Ode To Those I Love Part III

The month of May entered our lives with grief and sadness. It seemed to be going out that way too. On Friday night I said goodbye to Kimo Kitty. Breaking the last bit of my tender heart. Sometime earlier in the week I had decided that he was it. We had another cat at home (Brother Boy, who I haven't really been fair too. He's a good cat. Actually very sweet. He just doesn't speak English or really know how to interact with humans.) and I just didn't want another one. I was through with pets for a while. When Lovey asked if we were going to get another cat I answered with an emphatic NO. I had made it quite clear to Chas & Lovey that Brother was more than enough and to not...even...ask!

It was Memorial Day weekend. Hot. Sad. Nothing could make me happy. That Sunday, Chas joined his regular group for his weekly round of golf. It was his first time to play after loosing Flash. The men he plays with are his true friends. They were all there for Chas at the memorial service. I am grateful for them. For the sake of Lovey, I tried to make it as normal a day as possible. We woke early. I finished my chores. We went to the market. I was hoping to bar-b-que with our neighbors, and maybe play some dominos. Some bit of routine. As I pulled in the driveway and parked, Chas came skipping out the door. (Let me tell you...my husband does not skip. He's a mans man. He does not wear his emotions on his sleeve. So to see him skip was something-especially in our current state of saddness). At the same moment, our neighbor Egg came skipping around the fence to my car. He's not a "skipper" either. So frankly, I was shocked. Why were these two men so excited to see me come home from the market? I was suspcious.

Chas joyfully says "We got you something!". This did not ease my suspicion. Chas is not one to spontaneously get me anything. And if Egg was involved either it was some sort of practical joke or something that was really for them under the cover of being for me. I cautiously walked into the house. What I found did not make me as happy as these too skipping excited man-boys. Hiding under a chair was this dirty thing that I could only guess was some sort of kitten. I turned around to the trouble makers and said "NO." However, when together, these two are no dummies. They knew if Lovey saw it, then we would have to keep it. Being smarter than them, I again said "NO" this time looking directly at Lovey. "You keep it." I said to Egg.

Apparently Egg & Lovey had discussed their presentation. Both know me quite well and know how to push my buttons. Both were familar with how Kimo entered my life and they were going to take full advantage of my weakness for the unloved.

They arrived at the golf course early in the morning as they normally do. One of their foursome had found kitten roaming around. He had also found a shoe box with some air holes poked in it nearby. Apparently someone had abandoned the poor thing in the park next to the golf course. The kitten was terrified and had hidden in the engine block of their friends car (a Lexus, this is important later). After several attempts to get it out, and their tee time fast approaching they finally gave up. Hoping that the cat would stay put until they were done. Well she did. Egg & Chas decided to bring her home. Hoping that either Egg's girlfriend Irish or I would want to keep it.

As they were telling me this story I sat staring at that tiny thing. She was a mess. It was clear that she was very young. Her eyes must have just opened. They were wide and glassy. Still a little blue. She was so dirty that she looked to be grey with black spots instead of the creamy white with cow dots that she is. She was literally covered in fleas. She had an absece on one ear. Whoever had choosen to abandon here hadn't been taking very good care of her.

Egg & Irish are cat people. At the time they had a very mean white Persian & a Bengal. Neither of them open to welcoming another cat into the house. It didn't seem as if this dirty little fur ball would be living next door. Between Irish & I we gave her about 4 baths and managed to get all of the dirt off and most of the fleas. A few heavy doeses of flea repelent and they seemed to dropping off quickly. There she sat, on our neighbors patio table. Wet, scrawney and just plain sad looking. Lovey & Irish starting naming her. Big mistake. If you name, you keep it. They decided that since she was found in a Lexus, she should be named Lexi. Reluctantly I agreed to keep her with us until we could get her to the vet's office and give her up for adoption. Wouldn't you know it, I called first thing Tuesday morning and they couldn't see her for a week. As it turns out, that was just the length of time she needed to make me hers.

Somehow Lexi knew that I was the most resistent to keeping her. Somehow she knew that it was I that finally allowed her to stay. She would creep up and sneak into my lap then flop as if all the bones in her body were gone, and quickly fall asleep purring. She would follow me around the house "talking" to me all the way. It wasn't long before she snuck into my heart. Now, she truly is my cat.


She is somewhat afraid of Chas and his big voice and rough hands. But if he's sitting still it's his warm lap she uses to nap. She is nervous around Lovey and his quick twelve year old body & ever growing feet, but sneaks into his bed at night to snuggle with him. I am her companion. She still follows me wherever I go. Chit-chatting about her day. We carry on conversations about whatever is on my mind. In the midst of packing to go where ever it is I'm going she never fails to start carrying things away or to crawl into the suitcase in an attempt to stop me from going. She loves it when I cook. She'll sit on the kitchen stool and yell at me until I pick her up to show her what I'm working on. She doesn't like "people food", she isn't interested in eating what I'm fixing, she just wants to know what is so important that it's taking attention away from her. When I take a shower she sits on the edge of the tub between the shower curtain & liner, fascinated by the water. Her legs seem to be made of springs. If there is a spider or moth in the house she become obsessed with it. More than once we have found her jumping at least four feet up a wall in attempt to catch watever flying thing she thinks she sees. Once, she jumped up on the cabinet holding the TV, then on top of the TV, then to the ceiling, only to slide all the way down the wall. She is quite the entertainer. She loves to play fetch, but only with me.


We live in a village in the foothills of the San Gabriel mountains. It is not unusual to see coyotes or other wild life. For this reason we decided that Lexi would be an indoor cat (as is Brother). She loves to stare out the windows & watch the world. She is terrified of going out into it though. Once Egg's Bengal cat was sitting on a chair on our porch, hissing and growling at Lexi through the screen. Between the two of them, they hit the screen just right and it popped off. She fell out the window hanging on to the edge for dear life (she would have only fallen about a foot into the chair, no harm would have been done). She could not scramble to get back into the house fast enough. She spent the rest of the day hiding under the bed.

Today has become what we call our Lexiversary. When I say to to her "It's our Lexiversay!" She meows and shakes her head, then rubs against me. I think she is thankful too, for being rescued by us. While Lexi Dot (as she has come to be known) will never fill the void left by Flash and Kimo, she has done so much to ease the pain. She entertains and loves us. She is a tiny angel sent to ease our suffering.

Ode To Those I Love Part II

(Isn't he beautiful!)

May of 2004 was a hard time for us. Flash was so much a part of our daily lives. Nothing we did felt complete without him. We were blindingly sad. We tried to take comfort in each other and those around us. A second loss was coming. One that while maybe not so earth shattering, was one that "broke the dam" so to speak. All of the grief we had been holding in for Flash flowed over into the next.

(The next story may pale in comparison to the last. But to those of you that have pets, it will seem almost as important. It was too me. Sissy..forgive me if some of the details or dates aren't just right)

Kimo Sabe, the Flying Monster Kitty
When I was in high school, somewhere around 1989 or 1990 my sister came home from work with a box full of kittens. Not just one little kitten but a whole litter that had been abandoned. They needed love and homes.

My grandfather was not thrilled. At the time we had at least 3 dogs (although it may have been 4), 2 cats that belonged to us and countess others that came around for food and attention, a fish pond, a bird aviary, and a rabbit. There were more than likely a few tree frogs and toads hanging out in the backyard too. My sister and I grew up in a house that never turned away the abandoned or unloved. However, it seems Grump (as my grandfather is affectionately called) had reached the limit. He reluctantly agreed to let us keep the cats until homes could be found for them all. (You see..he's only grumpy on the outside, he really has a great big HUGE heart). Between the two of us those tiny kittens became fat and happy. We took turns feeding them (more her than I) and eventually homes were found for all. Except....one.

Every litter it seems has the "runt". The littlest one that doesn't seem to get or have enough of anything. This litter was no exception. In the box she brought home was this tiny striped ball of fur that simply shook. He was weak and oh so small. He fit in the palm of our hand. Where the other kittens gained weight and grew strong. He didn't. He sat in a ball and only squeaked from time to time. When friends came to look at the kittens and choose one to take home, no one paid any mind to that little furry ball. He didn't seem as healthy or as rambunctious as the others. We were left with that little ball in the box. Grump was not thrilled. We begged and pleaded to keep him, sure that he only need a little love to grow. But Grump was adamant. NO MORE CATS! But here's the thing about grandpa's. They can't resist their grandaughters..no matter how old they get. Somehow we convinced him (or did he convince us) that this cat was going to die. Grump agreed to let us keep him. BUT...just until he died. Never ones to break a promise to our grandfather. We did. He just took his time getting there.

This is how Kimo Sabe The Flying Monster Kitty came to belong to both of us. We shared him equally. For the most part anyway. Because he was taken away from his mother so early, he really did think that we were his mothers. After the competition was gone it didn't take long at all for this weak, tiny little kitten to grow chubby and feisty. He would lay on his back , in the palm of our hand while being fed with a baby bottle. So hungry and so eager to fill his rapidly expanding belly, that food would run all over him. When finally satisfied, he didn't move, just laid there, belly sticky out, half asleep, as we took a warm washcloth and cleaned him up. When he was old enough to start eating solid food, he more often than not went for a swim in the baby cereal we fed him. Then sat patiently, again, as we cleaned him up. He was a very clean cat. Although he never did learn how to wash his own face. That was reserved for us. His favorite spot was in the middle of my sisters very long, very thick hair. He would crawl up, make a nest and fall asleep.

He was named after The Lone Rangers faithful friend, NOT chemotherapy as so many of our friends took to him. The Flying Monster Kitty part came later, but was well earned. Our bedroom was two steps down from the room next to it, with my bed only a foot or so away from the stairs. Now that he had energy and strength, Kimo took to leaping from the top step, into the middle of my bed, then in to the middle of my sisters bed. At times going so fast it was as if he was flying. Sure, he missed his landing a few times, but this only served to make us laugh, then pet and kiss him, so what did he care. He could be a real monster though. Especially when it came to Grammy. She was never that fond of cats to begin with. I think she is slightly scared of them. He knew this and took full advantage of it. When we weren't around, he would hide under chairs and swipe at her feet when she walked by. As he got older, he took to chasing her around the house. I don't think he ever would have scratched her, but he was happy that she thought he would. He was the boss and wanted everyone to know it.

Kimo was taken from other cats so soon that he really didn't know how to be just a cat. The other two cats we had at the time were primarily outdoor cats and wanted nothing to do with this thing we brought home. The dogs, on the other hand, didn't mind him so much. Because of this, Kimo seemed to be part cat, part dog, part human. He rarely meowed, and when he did it was surprising. And even then it came out more like a bark. He growled quite a bit. Sometimes it was because he was mad at you, sometimes he was just talking. I know that at times, it was him saying simply...I love you. He would growl, nibble my finger or hand..or whatever was closest to him. Not hard, just put his teeth around whatever it was he was biting, then he would look at me with those big Kimo eyes and lick me. Now that was love. Somewhere along the line we taught him to apologize when he bit too hard. A little touch on his nose, a stern "That was mean! Say you're sorry!" and he would. Usually reluctantly, but he would like whatever he bit then run away, sulking. He was not a cat to scratch a person intentionally, but he was fond of hitting you, sometimes rather hard, with his paw.

Kimo Sabe loved to eat...just not cat food. He'd manage to eat dry food but just because he had too. If he wanted water, he wanted it out of a glass. His favorite food was ice cream. He had some strange ice cream sense. Walking into the kitchen brought no response from him. However, if the purpose of walking into the kitchen was for ice cream, he somehow knew first that the freezer was where you were headed and got there first. It was impossible to eat ice cream without sharing. He start off sitting on the floor, staring at you. Then he'd jump up next to you, slowly getting as close as he could. Then if you weren't watching, he reach out and tap your hand as if to say "Please?". If that didn't get a response it wouldn't be long before his nose was sniffing your mouth as you brought the spoon closer. He was always given the dish at the end to lick the bowl, but he wasn't one to be patient.



When my sister began the process an adult makes of leaving the nest, he went with her most of the time. After lovey was born, he lived with me for a short time. Where most cats are terrified of moving, he really didn't care as long as he had my sister or I. When my sister married a man with a great big Bernese (sp) Mountain Dog, he made sure that Shiloh knew not to mess with him. When she moved to Idaho, Kimo went too. Not only did it break my heart that she was going, but she was taking my cat too! It wasn't long before she called to tell me a funny story about him being lost in the field for a couple of days. Of course she didn't tell me about while he was lost. I'm pretty sure that she ws thinking "my sister is going to kill me". It was only safe to tell me AFTER my wonderful brother in law found him, scared to death, in the middle of the garden. My first trip to Idaho, Kimo made sure he let me know he wasn't happy with me for sending him out to the wilderness. But in the middle of the night, he woke me up, lying next to my head purring. He couldn't stay mad at me for long.

A few years went by, and a few more babies entered the world. My sister just didn't have enough time to share with her first baby anymore. It was time to come live with me. He was mad at first, but quickly adapted and made my home his. He would sleep with Lovey at night, and wake me up in the morning by sitting in the hall and staring at me until I got up to feed him. He spent a few years with us before he got sick. One morning I woke up and he wasn't waiting for me in the hall. When I found him, he was in pain. he wouldnt' let me touch him and he couldn't walk. He wouldn't eat. He stayed over night with the vet but they couldn't figure out what was wrong with him and said they would be able to without expense test and possibly surgery. They felt sure he was dying. I was broke and couldn't' afford to spend the money needed to save him. The vet said she could tell he was well loved and agreed to let him come home to die. Two days went by and he was still in pain. He would let me pet only for a minute or so before shying away from me. Then one morning I woke up and there he was staring at me in from the hallway as if nothing had happened. He was Kimo again.

Two years later, I found Kimo in pain again. But this time he couldn't move one of his legs. But this time, he didn't hide, he wanted more than anything to be with me. To be touched and loved. More trips to the vet, and more tests. This time they knew what was wrong. We were told that they couldn't be sure without x-rays, but they were confident that he was Cardiomyopothy (sp). The vet felt he had a blood clot and that is what kept him from being able to move his leg. This disease, in a human, is usually treated with a heart transplant. Not a option for a cat. There was medication for it, but with a cat his age, they didn't feel it would do any good and would be costly. We had to make the decision to put him to sleep.

Although Kimo was an animal. the decision we had to make and the pain we had to go through was too similar to the events of the past month. On the Friday before Memorial Day 2004, just three weeks after the passing of Flash, my husband and I drove Kimo to our vet's office and said goodbye. The night before I fed him ice cream and held him in my lap. All of the tears that I had been holding in since losing Flash came flooding out. How could I love two souls I loved so much in just a few weeks? I choose to stay with Kimo as they put him down. I just couldn't leave him behind to die alone. Again I stood at the feet of a loved one and touched him, talked to him. Cried over him. Again I told stories and said goodbye. My husband and I stood there crying with each other over Kimo and Flash.

The memories of that month are all clouded by the loses of Flash and Kimo. My poor boy turned 10 that year with no party, no fun. He lost his favorite uncle and his cat in one swoop. While we have not quite learned to fill in the holes left behind by Flash & Kimo. Just a few days later we started to heal with love from an unlikely source.

An Ode to those I love

I have decided something. (When I say this or "I have an idea" to my sister or husband it's usually greeted with something like "uh oh". In this case, as in most cases, that is not a fair response. They do it just to drive me crazy.)

I have decided that the people I love should be told so NOW. Not tomorrow. Not when it's too late, but now. Not that they don't already know how much I love them. For the most part, I think they do. But what they don't know...What they haven't heard...Is my Ode To Them. I realized through spending time here that I use the word love frequently. The thing is....I mean it when I say it. I'm usually referring to a specific person. I failed when it came to my fathers death. I let my fear get the best of me and I didn't take the chance to let him know how much I loved him. I'm not sure he knew. I let the chance pass me again with my sweet brother in law. Although, I'm fairly sure he knew. So here it is. Here I will begin my Odes to those I love.


I am choosing to start this process with the events of May 2004 and the loss of two souls that I truly cherished. Everything changed that year. In my home...We are still recovering. Or rather, trying to learn to live with the changes.




Flash....
Flash was born in May 1961. 11 months & 20 days behind one brother and 12 months 29 days before another. Both of them blue eyed blonds and both with a wild streak. Here was Flash with his thick dark hair and hazel eyes and a gentle spirit. (One more brother would come a year later-the gifted son that no one could compete with.)
He was born sick. He couldn't breath. He spent most of his early childhood in and out of hospitals. Always with a wrong diagnosis and never with a cure. At one point he even lived in a home for people with tuberculosis. No one could figure out what was wrong with this little boy. They knew he had asthma, but also that there was something much much more serious happening. Sometime in his late teens they decided it was a bronchial disease, but still didn't have it quite right.

Even though Flash spent most of his years fighting to breathe he never let it slow him down. He had older sisters doting on him and his brothers to keep up with. If they could ride their skateboards up and down the Hollywood Hills, so could he. If they could hike to the Hollywood sign and be mischievous, so could he. If they could sneak into the backyards of the rich and famous for some wall rides in an empty pool, so could he. He might have been a bit slower, maybe he couldn't spin as fast as they could, but he could do anything his brothers did. They were his best friends. Especially Chas. Because Flash had spent so much time away from school he was a year behind, that meant he was in the same grade as Chas. He was his shadow. They went everywhere together and did everything together.

He carried this spirit of can-do into his adult life. He joined the Army. Hiding just how bad his lungs were. He was discharged a few weeks into boot camp after they found out how bad he was. But he gave it the effort and that's all that mattered. He met a girl and had a huge wedding. They lived in a cute little house then a cute little apartment. She gave up on him when she realized that she couldn't spend her life taking care of him-they separated. I think it broke his heart. He moved to Colorado to start a new life, only to find out that the air was too thin for his frail lungs to take. He came home. He moved in with Chas, me, and his new baby nephew, Lovey. He saw his wife again only two or three times. All the while, waiting for her to file for divorce. He just couldn't bring himself to be the one. Being the coward she was, she waited until the last possible moment to finally divorce him. Just in time to remove herself from any legal responsibility.

As John grew older, his lungs continued to get worse. He would wake up in the middle of the night unable to breathe with blood in his lungs. Finally, FINALLY, the right doctor was found and Flash was correctly diagnosed. But the prognosis wasn't good. His lungs were failing fast, quickly turning to scar tissue, unable to expand, unable to breathe for him. He was quickly put on the transplant list. A few years went by before he got the call..Then it was a false alarm. But somehow, a few weeks later, the call did come. They had a set of lungs for him, all he had to do was get to USC Hospital fast. Chas rushed him to the hospital and that night Flash had a double lung transplant. Yes...Both of his dying lungs were removed and replaced with fresh and healthy lungs.

Recovery was a long and difficult process. The body doesn't want to accept what doesn't belong there. He was given endless bottles of medication. Because of all of the drugs, he became a diabetic. A side effect of transplants. More medication to take. He was finally able to come home and lived with one of his sisters for a few months. He then found a tiny little studio apartment in the village he loved. A short walking distance to Chas' house and below the hiking trail where he enjoyed walking his sisters dog. These hikes helped strengthen his spirit and his lungs. Little did we know that he was lifting the spirits of other people on the same hiking path.

Another few years went by and Flash seemed to be doing well. He had moments of physical weakness, and a few scares. But all in all, he seemed to be doing fine. He even took part in the Transplant Olympics in Florida. He dated, took care of himself. Golfed and hiked. Spent time with his nieces and nephews, and parents. Then, in the summer of 2003 he came down with a cold. He was checked into the hospital. From that point on...He was in and out of the hospital. Never really making it back to where he was before. At first it was the aspergilous (sp). Then chronic rejection, then full rejection. The new year began with Flash spending more and more time in the hospital. Each time was that much harder to see him go in. More than once he called us in the wee hours of the morning, or late at night to drive him to LA. All of us knew what was happening, but we were terrified to say it out loud. After Easter, in 2004, Flash entered the hospital for the last time. He wasn't breathing. He almost lost his fight for life in the emergency room. He was put on a ventilator and heavily sedated to keep him from fighting the very machine that was keeping him alive.

A few days later the doctor asked to meet with the whole family. Six of us were there that day-all of us that were closest to Flash..Those of us that took care of him. We were told that he would never be able to come off of the ventilator. That he would never be able to breath on his own, or be taken off of the sedation. They told us that he would have to spend his life in a home. We were asked to make a decision. It shocked me then, and does now, how casually this was discussed. It's not that the doctor wasn't caring, he was. It was just so matter of fact. As if the decision we were being asked to make was not one to end a life, but to switch off a light. The air was heavy. As if the weight of our un-wept tears hung from the walls. I will never forget the way my father in law looked that day. In that one hour..That one moment, all the light from him was gone. Somehow, as terrible as it seems, the decision was simple to make. There was no disagreement, there was very little discussion.

Flash, who loved to be outdoors. To golf, and hike. To play with his nieces and nephews. To play cards with his dad. This beautiful man that was so willing to share everything he had -which wasn't much-with anyone who needed it, would never be able to stand in the sunshine again. He would never be able to play a slow game of dominos. He would never again laugh with Lovey. He would never again be the one to give me a hug or just come over to talk to me when I was feeling overwhelmed. Living on a ventilator in a hospital was not an option. It was not the life he was meant to live.

We choose to wait a week before we made the final decision. It was out blind hope that a miracle would happen. That he would breathe again on his own. I knew, we all knew, that it was time to let go. My heart, my brain, my everything told me that it was time to say goodbye. He was already gone.

The day before his birthday, May 4th 2004. Chas & I, two of my sisters in law, and Flash's best friend came to be with him. The clinical part was done quickly. Truly a simple flip of a switch. We held his hand. We shared stories. We laughed and we cried. We watched him go. We let him go.

Shortly after his death, we learned of the lives he touched. One woman he met on the hiking path told us of his encouragement. She was overweight and hiking for exercise. Everytime he saw her, he would smile and tell her how great she looked. She never knew he was sick. She said that his smile, and his generous, unselfish, anonymous support of stranger helped her to carry on. The outpouring of love for Flash and the unending tales of his kindess carried us though. He was the kindest man I have ever known.

Flash was so much a part of our daily life. I spent time with, or spoke to him everyday. I cooked for him almost every night. His absence is felt everyday. I cry thinking of him. Not for him...It's selfishness. I cry for my loss. For his families. I weep for all of the time the Lovey will not be able to share with him. For all of the domino games he won't beat me out of. I know that he is in a better place. He is with the mother and brother he lost. He is happy. He can breathe.

to be continued....

I'm home

I'm home..back from where most of my heart lives. It was sooo very hard to leave. Especially when my beautiful Minnie tells me at least 100 times "I wish you didn't have to go home". And Monkey and Mr Magoo..how I love them too. So sad that they fell asleep without one file hug. I am so loved by those three that it's almost overwhelming. One of those "what did I ever do to deserve so much" kinds of love. I was just there in December but already those three have changed so much. Minnie is tall and beautiful and so much her momma. Magoo has got to be the sweetest little boy ever. He is to thoughtful and kind. My sister is definitely doing something right with her children!

My greatest joy this trip had to have been Monkey. I was so afraid that he would not want to be with me, or have me touch him. Minnie & Magoo...they just oooze excitement when they see me and I can hug and kiss them endlessly without them ever being satisfied (me either for that matter) but Monkey...I always want to do the same to him, but know I have to do it on his terms. It always breaks my heart a little. But not this time. I walked upstairs and he was excited to see me. I could have cried tears of joy! He was so excited that he RAN into the bed his brother and sister were asleep in and bounced with the joy of knowing first that we had come to see them and wanting them to wake up and see me too. We carried on 2 year old conversations and played together. "You wanna play with me" ...oh....if I could have recorded that voice! This is a bit a joy I will carry for a long time. I know it won't always be that easy. But at least I now know that I have made an impression on him too and that even if he has a hard time letting me know, that he loves me as much as I love him.

Seeing my grandparents was wonderful and sad at the same time. I love them so much and they are aging. My grandmother has changed. There was so much I wanted to say to her, but couldn't for fear of her being sad. She wrote Lovey a letter as if to say goodbye. She didn't want him to read it until we were on the airplane. We read it at the airport. I literally broke my heart. This woman that has meant so much to me..that has guided me through life, is sick and I can't be with her. I can't fix it. I can't pat her leg and tell her it will be alright like she has done to me countless times. She is an amazing woman. I can't imagine my life without her.

I have to end for now. Life carries on outside of this bl*g. More later.

Tag you're it. ABC meme

Like I said...two in two days. It's fun though.

Accent: I suppose I have a California accent since I live here. Though I don't really know what that would sound like. If I talk to anyone with even a hint of a southern accent I immediately pick it up. After summers in OK the word y'all would be stuck for a while. Still creeps in on occasion.

Book I like: Changed this to just book because it's broader. My current favorite book is The Time Travelers Wife by Audrey Niffengger (positive I've spelled that wrong). Starts off a bit sci-fi which I don't normally like, but it is really a beautiful love story. East of Eden & Of Mice & Men by John Steinbeck are at the top of my list too.

Chore I don't care for: Cleaning the bathtub. Is there an easy way to do this? One that doesn't involve getting on my knees on the bathroom floor? Hard work.

Dog or Cat: Not a fair question. I love them both. I have cats and I can't have a dog right now. Much like people, it depends on their personality. I haven't ever met a cat or dog that didn't like me though.

Essential Electronics: I suppose none of them are essential, humans have lived with out them for centuries. BUT, being the modern girl I am, I must have my MP3 player at work to tune out the girl that sits next to me. She sings, off key, in spanish, all day long. If she's not singing off key she talks nonstop. A bit distracting. Also...must have my curling iron. Because, if I can't have my hairdryer, at least I can let my crazy hair (trust me..it's crazy) dry naturally then straighten/curl it with the iron.

Favorite cologne: Romance by Ralph Lauren

Gold or Silver: White Gold or Platinum.

Handbag I carry most often: I change it a lot. I once had a great green leather satchel with hot pink linen lining. I LOVED IT. But something spilled on it and it was never the same again. Started to smell bad so I had to get rid of it. I will spend the rest of my shopping days hoping to find it's equal.

Insomnia: Sometimes. Tonight...yes.

Job Title: Underwriter for mortgage loans. Thrilling isn't it.

Kids: My sweet lovey. Boy...just turned 12

Living arrangements: Living in the crummiest, cheapest rent we could find, house in the nicest neighborhood. I live in a small quiet village in the foothills. No stop lights. Median house price is 1 million though, so I think I'll keep renting my crummy house for a while.

Most admirable trait: Don't know really. Something someone else should answer. I am an incredibly loyal person. I'm like a dog that way. I also have the ability

Naughtiest childhood behavior: My sister and I were pretty good. I don't know that I was every really that naughty. I did take my sisters things without asking. Although I'm sure my bossy sister will have something else to say about this subject.

Overnight hospital stays: Just two.

Phobias: Used to be spiders, but I'm pretty much over that, except for really big ones. Living in the foothills where spiders are EVERYWHERE will cure you fast. Still terrified of bees and wasps. Just thinking about the sound makes me nauseous (SP?)

Quote: There are so many I like. I have several of my favorites hung up in my cubicle at work. Working in a cubicle..sometimes you need some inspiration.

"You must be the change you wish to see in the world" Mahatma Gandhi. I will forever try to live up to this.

"If you cannot be the poet, be the poem", David Carradine. Sit and think on this one and it becomes beautiful.

"The best portion of a good man's life: his little, nameless, unrememberd acts of kindness and love" William Wordsworth.


Religion: None. For me, faith is enough.

Siblings: Okay...here's something that really touches me. I grew up with just my sister. I love her madly and I am thankful everyday for her. I can't imagine life without her and pray that when our time comes we can pass within hours of each, so that I never have to exist without her. She has always been enough. She married a man that was made for her. He has somehow learned to survive the two of us. He is my brother, and I'm blessed to have him.

Then I married a man with 4 brothers and 6 sisters (before you start thinking his parents were crazy...1 brother & 2 sisters are "steps") From those 10 brothers & sisters I now have an additional 4 brother & sisters in law. I went from 1 lovely sister to having 16 brothers and sisters! Talk about overwhelming.

Of those 16 people, 3 brothers have passed away. I was only fortunate enough to know one of them, but he was an incredibly special person. I miss him everyday. I'm crying now, just thinking of his smiling face. I have grown very close to 3 of my "new" sisters. They are incredibly unique from each other, but all loving and kind. I'm glad to have them.
Time I wake up:

Unusual talent or skill: Oh I don't know. There are 26 of these questions. I can't guess what my unusual talent is. :)

Vegetable I refuse to eat: Okra. Too many summers spent forcing it down out of courtesy to older relatives. I know avoid it at all costs. Brussle sprouts are bad too.

X Rays: Just once.

Yummy stuff I cook: Apple pecan cheesecake. Boston cream cheesecake. Mushroom mashed potatoes. Fried chicken. Dad Salad (pasta & tuna). Chicken enchiladas. Pasta Fagiole.

Zoo animal I like most: Zoos make me sad. I do love the chimpanzees & apes though. Just recently spent over an hour each watching the Gorillas then the orangutan at the San Diego zoo.

Okay..that was enough for one day. I'm pooped now!

Meme

Where have I been? How did I say away a month. It's not as if I haven't had anything to say.

So my big sister tagged EVERYONE with two meme's in two days. The nerve! Since I'll be with her tomorrow night at about this time, best to answer (respond, continue? What is the right word) right away. She is bossy after all.

What is your favorite word? Serendipity. The way it sounds..What it means. The word.

What is your least favorite word? Belch. The way it sounds. Both the word and the thing itself. Even the way it looks is bad.

What turns you on creatively, spiritually or emotionally?Creatively: Other amazingly talented people. A really good book or poem makes me want to write. A beautiful piece of art makes me want create the same beauty. Spiritually: Sun light filtered through clouds. That, to me, is evidence of God. Emotionally: Lol..what doesn't. I'm pretty emotional. I can cry or laugh at just about everything. As my grandma says..What you see is what you get. I cannot, try as I might, hide my emotions. I wear them on my sleeve.

What turns you off? Rudeness. Impatience. Intolerance. Cruelty.

What is your favorite curse word? Alright, now that my sister had made me wound like a potty mouth...which I'm not. I rarely swear..I have to set the record straight. The most I usually say is DAMN, in that under the breath, shocked or frustrated way. Usually at myself. However, when really frustrated with someone, I have been known to use the word DUMBA**. Mostly because the word itself makes me giggle. And who doesn't need a laugh in the middle of being frustrated?

What sound or noise do you love? The children in my life giggling. Not laughing, that's different, giggling. Rain. The ocean.

What sound or noise do you hate? A nose whistling. Especially if it's me.

What profession other than your own would you like to attempt?
Writer, artist, teacher

What profession would you not like to do? Anything involving bodily fluids.

What would you like to hear God say when you arrive at the Pearly Gates? Welcome home.

That's it. Now you are all tagged. :)