Skip to main content

Kittens

I was nudged to do a kitten update, so here it is. This was taken by my youngest daughter using my camera phone. We'd use our camera but hubby took it with him to Whistler this weekend. Yep, he's off skiiing with the two oldest offspring while I contemplate how to rip my spine out of my body and straighten it out so I can walk again. Wheeeeeee! More meds please!

Image hosting by Photobucket

Comments

  1. is there no end to the cuteness?
    actually, i can see a warped mind seeing this photo and telling you 'please do not feed the kittens to the firemonster!'

    there is a gray cat who lives across from me and it is taking everything not to go ring the bell, introduce myself to the owner and then run over and cuddle the cat...who might scratch me in terror.

    ReplyDelete
  2. I'd give you one of my kittens if you lived closer!

    ReplyDelete
  3. and i would hug it and squeeze it and call it george! remember the cartoon?

    ReplyDelete
  4. YES!! I do remember that cartoon. How funny. I say that to my husband all the time. "I'll hug you and kiss you and name you George!"

    ReplyDelete
  5. Heh! My wife says that to me on occasion. I'm still wondering who George is though. She won't tell me.

    I do love the basket full of babies Pamela. Let us know when you decide to keep them all. You know you will. Sure you will .....

    ReplyDelete
  6. No, no, no. no! I can't keep them all. Although last night I came very close to saying yes when my youngest came to me with tears in her ears, saying she would take care of them, really she would. It's hard to say no to such an earnest child. They've even named each kitten. Twitchy, Rufus, Angel Puss and... Hmm. I've forgotten the name of the last one.

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

Go ahead....tell me the truth :)

Popular posts from this blog

A Poem to an Abusive Man

I've been doing a bit of research on abuse, domestic violence and how it usually ends. It's not pretty and it's painful and I hurt every time I read another woman's tale of horror.

Did you know that emotional abuse is as detrimental as physical abuse? And that most emotional abusers continue on to become physical abusers? I didn't. I do now. I found a site where formerly abused women, on the path to recovery from their abusers, have written poems. This one below is one that haunted me.

Thank You

You wooed me with poetry
I bit on the hook
Had I only first read
The name of the book

I would have avoided
The very first page
For pages kept turning
Revealing the rage

The ups were a great high
The ride was a bash
But I rode with my eyes closed
To avoid seeing the crash
I knew it would come soon
But I never knew when
The rage and the leaving
And the path to the end

You had to control things
Determined you would
Emotionally destroying me
Every way that you could

Elderly Abuse

I heard a loud thud the other morning around 3:30 a.m. I checked my monitor but he'd once again turned it to the wall so I was unable to see if he was still in bed. I went downstairs right behind my sweet husband and dad was on the living room floor moaning and holding his head. He'd fallen. Hard.


The first picture is the day of the fall. The second is the day after. The black eye keeps blossoming. He has a gash on his head, hidden by his silver hair and he skinned his shoulder/arm. He's a mess.

Was he using his walker? Nope. 85 year old toddlers cannot be told what to do. Or rather, they can be told what to do, they simply won't comply. Ever. In fact they get down right angry and throw fits. It's not pretty.

His physical therapist came to the house the next day and strongly told him to use his walker EACH TIME HE STOOD UP. Has he? Nope. Nyet. He was very angry with me yesterday because I kept asking him to use his walker. Also, I asked him i…

Back

BACK

Back on the horse
Monkey on his back
I see no light
Not even a crack
Back to delusions
Back to the lies
I see through his words
He can't hear my cries

Back into his soul
Back into his veins
The poison he pours
Dark liquid his chains

Backed into a corner
Heartbroken and torn
Back into the needle
The eye of the storm

Back to the wall
Soul bruised torn and broken
Back to my pain
His eyes half open

Back into the horror
Will he ever come back
Back into the nightmare
A needle in a sack

Back into his childhood
I loved him with fury
Looking back on his life
His choices my jury

How did this happen
Back to evil and sin
How can he do this
Lines on his skin

Back to my weeping
Back to my sorrow
My son, my love,
Has no more tomorrows
(all rights reserved)