Life, Living and Love

Today is Ken's birthday and what a day it has been!

While he's been hard at work in the digital salt mines, I've been downstairs working on my first ever gluten-free brownie ice cream cake. We've seen clouds, rain and hail, and as if on cue, the sun's out just in time for dinner on the porch.

There have been phone calls, emails and a zillion facebook posts. The day has been filled with sweetness. I've learned more from this amazing man about life, living, love, honesty, integrity and courage than from any human on the planet.

 Happy Birthday sweetie. May there be many, many, many more! 

You've hardly changed a bit.

Relevant

I mean to post more regularly, really I do...

Recently I had the closure I didn't know I needed in the form of a reception honoring this year's Ivory Tower retirees. It was lovely. There was nice wine, tasty snacks and lots of good people. I put on my big girl pants, went all by myself, and even managed to hold it together (although not without some significant hand-holding by my sweet friend C).

Now that it's over I can honestly say I'm really glad I went BUT it wasn't without its weirdness.  In fact it was just a little too much like attending your own funeral. I'm glad I was there to hear all the sweet things folks said about my teaching, how they'll miss me, and how I influenced them way, way, way back in the day when they were students. I didn't know I needed that so thank you.

There were questions I expected..."So, are you at the shop like, all the time now?" and "OMG, when did you stop coloring your hair?".  And some I didn't..."So how DO you fill your days?".

The folks who answer the question "How are you?" by reciting their resumes, still do and they still gossip about their colleagues who are standing only a few feet away. Several people confided that they wished they could leave too and that they thought I had decided exit just in knick of time. I didn't inquire why. I listened to one resume-reciter wax on and on about how busy she was this summer, how she was working the entire time and how difficult it is to "remain relevant" as a full professor. I'm not sure what that means exactly, but it certainly has me thinking after the fact.

The Rites of Spring

Taking winter coats to the cleaners

Hanging sheets on the line to dry

Chasing carpenter ants

 

Washing wicker, painting metal porch furniture

Getting ready for the first FLEA

Excavating the garage

 

Watching every day for the first asparagus

Breakfast, lunch and dinner on the porch

Sleeping with the windows open 

Rhubarb, Lily of the Valley, Bleeding Heart

Daffodil, Hyacinth, Squill

Forget-Me-Nots

 

Planting peas and lettuce

Washing windows

Sighing...a lot

It's only now that I realize this past winter was a little hard on me. I didn't mind the cold, the heavy gray skies and that it snowed almost every day for six months. No, what got to me this winter was the fact that I was rarely outside. I realize now that the daily walk from my East Jesus parking spot to my office every day was actually good for something. It got me outside and all winter long. Okay, duly noted. Next year I'll do winter a little differently.

I've removed myself from almost all of the official college email lists and I'm pretty sure I don't see the ivory tower in my rear view mirror any more. I've got only a vague notion of where we are in the academic calendar these days. I know that Slope Day was yesterday because I saw it mentioned on Facebook and that Ithaca College graduation takes place during the first FOUND FLEA. But that's it. Now if I could just get myself moved out of my office...the thought of leaving a big FREE sign on the door and telling folks to take what they want is seriously tempting.

Otis

Here we go again...80 degrees yesterday, two inches of snow this afternoon. In a day or two it'll be back in the 60s again. Spring is here...she's just taking her time getting established.


We met a little four week old buff tabby over the weekend named Otis. We were hoping he might be our Peter.

He is such a sweet little being with lots and lots of love and one of the best kitten bellies I've snuggled in a LONG time.

He was the only baby in a large litter of kittens to survive. The owner brought his mom in for spaying and soon after she began to give birth.


She's a beautiful buff tabby herself, with piercing blue eyes. A barn cat with skills so accomplished, her owners want her back as soon as possible.

Lillie has been much more clingy than usual and has been losing weight. According to our wonderful home vet, Dr. Jeanne, she is fine from the outside. We're holding our breath 'til test results return at the end of the week.

 Lillie misses Peter.

I ran into a former colleague last week and the first thing he said was how happy I looked. In fact he must've said it five or six times. So many folks have told me this lately that I wonder what I must've looked like in the months/years leading up to my exit from the ivory tower. I can only imagine. Since leaving I have experienced a kind of relief and gratitude like never before. One of these days I'll be able to write about it in more detail. For now I will just sit with it.

Waiting for Peter

My mood is as gloomy as a snow sky in late March and I so wish I could just shake it off but I doubt that's possible. I desperately need Spring to get here. I need sun and warmth on my face. I need the optimism that comes with the turning of this particular season. I need to smell things greening and get wet dirt underneath my fingernails. I need my Peter back.

Our kitties Peter and Lillie were fostered in a farm about half a mile down the road from where we now live. I remember noticing our house back then, thinking it was the sweetest, most idyllic farmhouse I'd ever seen. I wondered what it would be like to live there and now I do.

The kittens were eight weeks old when I brought them home. Barely weened, full of curiosity and bad manners, they immediately took over the house and declared Franklin to be their adoptive mom even though he was male.

Franklin took on the role with gusto, letting them nurse on his fur and sleep on his belly. He snuggled them as long as they liked and taught them to be sweet. Eventually they learned better table manners.



Like so many kitties, Peter masked any hint of pain or illness. We had no idea he was dying, only that he didn't seem his usual self and that one day he just didn't seem interested in eating. 

He was such a gentle, kind and considerate soul. I miss our snuggily bedtime routine with his affectionate head butts that were so enthusiastic they sometimes knocked my glasses off. How he would lay on Ken's pillow and look up at him as though he had no intention of leaving. I miss his soft pink nose and his one rogue black whisker. He purred 'til he took his last breath.

Spring is kitten season. Perhaps Pee will have decided it's time to return to us by then.

We are waiting for you Pee.

Pretty Please

Welcome Spring. We're ready for you. In case you didn't notice, we're getting tired of this stuff.

We'd like a little more sun

and a whole lot more green.

 Oh and, while you're at it, would you mind closing the door? You're letting in more of that cold, frigid air. 

There that's better, thank you. 

Now would you please make it stop snowing? Pretty please?

In the air

Spring is on the way. I can smell it. As a Florida gal, I never saw spring flowers growing out of the ground. Nope, never. Spring wasn't something you saw in Florida, it was something you smelled.
When I stepped outside this morning I got a BIG whiff of it for the first time. That delicious smell of decay and thawing ice and dirt. That raw, almost moldy smell. The smell of spring. I also heard my first redwing blackbird and I saw an enormous "V" of geese heading in our direction. Spring is coming and it'll be here soon. Please hurry just a little bit.

There's been much sadness in our little corner of the world this week. The husband of an auction friend committed suicide on Saturday. Like most deaths by suicide, no one saw it coming. Not even his wife. I wish it didn't take tragedy to put things back in perspective.

On Sunday afternoon we spent time pouring through the CD collection of our dear friend Dave who died suddenly last July. Dave was that music fan who sat in the front row at every concert. He cheered loudly and sang even louder, and at intermission he'd buy one of every CD the band had for sale.

 We miss you every day, Dave.