Breathing

I have been filling my spare moments with reading this weekend past.

I have stumbled upon writers who make me "feel". Their words fill me up and inspire me. I have been inhaling their words.

I came upon this phrase in my travels:

"Reading is Like Breathing in; Writing is Like Breathing out"

~Pam Allyn 

I will exhale another day. This morning I am still inhaling the goodness of the words that found their way into my world.

Lighting Up the Season

Where there are house cats, there are inventive ways to create a Christmas tree.

I don't trust the look of Jet as he studies the trajectory required to leap to the top of this man-made Christmas scene.

With all the newly painted and refinished surfaces, Christmas is going to look a lot different around here this year. 

Just Be You

This was the quote that spoke to me this morning:

"Just be you ... and if people don't like it, find new people"

Perhaps it was the picture that accompanied the quote - a picture of a little girl with black rimmed glasses that magnified her eyes and at first glance, her hair looked untamed and a little wild (at second glance, her hair looks just fine). 

The picture reminded me of a young version of me, feeling absolutely beautiful, with leotards on my head (in my make believe world, the leotards were my long and flowing hair), wearing Mom's high heel shoes. I remember the disappointment I felt when that picture was developed. I thought I was beautiful. I couldn't believe the ugly little girl the camera captured. It was akin to listening to my actual singing voice on a tape recorder many years later.

I thought of the picture. It was taken in the days when it cost money for every picture on the roll of film. One didn't take excessive pictures in those days. What was Mom thinking when she allowed precious, hard earned cash to develop this picture?

What was she thinking??

Was she amused? Did I ask her to take the picture? Did she realize I would regret having this picture taken? Did she think I was beautiful too? What was going on in her mother-brain when she captured this image? Did she know"this" would be the picture I keep coming back to in my adult years? The years where I continue to battle the feeling that the inner me doesn't match the outer me?

My memory of myself in this picture is actually much, much worse than the reality. Now that I've grown up and have a little better sense of who I am, this photo doesn't bother me. I'm glad I have it. It marks a significant memory of who I was and who I dreamed I could be.

In the same stack of photos, I found this one right along beside the uglier version of myself:

It was the Christmas I wanted a nurse hat more than anything else (it is hard to see it here, but I am quite certain that is what is on my head). I think Mom made me a nurse outfit too - I recall conversations where it is said the only thing I wanted for Christmas that year was a nurse hat and a Penny Brite doll.

The memories of conversations between Mom and my sister about this particular Christmas sift through my mind as I write. The memories aren't mine but as I Googled Penny Brite's image, I found a picture of Penny Brite sitting at a school desk with a blackboard. I'm pretty sure my Penny Brite came with these accessories. If so, I do have an original memory to go with the stories I've heard.

I have been falling in and out of liking myself, my life and questioning "What's next?" a lot these days. Part of me feels a little bit lost. Not really lost. Just wandering. 

I've lost my dreams. I've lost my childlike innocence I felt when these pictures were taken. I dreamed of becoming a nurse. I had forgotten.

"Just Be You ..." 

These are the words that spoke to me this morning. These words have taken me down memory lane and have rekindled a childlike memory of what it felt like to "just be me".

Even though I was a shy, reserved little child I remember feeling something inside of myself that was begging to be seen. I'm grateful for the pictures Mom took to help me remember the confidence I felt inside, despite the side of myself the world saw.

Cat Wars

Our cats have recently developed a middle-of-the-night routine which has become most annoying.

Ray (our timid cat who is very verbal when feeling harassed) has been jumping onto the night table right beside my bed and howling/crying/tattling on Jet (our cat who loves to chase and pester Ray when he is bored) in the wee hours of the morning for at least four nights in a row.

This has happened before but not with such regularity. I would shoo Ray off the night table and they would run off and complete their little game elsewhere. That stopped being fun for them, so they learned it was more entertaining to bother me so I would get out of bed, Jet would run out of the room and I would close the door behind him. Ray would settle into a restful state and we would have a peaceful rest for the remainder of the night.

Jet only fell for that ploy a few times before he realized if he hid under my bed, I couldn't shoo him out of the room. So I escorted Ray out instead.

This worked only a time or two before the new game became one or the other of the cats scratching on my bedroom door to get in or out.

We played this middle of the night game every night this week. Each night came with a new learning curve and I believe they delighted in rousing me out of my bed to tend to their arguments or need to enter or leave my bedroom. So I closed the door and locked both of them out. That didn't work either.

They learned all they needed to know to keep this game going. What they didn't realize is that I was developing a learning curve of my own.

Last night, I brought a water spray bottle to bed with me so I would be ready when the inevitable middle of the night cat spat occurred. And it did.

Mrrow!! Hiss! Mmmmroooww!!!! 

I didn't say a word. I simply reached for the water spray bottle, aimed and hit my target. Our timid Ray didn't know what hit him. He has not been on the receiving end of the disciplinary water spray tactic. We are not certain if he is a more perfect cat than Jet or if he is simply smart enough to set Jet up to be on the receiving end of our frustration when the cat tactical team requires human intervention.

I made my bed this morning and left the water spray bottle in an easy to reach location for tonight. We'll see what twists and turns occur as they learn I am armed and ready to do battle with their little schemes. Who will outwit whom?

These little cat and mouse human games keep life interesting. But enough is enough already. I'm armed and dangerous. I can almost visualize the wheels in Jet's brain turning. He is not one to give up easily. He'll find some new and more annoying ploy. He always does ...