Handsome fellow, isn't he? Now here is the BUT! Captain Jack Sparrow came to live with us about three and a half years ago. He was so tiny ...he fit in one hand. Now, he weighs about 18 pounds and likes to walk on us when we are in bed which is the only 'safe haven' for petting him.... on the bed, that is. (Tex claims Jack has knowledge of human anatomy and deliberately walks on his -Tex's- bladder around 5:30 every morning!) At other times, it is an understatement to say that he is unpredictable. In self defence, we had him declawed, but he still has teeth...and, although he is getting better, he bites. Thus we are very cautious about trying to pet him outside of the bedroom.....visitors are warned, but don't always heed the danger. Like his namesake, Jack is a pirate and quite capable of betraying you even as he smiles, rubs your leg, lovingly looks into your eyes, and chomps down on any convenient appendage! Last Sunday I was lounging in the recliner elbow deep in a romance novel (more about my vice later) when Jack pops up in the arm and nudges my hand to the top of his head. "What do you want, Jack?" "Pets." says Jack. Not one to miss an opportunity to be kind to the scaliwag I scratched and petted him for about 10 minutes...Could our resident villain be mellowing? He still has not won my complete trust, but we are working on a truce. Ah, Jack ....we really want to love you and you make it so difficult!
Thursday, January 31, 2008
Wednesday, January 23, 2008
oops!
I'm just learning (..say does this thing have a spell check?...oh dear, I'm in trouble!)...Courtesy of my calf, Betty, who created this lovely place, today I start my first ...ugh...blog. ( I've always hated jargon. Only those who are "in" understand the terminology are privileged enough to participate in the conversation. )
I'm 61 years old, retired and enjoying life. Well, I've always enjoyed life. I was born in Texas, but never really felt much like a Texan. At 23 (1970)..almost 24..my husband and I moved to Denver and never looked back. We moved all our earthly possessions in the back of Triumph Spitfire....that included an imperious Siamese Cat who had just been neutered. She was not very pleased. Between 1970 and 1981, I learned to ski, started backpacking, had a baby. By 1981, Betty was old enough to graze own her own, so I started back to work. For 24 years I worked as an English as a second language ...uh.."specialist"...I also don't the word teacher..because you really can't teach anyone anything...you can only help them learn.
Marrying and becoming a mother helped me grow-up and see that my own wants and needs weren't always as important to me as those of my family.
Working with English language learners helped me widen my world and learnhow insulated my life had always been.
More later. That's enough for today.
FOR TOMMORROW: A RECIPE FOR CHOCOLATE PAN CAKE
I'm 61 years old, retired and enjoying life. Well, I've always enjoyed life. I was born in Texas, but never really felt much like a Texan. At 23 (1970)..almost 24..my husband and I moved to Denver and never looked back. We moved all our earthly possessions in the back of Triumph Spitfire....that included an imperious Siamese Cat who had just been neutered. She was not very pleased. Between 1970 and 1981, I learned to ski, started backpacking, had a baby. By 1981, Betty was old enough to graze own her own, so I started back to work. For 24 years I worked as an English as a second language ...uh.."specialist"...I also don't the word teacher..because you really can't teach anyone anything...you can only help them learn.
Marrying and becoming a mother helped me grow-up and see that my own wants and needs weren't always as important to me as those of my family.
Working with English language learners helped me widen my world and learnhow insulated my life had always been.
More later. That's enough for today.
FOR TOMMORROW: A RECIPE FOR CHOCOLATE PAN CAKE
Sunday, January 20, 2008
Hey, y'all!!
Well howdy there folks. My daughter, Betty, started a newfangled thang called a "blog" for me, so I can let her know that she doesn't call often enough. She's a super-swell daughter and the Bull and I are mighty proud of her! (Of course, Betty is the cowgirl that is writing this post right now, as I can't seem to coordinate my hooves well enough to type.)
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