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Ramblings from a Southern liberal, Boomer, single parent, grandmother, reunited birthmother, cancer survivor, pop-culture observer, retired teacher

Most dramatic lymphoma posts are from June 2002 - February 2003 archives.

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The Waking

I wake to sleep, and take my waking slow.
I feel my fate in what I cannot fear.
I learn by going where I cannot go.

We think by feeling. What is there to know?
I hear my being dance from ear to ear.
I wake to sleep, and take my waking slow.

Of those so close beside me, which are you?
God bless the Ground! I shall walk softly there,
And learn by going where I have to go.

Light takes the Tree, but who can tell us how?
The lowly worm climbs up a winding stair;
I wake to sleep, and take my waking slow.

Great Nature has another thing to do
To you and me; so take the lively air,
And, lovely, learn by going where to go.

This shaking keeps me steady. I should know.
What falls away is always. And is near.
I wake to sleep, and take my waking slow.
I learn by going where I have to go.

--Theodore Roethke


Joy's Updates - Straight from the Horse's Mouth.
Wednesday, February 22, 2006  

I'm going to try not to get another cat. I have Brigit, the blonde drama queen, who is at loose ends since Columbo died. She sleeps more, which for a cat means not much awake time, and wants me to hold her or be near her when she's awake. She's also bored. I'm not interesting enough for her, so she lets me know. This is what got me into having other cats to begin with. I've had her since 1997 when my daughter-in-law found her in an actual field when Melissa was doing field work for the State Department of Conservation identifying endangered plants. She also drew illustrations of them. But I digress. Brigit hissed at Columbo and had a strange relationship with him. I guess that's how she showed him she cared that he existed, but who knows? When I had to leave Columbo at the vet clinic the first time, I held up the pet carrier with Brigit in it since she was there to get shots. I told her he was staying there and let her see him. She hissed. He lifted his head and turned toward her. It was sort of sweet in an odd way.

She seemed glad to be an only cat when he was gone but acted the same to him when he was back home those two nights. Then I brought him back home and put the box he was in on the carport. When I came inside and put the pet carrier down, Brigit heard it and ran over to it waiting for him to emerge. Then she walked over to it, looked inside, and noticed it was empty. She kept looking for him for a while and still does now and then. It's sad. We both miss him.

I've always wanted a Maine Coon cat and have checked out places that breed and sell them. I'm glad they care about the people their cats will live with, but it's like having a relationship with them. They have to approve of you and then want to keep in touch. Check out the adoption agreements and all those rules! It's intimidating. I don't want a show cat but a pet. Maybe I don't want a pure breed but another Maine Coon Clone like Clancy was. He looked like a smaller version of one. Columbo was larger than he was and had some of the characteristics, too. See? It's not going to be that easy for me to resist getting another cat, but my intentions are to be catless after Brigit. We'll see.

Brigit and I are both depressed. We miss Columbo.

I realize this post fully puts me in the category of "old woman living alone with cats and talks to them like they are people." What can I say?

1:07:00 AM

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