My World With Words

Last night multiple tornadoes ripped through the neighborhoods around me. Seeing the pictures, I recognized many of the sites and landmarks, and was shaken, to say the least, to realize how close they came to me. Especially since I slept through the whole thing.

I didn’t think I was that heavy of a sleeper, and it’s possible a tornado warning that came through my phone woke me. I’m not sure, because I don’t know what time I woke up, but that warning came around 1:45 a.m.

Several trees in my apartment complex were downed or stripped of many of their branches. In the midst of this serious situation I had to laugh at the number of squirrels gathering acorns, which no doubt had been shaken loose. There are always squirrels around, but they all seemed to show up this morning.

We’ve been pretty insulated from the bad weather so far, with much of it happening west and north of us. My only comfort with missing the tornado warning was that had it hit my apartment and killed me, I likely never would have known it was coming. There are very few places for me to take shelter and tornadoes are a huge fear of mine.

But I’m okay, and lucky enough to have power. I got an email from my electric company, which said about half its customers had lost power and they may not have it back for a week. It’s getting hot these days, and I don’t know how well my cats and I would tolerate such a situation. I supposed we’d do what we have to do.

I’m also lucky to have enough food–and cat food–to get me through the next few days, as authorities are asking everyone to stay at home unless it’s absolutely necessary to be on the road. I don’t even know if local stores are open.

Situations like this make you think, although I’m not thinking too much about it because it’s so frightening. Eventually it will hit me. Severe weather can hit anybody. My neck of the woods hasn’t gotten too many tornadoes in the past, and there’s even a Native American legend about why. Not sure what exactly that legend is, but basically it says the gods will protect us.

Take care, and take the risk of severe weather seriously. Even if you’ve been told the gods will protect you.

Image Credit: Header © J.V.G. Ransika–stock.adobe.com

A few weeks ago, I gave you a peek at what my cats have done to one of my wicker chairs (and what they’re now well on their way to doing to the other one). Here’s a look at what Mimi has done to my desk chair. Next time I move, it’s going to the garbage–but in the meantime I’ll keep using it.

Image Credits: Cesar Cat  © Belinda O; Paws in Heart  © Bigstock Photos; Cat on Throne  © Sunshower Shots–stock.adobe.com

They’re tearing down the building I used to work in, right across the street from where I work now (for the same company). Okay, they’re actually preparing to tear it down, but they’ve come a long way. It seems most of the computer equipment, printers, and the like have already been moved and based on the empty parking lot, no one is left working in that building.

But I worry about the squirrels. They built quite a community in the space between the ceiling and the roof–some might call it an attic, but it’s really too small for that. Anyway, the squirrels had nests there, and we’d hear them scampering around quite frequently. Sometimes one would get caught in a trap, and one time the victim of one of these traps put up quite a fuss, banging the cage and crying out for help. There was a catch and release policy for those squirrels, so no doubt they just came back.

So what happens when the building gets torn down? Do the squirrels perish? The thought bothers me, but no one has an answer and management doesn’t seem to care.

Today some of us had quite a discussion about it, and one thing became clear: I work with a group of people who care about animals. Not my whole department, mind you, but the few gathered around me definitely have a heart for our furry friends. We talked about how our pets had chosen us–in my case, Walter and Mimi showed up at my door, although my neighbors took them in first. When January came around and those girls cast these two helpless kittens out in the sleet and ice, I relented from my firm stance against adopting any animals (I was out of work and owed the Cat Clinic quite a bit of money) and took them in. We were immediately a family.

Rita and Sherry had similar stories, and both had lived on farms where they never turned an animal away. Cats and dogs came and went. Sherry relayed how one Pomeranian had become best friends with a calf, and the two would snuggle up together. Sherry’s dad taught that little foo-foo dog to help with the cattle, and she’d run out with her calf buddy and hang out in the pasture with all the cows.

We never did reach a satisfactory conclusion on how to address the squirrel situation. I just hope the company makes a compassionate effort to clear out as many as possible before demolishing the building. Maybe it’s because my birthday is also Squirrel Appreciation Day, but I really don’t want them to meet a disastrous fate.

Image Credits: Header (cartoon squirrel)  © JJAVA–stock.adobe.com; Pomeranian  © Olesia Bilkei

My dad and I talk about once a week, more if the weather’s been bad and he wants to know if I’m okay. The topic of age comes up frequently. One of his favorite anecdotes is about my grandfather, who, when facing his limits at the age of 87, told my dad, “I’m not 77 anymore!”

It’s all relative, isn’t it? I don’t really feel older at my age, although sometimes when I hear my colleagues talk about their weekend plans I’m aware that I’ve settled into a more sedentary life. And of course I’m discussing osteoporosis with my doctor during every checkup, something those with young kids still at home don’t even think about.

Looking back, I can see my dad has led an active lifestyle since he was a toddler. My mom has not. When they were my age, my dad was hiking, golfing, and generally having a social life. My mom was much more of a home body, kind of like me. These days I’d much rather stay at home and knit than hike, or in the alternative, play Scrabble with friends.

My dad doesn’t take long walks anymore, but he golfs regularly, bowls, and works out. I’ve mentioned this before. He’s almost 88 and plans to keep on doing these things as long as he can. One of his golf partners is 93, and he’s certain he can make it that long. So am I.

I see my dad in my brother. Thom has friends throughout New York City, where he lives, and across the country. He and my sister-in-law are always getting out and doing something, even if it’s a quieter venture like going to a museum.

I like walking, although there are very few places to do it in my neighborhood. I’ve resolved to get out more and hike around some of the nature reserves in the area. If I can’t do that, I’m getting back on the treadmill. I used to do that on a regular basis and loved it. It’s something I should be able to get into again.

I’ve posted resolutions on this blog before, and it’s helped keep me honest, even though I rarely give updates. Okay, the dieting one hasn’t come to fruition yet. In fact, I gained some weight, which I’ve since lost. I plan to keep on losing until I’m at a place where I feel comfortable. I’ve come to realize I’m never again going to have the body I had at 30, but that doesn’t mean I can’t get in better shape now.

So I’m a little older and have to adapt. I’m still young by many standards and certainly still capable of doing more than I’m doing. So onward!

Image Credits: Check Mark © lankogal; Knitting © Hanna; Golf Ball © BUddhika; All, stock.adobe.com

Mimi’s been a bit of a chunk for some time now. I’ve tried cutting back on her food, but she still doesn’t lose any weight. And yes, I know, cats need to lose weight slowly. I say, more to love, more to snuggle with. She hasn’t gained any weight in a long time, at least.

She’s my sweet baby and I love every ounce of her. But we’ll still try the diet thing.

You might notice the wicker chair right behind her that she and Walter have successfully scratched down to the post. They’ve moved on to the other wicker chair now. They have a scratching post, but I guess there’s nothing like a wicker chair.

Image Credits: Fat Mimi © Belinda O; Fat Cat © Good Studio–stock.adobe.com Cesar Cat © Belinda O; Paws in Heart © Bigstock Photo