Both Mimi and Walter have started scratching my new sofa, which I’ve actively discouraged. Problem is, I don’t know if they think I’m trying to stop all scratching (which of course I’m not) or just marking up the sofa. So I pulled out an ottoman I had stashed in a closet. This was a gift from a friend, unfortunately, the cats tore it up pretty thoroughly. I was between scratching posts at the time, so I made a cover that they could sharpen their little claws on as much as they wanted. Now it’s serving that same purpose in the hope that they leave my new sofa alone. So far, it seems to be working.
Today, as you probably know, is the twenty-five year anniversary of 9/11. Like most of you, I remember exactly where I was when I first learned about what was happening. Sitting on my bed with the yellow floral comforter, watching the Today show. The news before the planes struck was pretty dull and I almost turned the TV off, when I heard Katie Couric give the first indication something bad had happened.
Minutes later, when the second plane struck, I picked up the phone and called my brother, who, with his family, lives in Manhattan and had a view of the twin towers out of the bedroom windows. I asked him if he was watching the news, and he said no. I told him to look out the window and turn on the news. At that point I heard my sister-in-law cry out–she saw what was happening. Knowing they were okay, I hung up and continued watching the news. I had an appointment that day to get my nails done, but I canceled it.
In the aftermath, weeks after the planes struck, I remember my sister-in-law saying it smelled like death outside. The smell just clung to you.
The nation pulled together after that. Yes, there was controversy, and it continues. But we had been attacked. Today, we are severely divided, but we come together to remember a day we can’t forget, a day that we pray will never be repeated. We remember the brave men and women of Flight 93 who fought back. We remember those who caught an earlier flight to get home to their loved ones,, and in doing so, lost their lives. We remember…we remember.
I found out something disappointing today. Some yarn that I’d ordered has been discontinued, and my order was canceled. Now, they gave me a full refund, of course, and a 10 percent discount on my next order. But I need the yarn I originally ordered to finish a project that’s sitting in a bag in my spare room.
Why is it that life’s little disappointments can have such a large impact on us? I won’t go so far as to say I’m really upset over this news–I’ve come up with a Plan B–but it’s staying with me. And I don’t know why.
I’ve tried to think of bigger disappointments that may have occurred lately that I’ve suppressed feelings about, but really don’t have any. It’s not that my life has been mundane, because things keep happening, but nothing that gives me a feeling of being let down.
Okay, there is one thing that’s been difficult for me. I can’t think of anything to blog about. I assume I haven’t been the only one to get the flashback notices, telling me about blog posts I made on this same date in years past. Ten years ago I was a prolific blogger, posting items three to four times a week. Now it seems that well is dry.
Nothing to do with this blog post–except the name–but I thought it was a cool picture.
It’s been fun looking back, and I keep thinking I’ll find inspiration in former posts. But so far, nothing. And that is disappointing.
When I come up with an idea, I do a search to see if I wrote about it before. Inevitably, I did. I do post things about my cats and that’s fun, but I’d like to write about more substantial topics, too.
So I’m sending out this request. If you have a distinct way of coming up with blog post ideas, let me know. And yes, I do look at the prompts, but they don’t usually do it for me.
I pulled the comforter off of my bed to wash it, only to discover that both cats love sleeping on it. Right now it’s all folded up at the foot of the bed, waiting to go to the laundromat. Here’s Mimi taking a nap on it. Hopefully they aren’t too disappointed when it disappears to be washed, then shows up again on the full length of the bed. BTW, this is the comforter I sleep with, not the decorative one.
Need I say more? Okay, it’s purpose is to dispel all myths surrounding black cats, who are just as fun, mischievous, devoted, and loving as any other kind of cat. That makes them good luck!
My World With Words 
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