorful reflection of who we are and I find this great photo from a party at George Plimpton’s house. I framed it in a great black glass frame and set it aside. A few minutes later, space identified, I go to get it and can’t find it. Being who I am, I start calling it, “George? George? Where are you George? George Plimpton, where are you?”

Suddenly, here comes PD James running as fast as possible. He practically skids to a stop, looks up at me and meows. His eyes are all lit up and he reaches for my hand with his paw. Seriously. I’m not making this up.

I asked him, “Is your name ‘George’?” He meows again and is almost dancing around my legs.

Wow. His name is George. It’s not Tanner or PD James or One Eyed Pete or James or Peter. It’s George!

I let him leave the room in a bit and then called, “George! George!”

Here he came… running down the hall as fast as his little legs would carry him.

When you rescue an animal you do your best to name them properly but you always wonder what they were named before… in their first homes. This is the first time I have ever actually found out.

His name is George.

Last Friday the chipmunks made their appearance on the deck and patio again. Sadie wouldn’t get in the shot, but I did catch four out five waiting for him to move.

Do not get in the way of Millie’s tale when she is on the hunt. Oh… and that little blurry bit of brown just where they are looking… that’s the chimpunk. He was totally messing with some kitties!

But we didn’t spend all weekend watching the cats… we also went to Greenville, South Carolina (Note: Garmin’s are not helpful if you ask them to take you to the WRONG FRIGGIN’ STATE! Just a word to the wise. No corellation to our actual experience. Nope. Not at all.)

Moving on…

We drove up there to see the Greenville Drive play the Augusta GreenJackets (and that makes as much sense as screwing up your state names) in Class-A baseball. We cannot wait to go up there again. The stadium is new and it is gorgeous. Tickets were $7/each and we were so close to the field you could hear the players scratch themselves. Even with gas prices this was cheaper than going to Turner Field to see the Braves play and getting not-so-great seats.

I love baseball. Cracker Jacks, hot dogs, tobacco, the sound of the bat cracking on the ball, the cheers of the fans, the excitement.. I love it all. Class-A ball has the added advantage of having the stupidest between-innings nonsense around and it is so much fun.

Where else can you see human cheeseburgers??

(Excuse the camera shake. I was laughing pretty hard.)

And what is better than human cheeseburgers, I ask you?? Anyone? Anyone?

Human Hamburger Buns high-fiving each other!

Then there was Reedy… the mascot. He was pretty cool.

But this guy… this guy has a gift. He was the best clown I have ever seen. He knew his limits and wasn’t scary but he audience-wrangled with a passion. Very talented guy.

And then there was the reminder of the Blue’s Clues song about mail…

Tell me he is not wagging his tail!

Oh, yeah, and there was baseball and stuff, too…

We’ll be going back for sure… in fact we have already bought tickets for in August. My fellas had a great time.

I’m not going to apologize or over-explain this post. I tend to do that when I want to share who I really am and then I feel like I’m lying. This is me. Like it or not. Don’t care. If you’ve liked me up to now and this changes your opinion of me, too bad.

There. Mask off. Hair down. Barefoot on the sand.

A couple of weeks ago a dear, dear friend sent me an e-mail that sort of rocked my universe. It was the most raw, honest e-mail I have ever seen and she told me truths about myself that I was ignoring. More on that in a bit….

Then we had all kinds of craziness at work and at home.

Then yesterday I realized - right in the ladies room here at the office - that there are certain people (mainly two and no one who reads this blog) in my life who I am drawn to because they are mean to me… in a kidding and wonderful way that I love… but still mean and judgmental. I am drawn to them because that is what I grew up with - without the kidding and wonderfulness. I grew up with someone who was so shocking observant that no little skin blemish or hair out place was not noticed, talked about, focused on, ridiculed. The topic wasn’t dropped until I was squirming and red and miserable and just wanted to die. The people in my life now get a mouthful back and quite often a certain finger is raised right in their face. I’m not sitting down for that kind of nonsense any more. You wanna be mean? Fine. But you’re gonna get it right back and I can be as mean as you can.

Interesting, though, isn’t it? That I have chosen a few people to keep close, close who are as tough on me as the old hag that “raised” me. Wow.

That realization got thrown on the pyre created by reading my friend’s e-mail where she was clear that I am not who I want to be. (I used pyre on purpose… there is a part of me that is almost dead and needs to revive.)

You know… I think a lot of what is “wrong” with me has to do with constantly working to prove people wrong.

- You can’t do that.

- HA! Watch me, f*cker.

- You can do that but you won’t get anything out of it.

- Reeeally? Wanna watch? I’m gonna get orgasmic over how much I get out of this.

I assume people have assumptions about me:

- She’s flaky and there’s no way that family is going to make it to prosperity and comfort.

- She’s an English major. You know how they are.

- She’s messy, unorganized.

- She’s fat and you know fat people can’t be nice/smart/friendly/happy.

Holy crap!! That’s a lot of responsibility I’m giving to you people out there! Talk about a God complex!

Tonight I’m going home and I’m going to meditate for a bit. Because I do that now. And it’s amazing and I can feel the difference and I don’t care who knows it. And then I’m going to measure out some of my house for a Feng Shui map. Because I’ve done that forever and it brings order to the chaos in my mind. And then I’m gonna sit on the floor because I like to. Why have I stopped sitting on the floor? (Okay, creaky knees but who cares about that.) I may even burn some incense. And I’m going to enjoy that part of me that is Bohemian.

I’m angry. Very angry. I’m not even sure at whom. Maybe me? Maybe I just am. I feel like I just opened a closet that hasn’t been used in a long time and in there is just junk - piles of dusty, musty junk just crammed into every nook. And I’m standing there looking at it for a couple of minutes a day but I don’t really have time to clean it out because of that damn job and housework and family stuff and whatever else is going on. So now, as I’m working I see that closet in my mind’s eye and know how much work there is to do and how great it will be once it is cleaned out. I hope I can find time to clean soon.

I know this post won’t make sense to anyone but me and maybe my friend with the x-ray emotional vision but here it is.

I am happy to report that Richard Blais from Top Chef is even nicer in person than he was on the show. I wouldn’t have thought it possible but it’s true. He’s a real gentleman and was a delight to meet.

These types of posts are all I can do right now. We’ve had a rough week at Summitridge involving stolen debit card numbers and resultant money issues, too much work, a crashed laptop for two days meaning late nights… I’m ready for the weekend.

So, for now, let’s enjoy the kitties….

Stanley is the King of Naps. He’s getting older and his naps are more precious to him now than ever.

We ended up with a paper bag from Whole Foods and the cats claimed it immediately. It became Noah’s favorite thing for over a week. It beat out our bed as nap spot.

Of course, contrary to popular opinion, cats don’t sleep around the clock. There is also playtime. WWF for kitties. Noah and Millie have regular wrestling matches.

OOOOOFF!

After a while a truce is declared and wounds are licked. (Kidding… there are no wounds… just vain kitties who can’t have a fur out of place.)

Sadie just wait patiently for the fuss to die down.

And then, last weekend, I decided to make salmon croquettes for dinner. Meaning: CANNED SALMON. Meaning: OH MY GOD!! And the cats had a field day but Millie had the most fun.

First, she stuck her face in the can as far as she could.

Then she figured out that she could “fish” around in there with her paw. So she did. For 45 minutes. The can was never cleaner.

When you want all five of your cats to be in one place they will never consider cooperating. I tried sprinkling some treats around so that they would all gather. But, if you can count, you can see that things are not quite right here…

Millie was resting in the kitchen.

That would make her seem apart from the crowd, standoffish. Not true!

Last weekend I caught this shot of Noah and Sam. They have a special connection.

They spend lots of quality time together.

I can’t believe how big our little Noah has gotten.

At Christmas:

Now:

This weekend….

Reading
Playing
Sitting
Dreaming
Meditating
Crafting
Enjoying
Cooking

The sliding glass windows in our living room/dining room, kitchen, and master bedroom have become giant flat-screen TV’s for five furry beasts. They gather at the windows to watch the birds, squirrels and chipmunks. They pounce on bugs on the outside of the glass. They swish their tails and wiggle their butts and get all worked up. Of course, when I pick up the camera it all stops. At that point everyone is just a little sleepy and bored with it all.

I did catch Millie on high-alert:

And Stanley was torn between freaking out about the crazy lady with the camera and staying focused on a bird:

PD James (One Eyed Pete) was just chillin’ (?) in the sun:

And Sadie was in full-out napping mode:

She is such a sun-worshiper!

And Noah, well, he was asleep on our bed and I didn’t disturb him.

It’s now a goal to get a picture of all five of them lined up at the window.