A Blogger at WorkLast night I went down the rabbit hole on my computer. I was innocently doing some final adjustments to the book I have been working on and then - POP! - the cover changed and about a third of it was missing. I tried not to panic, but the fixes just made it worse and my working file was ruined. Luckily I had saved some PDF files but it will be a long slog to get the working file redone.
That was not the worst of it. All of a sudden my scroll bars disappeared. I found the horizontal one but it had turned the screen into a book with pages that flipped instead of scrolling. More panic and frustration ensued until I accidentally rediscovered the vertical scroll bar. I don’t have a clue what I did, but I figured it was a good time to quit and go to bed before I created any more disasters. This morning I got up. Turned on the computer and finished making corrections on my book. I can use the PDF files for the cover without redoing it. It took ten minutes. DONE! I feel like Alice in Wonderland testing out which bottle of potion will make me bigger or smaller. I know I am not the only one who has fallen into another dimension using Microsoft word. I have used it for a long time, but not for anything as daunting as a book. There are so many hidden features that magically disappear and reappear like the Cheshire Cat; it’s easy to get lost and overwhelmed. The good thing is that I think I am done with the book. I have thought this same thought many times before over the multitude of months I have spent writing, editing, rewriting, re-editing, and re-re-editing, but I think this is it. I have one more meeting with a friend who is helping me edit and then it’s time to download onto KDP (Amazon’s Kindle Direct Publishing) with the help of another friend. Just the thought that I might actually be done left me gobsmacked. I was beginning to think I would be working on this book until I died. Someone would find me hunched over my laptop, or crumpled into a heap in my recliner, still clutching my iPad. I feel relieved and lost at the same time, not to mention a little afraid. It’s one thing to put my blog on Facebook where my friends and family read what I write, it’s another thing to publish a book on amazon.com. I find a certain amount of comfort knowing that it will be just one of the millions of books available online. In 2015 I started writing my blog inspired by my housemate Fin who is an excellent writer and artist. I have had some stops and starts, but after my sister Lin died I felt compelled to write in a way I had never felt before. I think of her, and my sister Sue, and my mom and dad, looking down from heaven and cheering me on. It’s a risk-taking venture to put my thoughts, hopes, and dreams into words and share them with someone besides my cat. I didn’t think I was much of a risk-taker but I surprised myself. It’s an adventure that has happened little steps at a time and it feels like Wonderland, surprising, scary, and full of possibilities.
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The other day I had a craving for biscuits. I tried to resist, but before I knew it the tube of Grands was in my grocery cart. I cracked open the can as soon as I got home, even though they would have kept in the refrigerator for a while. As soon as they were out of the oven I ate three.
Oops, that was a mistake. I knew I was headed into my addictive food zone but I ate another one for dinner anyway. These are not the deliciously crumbly, light and airy biscuits you make from scratch. They are like Wonder Bread; soft and squishy, they flatten out when you bite into them. And yet I couldn’t stop eating them. It wasn’t until the next day, and I had distanced myself from my biscuit compulsion by tossing the rest in the garbage the night before, that I remembered the last time I ate biscuits was with my twin sister Linda. It was one of the times when she came out to California so that we could celebrate Christmas and our January birthday together, a year before she passed away in February 2021. We were both feeling under the weather, so instead of a fancy dinner, we had canned chicken noodle soup and tube biscuits, which we ate on New Years Eve, wearing our pajamas. It was one of the best New Years I have ever had. Of course the reason it was wonderful had nothing to do with biscuits or chicken noodle soup. It was about being together with the sister I loved. Just being in the same room with her was the best Christmas present I could imagine. I have a lifetime of memories about past Holidays and they fill my soul when I think about them. Thank goodness I have been around the compulsive eating rodeo enough times to not turn a can of biscuits into an excuse for diving headlong into my food addiction. I am grateful I recognized what I was really hungry for. It was a perfect reminder to acknowledge that this is the time of year when I miss the loved ones I have lost, more than ever. I need to feed my heart with wonderful memories, instead of my stomach with food. And I need to be happy I can create some new memories too. I am watching the squirrels cavorting. They are chasing each other around my back deck. Little do they know that just a few feet away, death lurks. I am not the only one watching them. My cat Abby is glued to the window. Only a sheet of glass is keeping the squirrels safe. Yes, I resent the fact that the squirrels have been helping themselves to the tomatoes in my garden, but I wouldn’t wish Abby on any wild creature. I developed a lot more sympathy for her prey after she bit me recently. This was not a playful nip; it was a full-on jaw-clamping attack on my upper arm. It required a visit to the walk-in-clinic, a week of antibiotics, and a tetanus shot. I made a mistake grabbing her in a way that frightened her, and those old natural cat instincts kicked in. I won’t do that again. Cats are killers. It’s in their DNA. I learned this as a kid, watching nature documentaries on TV. One minute a pride of lions is lounging around grooming themselves and each other, the next minute they’re chasing a gazelle and ripping it to bits. House cats are just a mini version of the big cats. One minute they are rolling playfully in the dirt, the next they are coming within inches of turning a squirrel into lunch. I read recently that they are the most effective hunting animals on the planet. I have been observing Abby in the wild a lot lately. She has managed to periodically escape the backyard, so I have been doing supervised visits with her outdoors. Stalk, pounce, kill, eat, are repeated over and over as she plays. She hasn’t actually killed anything bigger than a bug, but she’s working on it. Several times I have saved a squirrel from certain death by distracting her so that they could get away. I know this is expected cat behavior but I don’t want to clean up the aftermath. Obviously I need a new strategy for handling her. I will never again pick her up that way. So far a calm demeanor and gentle hand have been working. I knew she had an attitude but this is a serious issue that demands constant vigilance. I’m not giving up on her, I am just being conscious about not getting into any kind of a battle with her. She is still a teenager so I am hoping that, with some help, she will grow out of her more aggressive behavior. She can be a killer cat in a good way too. Most of the time she is a sweetie. She loves to lounge in my lap when I am watching TV. It’s hard to even imagine that she is the same cat that attacked my arm when she is splayed out belly up on my lap like a limp mop. I have never had a cat like her. She is the best of cats and the worst of cats. I have decided I am going to talk to a Cat Whisperer. A friend is giving me a reference to someone who has a special gift with animals. I am ready to try some alternative ideas with my fur baby.
I miss my sisters, Linda, my twin sister who died in 2021, and our older sister Sue who died in 1990. Because we lived far from each other, we used to talk a lot on the phone. I wish there was a phone to heaven. We were always close, but when we were young the age gap seemed bigger. Sue was a teenager when Lin and I were in elementary school. We were in awe of her clothes and her friends, and mesmerized by the things she did, especially dating BOYS! We could be annoying too. Sometimes Lin and I would gang up on her and tease her about the boys she dated or “borrow” clothes out of her closet without asking. There were two of us and only one of her, which I’m sure was really frustrating for her. But the older we got the more we had in common and the 5 year distance in our ages disappeared. Sue paved the way for Lin and me on the journey to adulthood. We watched as she did things we could only dream of, going to football games and parties with her friends, graduating from high school and college, getting a job as a teacher in southern Minnesota, and meeting the love of her life, Jim. We were bridesmaids at her wedding. I wanted to be like her. Lin was my confidant and partner in crime. We went on adventures around the neighborhood, making forts in the tall grassy area at the end of the block. We invented lives for her Bonnie Braids doll and “Teddy” my stuffed bear. We planned entertainments with our friends and held performances on our front porch. After we went to bed at night in the room we shared, I would tell her all my secret fears and dreams. I was lucky to have Sue and Lin in my life. We supported each other as kids and that connection continued into our adult lives. I miss being able to share the good things in my life as well as the comfort they offered when I was going through difficult times. I miss being a sounding board for their struggles and a cheerleader when they needed encouragement. I learned to be a better person with the help of my sisters and that is reflected in my life today. The give and take and mutual support that I had with Lin and Sue is still alive and well, even though they are no longer on this planet. I am grateful that I have many friends who are like family to me, who have become the sisters I lost and the brothers I never had. These relationships are the legacy of being lucky enough to be a sister. |
Leslie Masona woman in search of her post-retirement future Guess what! By subscribing, you get notices about the latest Little Old Lady with Cats posts sent to your mailbox!
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(from an entry posted on 5/1/2015) “I definitely fit some of the characteristics of a little old lady with cats: Retired - check, Single - check, Like to knit - check, Have cats - check. . .I do not want to get stuck in my Little Old Lady persona, however. In fact, this blog is a risk taking experiment in exploring and redefining what I want my retired life to look like.” Categories
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