The Day the Computer Died

I was frittering my morning away watching YouTube videos when suddenly the computer died. It just quit. No warning. No fanfare. No bright red boxes indicating a virus had taken control. It just died.

I unplugged the computer cord from the computer. I googled "My computer died" on my phone. I removed the battery. Twice. I unplugged the cord from the computer and walked away.

Hmmm. I wordlessly wondered, "I wonder if that is the end of my computer as I know it?" Then I picked up a book and carried on.

Whimsically, I thought I would call my computer guy on Monday. There was a fair chance files could be recovered. But what if they couldn't? Life would go on. That is that. And I would feel ever so much lighter without carrying around the excess I have amassed on this little computer of mine.

Hours passed. Life moved on. I thought of the computer again and decided to unplug the computer from the wall while I waited for the Computer Doctor's diagnosis.

Then I saw it. The cord was not completely plugged into the wall. In all my attempts to unplug and plug in the computer, I never once checked the outlet on the wall. I was unplugging it from the computer.

I pushed the plug in firmly to the wall and lights started flashing. I turned on the computer and in an instant everything came back to life.

Life is just that simple some times. We complicate matters by overthinking and underacting. Sometimes it is as simple as checking your power source.

It is good to "unplug" and disconnect. It is hard to do this voluntarily but I must admit I was grateful for the hours of computer silence I enjoyed while my computer was out of service.

The day the computer died was destined to be a reflective and quiet one. Then I plugged it in again and all was lost. Even though I knew better. Sigh ...

No lesson to wind up this post. I knew better but I didn't do better. There is always tomorrow.

Laughter is the Best Medicine

I take life seriously. I really do. Life is filled with challenges, seriousness and while it often feels like there is every reason to cry, complain and surrender, I find laughter is the salve that soothes my weary soul.

I like to laugh. I like to surround myself with people who bring out the lightness in life. As I write these words, I hear the laughter. I think of people whose resting face is joyful, with a twinkle in their eye.

People who can download the stressors within their world in a light hearted fashion are people I look up to, want to be around and want to emulate.

When I think of times when my world felt the most bleak, I remember the laughter that broke through the darkness and reminded me "this too shall pass".

My memories ring with laughter as I think of the people, relationships and conversations I have had. The memory that stands out above the rest is the laughter.

In my humble opinion, laughter is the best medicine. Add a good night's sleep and good nutrition to that equation and that is the recipe for a life well lived.

Never Let Me Forget

I wake up every morning to my petty little worries. I feel as though I am in a constant state of counting down to something. My to-do-lists revolve around what I want to get done before one of those "count down events" occurs.

There are some challenges worked into the days but none of them are life threatening or loom above my head in a life-altering kind of way. What I confront as I walk through my days are merely hurdles. Something I can learn to jump over, walk over or even walk around. 

There is very little within this tiny little world of mine that is sitting in front of me daring me to take it on. I have my health. My family is hale and hearty. I have a job. I have a home. It comes with furry felines who shed a lot. 

I tend to complain about the endless cat hair and things-to-be-done. I am fortunate to have a life that comes with responsibilities and the need to be accountable. 

For every item on my eternal to-do-list or my daily countdowns to one date or another, I am blessed with a life that is filled with responsibilities, events and a community which pulls me out of the shell I would retreat into if I could.

Never let me forget to be grateful. That is my forever wish.

September 11th

Just a moment of silence to appreciate waking up to a day where I feel safe, secure, warm and sheltered from the outside elements of the world.

Just a moment to take note of what is truly important. It isn't the "stuff". It is the peace of mind I have as I map out another relatively predictable day.

Just a moment to reflect on the relationships I have with family, friends, community and the world outside these doors. I am treated with kindness and do my best to pay it forward.

Just a minute to gaze at the walls that surround me and the roof that shelters me. I am home. I am safe. I am content.

Just a minute to count my blessings. They are many. Few, if any, are material belongings. The contentment I feel within life as I know it is priceless.

Just a moment to remember how fortunate I am to wake up each morning. Period. To wake up with the ability to breath easily, place my feet on the floor, live independently and the gift of knowing there is an excess of what I have to share with those I meet along the way.

A moment of silence to honor this moment. To remember how fortunate I am when the day goes relatively according to plan. To go to bed at night with the peace of mind that those who touch my world have also made it through another day and are preparing to do it all again tomorrow.

A day to appreciate the ability to dream of "tomorrow" is a gift bigger than life itself.

I remember the way I felt the day the world as we know it changed forever. September 11, 2001 was a day etched in my mind. I vowed to never take our peaceful existence for granted as I walked through a day where the sky was silent.

Cat Meditation

Nothing empties the mind like watching a fire, gazing off into the ocean or watching kittens at play.

I could (and did) watch these kittens for hours on end.

You're welcome.

A Little Slice of Heaven

When I no longer walk this earth in human form, I want to be reborn as a kitten who lives on my son's farm. It is honestly like a little piece of heaven right here on earth.

The barn, wood pile and slough to the west

The shop, which houses the insulated dog houses takes on the appearance of a manger in the dead of winter

Check out the "cat condo" above the dog house door on the white dog house. It presently houses a new mother's family of kittens

The cat and rabbit house - shingled, sided and fully insulated with a wood floor and a cat door to use as needed

Cat walk up to the cat's feeding area to the left; rabbit house to the right

The "feeding area", with a cat walk up to the loft above

The loft, with a window with a warm northern view

And there is a people house too!!

With a deck which overlooks this panoramic view.

It is a little slice of heaven out there. I'm so grateful for the opportunity to step in and enjoy the view!

The Wonder of Motherhood

I do believe watching mothers in their natural habitat is one of the wonders of living on a farm. Mother cats, to be more specific.

The cats here on the farm are all descendants of the original Mother Cat. I am not sure of their exact lineage but I believe I am correct to assume all the mother cats are sisters, cousins or aunts or nieces to one another. In other words, they have all known each other since birth.

This creates a perfect co-parenting environment. The momma cats will step in to relieve one another. The kittens and teens have a strong bond with each other and every mother figure in their lives. Other than the odd hiss when someone oversteps a boundary, these cats lead an incredibly harmonious existence.

Then there is the Language of Mothering. One certain meow meant, "I have a mouse here. Come and get it!" Another specific meow was a momma cat calling out to her newly independent kittens who were out discovering the farm. There is the purr of contentment of a brand new mother as she nurses her newborns. The subtleties of the mews, meows, purrs, trill of a meow and the throaty mrrowl each have their own meaning.

Mother cats seem to have an ease about letting go when it is time for their kittens to set out and discover the world.

Yesterday morning when I went to feed the cats, the three youngest kittens were missing. I called out, I shook the cat food dish and when nothing drew them out I peered up into the loft. Not a kitten in sight.

Their mother didn't seem bothered by their absence and ate her breakfast without a care in the world. After everyone ate and lavished on any cat love that was being doled out, I asked the momma where her babies were. Eventually she seemed to understand my query and headed off towards the barn. I could hear the change in her meow. She was calling out to her children. No answer. She got closer to the barn and didn't enter. She headed towards the wood pile alongside the barn and continued to call. In no time, one, two, three kittens bounded into view and acknowledge their mom. She looked up at me as if to say, "Don't you worry ... I've got this".

I was the human being, supposedly with common sense and reasoning power. Yet I was the worrier. Last week, these new kittens were just starting to venture out of the loft. This weekend, I was greeted by three frisky kittens who were exploring their new surroundings outside the cat house. Add a day, and they were off to the wood pile. 

In no time at all, they will be teens and pushing even more limits. Discovering more. Going further. Testing their "wings" so to speak. And the mother cats are good with this. It is the natural order of things.

If only we could live in harmony the way these animals do here on the farm.

The dogs stand back and respect the smallest of the independent kittens when the kitten hisses and teaches the dog where his boundaries are. The mothers all look out for each other's kittens. The kittens all play, wrestle, sleep and share their mothers with each other. The mothers simply love their children, love their children's children, love their sibling's children and so on and so forth. And they are raising generations of kittens who are doing exactly what their mother taught them.

The dogs quietly watch over their world, protect their boundaries, respect their feline companions and life is good. 

If only life was so simple off the farm. It could be. If only we could simply be kind to one another, respect each other's boundaries and look at life one moment at a time.