Pieces of the Whole
She’s had a hard day of playing with toys and playing with Walter. Now it’s time for the next leg of her daily sleep–which I hear totals about twenty hours for cats. What I would give for a little more sleep myself.
Image Credits: Cesar Cat © Belinda O; Paws in Heart © Bigstock Photos; Sleeping cat illustration © Natthapat–stock.adobe,com
Some time back I bought a book called “At Work At Home” about building the perfect office space. It had a multitude of ideas, none of them practical for me–my budget didn’t stretch that far. Since that time I’ve perused many books on the same topic, and keep coming back to a favorite kind of space. It’s a cubby with a sofa, surrounded by bookshelves on top and each side, bursting with books. Add a spacious desk nearby and I know I could be inspired by something like that.
Instead what I have is much simpler. A small corner desk in my spare bedroom, a room which doubles as a storage space, and a few sparse bookshelves in my living room. I don’t have room for anything more. Still, somehow, I manage to write on a regular basis. I read every work day at lunch in my car, although I’ve learned not to buy books, in part because I don’t have room for them and in part because on hot summer days the binding comes apart. So I Kindle it.
Let’s face it, I’ll likely never have a dream reading and writing space. So I work on ways to make mine better. A nicer lamp, for instance, instead of the thirty-year-old thing I’ve got. I can’t even use the lampshade because it’s too dark, so my lamp is this unattractive base with a light bulb on top. Okay, let’s move on from there. I could be better organized. I have papers overflowing the desk file holders I have. I’d like the walls to be less sparse. Perhaps I could hang up something besides my Peanuts “Happiness Is…” calendar?
If I kept looking for the ideal space, I’d never find it. But dreams are good. They fuel the imagination and give us hope. I guess that’s why I still haven’t gotten rid of my copy of “At Work At Home.”
Image Credit: Office Space © thejokercze–stock.adobe.com Glasses on book © Sippung–stock.adobe.com
Well, I’m a little late with my Christmas greetings, but I hope your day was a good one.
Once again I spent my Christmas with just my kitties, but this year I didn’t feel so alone. In the past I’ve shared more in depth feelings about the day, but frankly, I’m feeling pretty neutral about it. Don’t get me wrong, I celebrate the birth of our Savior, but as far as being alone–no biggie.
I finally finished all the Christmas scarves for my brother and his family and plan to mail them in the next day or two. The box I needed turned out to be bigger than I expected, so I’m anticipating the postage could get pretty high. Given the bad luck I’ve had with the USPS lately (the yarn I ordered for said scarves was lost twice, but was eventually found for one package), I hesitate to ship ground. But my finances may force me to do so.
Anyway, this is my ten-year anniversary with Word Press, and I value the friendships I’ve developed over that time. Thank you all for your support.
Image Credit Header © Robert Kneschke–stock.adobe.com; Ten Years © Zoran Milic–stock.adobe.com
I’m so excited. The USPS found my lost package and delivered it today. After waiting ten days (that’s ten days since I knew it was lost), I did not expect this. In fact, once I was directed to put in a missing package search request, I didn’t expect it. But here it is.
I just had to let all of you know about this. Only fair since I wrote a less than flattering piece about the USPS. Okay, I didn’t say anything nasty, but telling the truth was negative enough.
I do have to add I have another package that now appears to be lost as well. However, that happened with the previous two (the first was found the same day I put my missing package search request in), so I’m semi-hopeful this one will eventually make it to my mailbox.
So now I can finish my gifts for my brother and his family. No, they still won’t get there in time, but I’m okay with that right now.
Image Credits: Dancing Cats (both images) © id512–stock.adobe.com
For our Christmas luncheon, everyone in my writing group traditionally writes a one-page story or poem. We take turns reading each other’s pieces out loud, then guess who wrote what. Apparently I have an identifiable style, because everyone guessed mine correctly! Anyway, here’s that story:
Sloopy Squirrel lay curled up in despair. His mama had trusted him with the nuts, telling him they were for the family dinner on Christmas Eve. These are very special nuts, she’d told him, the kind Sloopy and his brother wouldn’t get to eat often, but the humans in the backyard had carelessly tossed them away. They looked so good.
Yes, he’d eaten them. Every last one. It didn’t seem like much until he’d finished most of them, then his tummy began to hurt. Shortly after that, his heart began to hurt. He’d destroyed the family dinner! He’d taken the gift of these nuts and selfishly eaten all of it. Sloopy was a young squirrel, but he knew right from wrong. Sort of.
So Sloopy decided to look for some more nuts on his own. He peeked out of the tree. Up ahead a little girl hopped on some squares in the sidewalk. She’d been nice to Sloopy before, even wanted to pet him, but that scared him, and he ran away. This time he boldly went before her, stood on his hindquarters, and begged. Did she know about begging?
“Hello, little squirrel,” she said, bending down before him. In her hand she held, hmmm, not nuts, but it looked delicious. “Would you like a Snickers bar?”
Sloopy crept up to her slowly. A Snickers bar? It looked like it had nuts in it. She proffered the candy, then dropped a piece of the bar in front of Sloopy. He sniffed it, looked at her, and chirped in delight.
“Take it,” she said. “I have more.” She broke it in two. Sloopy grabbed both pieces and stuffed them in his cheeks. He scuffled away, back to the shelter of the tree.
Mama and his brother stood there, waiting for him. “You ate the nuts, you naughty squirrel!” Mama cried out.
“I hate you!” His brother added.
Sloopy spit out the candy and looked expectantly at them both. “Merry Christmas.”
So Sloopy saved the dinner treat he’d ruined, and never felt tempted to eat the Snickers bar before Christmas Eve.
Image Credit: Squirrel (we’ll call him Sloopy) © FMSTUDIO–stock.adobe.com; Merry Christmas, Everyone! © elenarostunova–stock.adobe.com Christmas in the Woods © Rawpixel.com
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