Mimi has always looked with longing out her windows, but as she’s gotten older, the great outdoors is more of a passing entertainment and less of a temptation. Every once in awhile, however, the yearning has power.
This Side of the Window
How Cesar Got His Name
Last week, I received a long-dreaded text from my friend Deb.
“Cesar had another seizure. I took him to the vet, and it was time to let go. This has been a bad week.”
Cesar the Cat was her second pet to die in two days. She had had to say good-bye to her beloved terrier Daisy earlier that week.
Cesar was 20 years old, and had first entered her life at the age of six weeks. When I met Deb two years ago, she was afraid his time had come then, and a visit to the vet revealed he did, indeed, have kidney disease. However, cats can live a long time after that initial diagnosis, and Cesar continued to function in a healthy manner.
A few months ago she sent me this agonizing text: “Cesar just had his second seizure in two days. I’m afraid it’s time. I will miss him so much. He is the best cat EVER.”
It wasn’t time yet.
Deb taught high school English for decades, and 20 years ago, she told one of her students she’d name her kitten after him if he got an “A” on his paper. He got the grade, and Cesar got his name.
I wonder what former student Cesar is doing now. Assuming he’s alive (and we’ll assume that), he’d be in his mid- to late-30s. Does he remember his one-time teacher named her cat after him? Did it matter to him? Has he ever owned a cat, does he have children, was he successful in his life?
We influence the world around us, and never know it. Student Cesar would likely never imagine that today, a woman he’s never met is musing about his life. Because of a dead cat. To say I care what happened to him is perhaps a stretch, but in a way, I do. I want success for him.
About the time I met Deb and learned about Cesar the Cat, I was in the middle of drawing a cartoon cat for one of my posts. I named him Cesar. When I showed Deb the drawing, she said, “Yep, that looks like him.”
I had no idea. I had simply liked the name. For some reason, I’d thought CtC was a Siamese, but he was a Maine Coon. The cat I’d drawn did resemble him. Eventually I made some “limited edition” t-shirts featuring the cartoon Cesar, and a couple of months ago I gave one to Deb.
Rest in peace, Cesar Kitty and Daisy Doo. You are missed.
Image Credits: (Paws and Heart) © Bigstock.com
The Only Game in Town
Recently I read an article saying the maker of one of the most popular online Solitaire games has decided to make their game more difficult.
“Too many people are winning,” was the explanation.
Winning what? I read the article to see if this were some sort of competitive site, where people played for cash and prizes. Nope. Just a simple game of Solitaire, with players of all ages whiling away their time on a computer-generated card game.
I suspect the maker has other motives. As an occasional — and okay, sometimes frequent — player of the game, I can tell you, it’s not a competitive thing for me. I do it to relax, unwind. While I don’t win all my games, it’s no fun to lose all of them, either. I don’t want this to be a greater challenge.
I get frustrated with others making decisions for me like this. Why not give players an option? And let’s look at fashion. Why do all the pants have to be either low-rise or high-rise? Can’t there be one season where the fashion-forward, and lesser mortals, can have their choice of styles?
I recognize consumers need change, but variety is nice, too. I’ve noticed a trend toward historical novels about WWII. There are TONS of them. Movies follow a similar path of conformity…and always have. Don’t bother to tell me about non-conformist literature or film. As one of my friends used to say, the non-conformists all look alike.
Ah, I’m being cynical, I know. It all started with a silly game of solitaire…the only game in town…
Image Credits: (Solitaire Headline) ©Argus – stock.adobe.com; (Deck of Cards) ©CS Stock Images – stock.adobe.com
Perception
This was one of those weeks.
I’m working a temp job now, one I think I’d like to last awhile. It’s an interesting group I work with, primarily young…and poor. I’m doing admin work, but my desk is smack dab in the middle of a warehouse.
There are a handful of people my age, a few older, but for the most part, of the 120 or so employees there, more than 100 are probably under 35, if not under 30. We get along fine. I’m grateful the man who hired me looked at my skill set and not my wrinkles.
Anyway, the facility manager jokingly told me he thought I was about 33. I don’t kid myself; I know he was joking. But later that day while in line to pay a bill, I was asked for my birthdate, and after giving it, the young man in line behind me said, “Ma’am, I would’ve guessed you to be about 35.”
So I was feeling pretty good.
At church today, I was sitting in back with a woman, her daughter and 4-month-old grandson. I’d never met them before, and this adorable little baby was smiling and flirting with me. Of course I smiled back, and the baby’s grandma asked me, “do your grandchildren live in the area?”
I was so startled, I just said no. I don’t have any grandchildren. I don’t have any children. And yes, friends my age all pretty much have a passel of grandbabies, but no one has ever assumed I was a grandma before.
Where does the truth lie? How old do I look?
Several years ago, when I was working as a reporter, I covered the local community theater group’s most recent production, and got a wonderful photo during rehearsal of the lead actress. It turned out she’d had some Top 40 hits years ago (don’t ask me what), so I ended up doing a story just about her.
When I interviewed her, I mentioned the photo I’d taken earlier. She frowned.
I asked if she had been unhappy with it, and she said no, it was a good photo. She paused, and added, “I just didn’t think I looked that old.”
I look in the mirror and I trust I see an honest reflection of what I look like, but I know I don’t see myself as others do. That carries over to other aspects of my life as well. I don’t know how people perceive me. I have a pretty good self-image, and I believe I understand my strengths and weaknesses. But I have no idea how I’m viewed by my co-workers, for example.
I’m not talking age here. I’m talking how they see me as a person. Serious or flighty? I can pretty much guarantee they’ll say nice, but how does that translate?
Right before I sat down to write this, I had stopped in the grocery store and ran into a former boss, someone who would have heard lies and rumors about me from a few years back. I was immediately on guard.
No worries. He spun around so quickly it was like a blur. I passed him in the parking lot a few minutes later, and he ignored me.
How does he view me, in light of the falsehoods I know he’s heard?
It isn’t something I worry about or feel any great concern over. I have people who know me and love me, and what anyone thinks of me is their business. How they see me is colored by how they see themselves.
I just wonder about it sometimes.
What is important to me is honesty with myself, accepting myself, forgiving myself, improving myself. I want to be better when I turn 60 than I am today.
That’s not too far away…better get on it.
Image credits: © maiko62 – stock.adobe.com
A Handful of Tips and Tricks
The best flavoring a hostess can add to her entrees?
Hungry guests.
Tricks of the trade can give anyone an edge. Here are a few I’ve learned. For some of you, at least some of this information is old hat, but hopefully I can pass along some useful trivia to help make your life a little brighter.
Use triangles in photo composition.
They don’t have to be perfectly symmetrical, of course, but three points in a photo that create a triangle make for a pleasing image.
Use parsley to get rid of garlic breath.
Ever wonder what the sprig of parsley is doing on your plate? It’s not just decorative. It’s nature’s breath mint (well, a couple of mint leaves will help too).
Call TV news stations after lunch but before your afternoon siesta.
Want your local news to cover your event? Generally speaking — and on any given day, this can change — your local television news staff has the most time between 12:30 and 2:30. The morning news program is over, and they still have plenty of time to pull together the evening news. So they have time to listen to your pitch.
Rub a walnut on scratched wood furniture.
It’s basically the oil in the walnut that does it, of course, but you feel so ingenious doing this.
Baking soda does wonderful things.
Scour out your kitchen sink. Mix it with hydrogen peroxide and gob it on insect bites. Sprinkle it in your shoes. The list goes on and on…
And I’ll say it again, hungry guests are happy eaters.
Any helpful tips you’d like to add?
Image Credits: Triangles, Walnuts and Tip icon courtesy of Pixabay; Background on header © Dreamstime; Reporter © Bigstock.
My World With Words 
You must be logged in to post a comment.