Wanted: One Mouser Cat

Must be willling to work nights.  During day must assume another identity so as not to traumatize resident dog.  Mouser Cat must possess keen mousing skills and be able to dispose of all remains before sunrise.  Salary commensurate with experience and results.  Please come for interview in a disguise.

"Next to the Last of the Mohicans"

I like this guy.  He exhibits pluck and exudes savoir faire, no?  Furthermore, I can relate to him.  That guy in history who "also ran".  The common foot soldier in the historical battle that turns the tide of history.  The inconspicuous mother of a statesman that sways the masses.  The best friend of James Dean or the next door neighbor of Albert Schweitzer.  A small peg in the wheel that moves the history of mankind forward whose name will only be known to a small handful.  My fifty ninth year seems to be rolling out as highly introspective.  I want to hit 60 with a splash.  Perhaps it's the significance of yet another decade or the realization that the NEXT decade birthday I encounter may be full of drool and artificial parts.  So, in preparation for my upcoming birthday in the spring I've been striving to pack some things into this year that I may not have normally considered significant.  I'm reading 60 books, giving away 60 things, walking 60 miles, going vegetarian for 60 days, doing 60 blog posts--you get the picture.  My goal is to cap off the year with 60 miles on the Appalachian Trail if anyone would like to join me.  I realize that by going public I lay myself out for inspection.  That's OK.  Maybe someone will "go thou and do likewise."  Perhaps I'll write a book about it.  Not sure the world is on the edge of it's global seat waiting for my post-menopausal ruminations, but then again, I feel somewhat compelled to turn to the faceless throng and at least give a wave and a goofy grin...

A Satur Day

"Oh my heck! When I want to kiss her I will!"  (a note I found in a pile today which I took from a kid last week )

Putting my finger on the pulse of just one day in my mortality...Today I
--read 14 pages from the Book of Mormon
--finished knitting the toe on grandson Pete's Christmas stocking
--fetched my Bountiful Basket
--shopped for groceries
--fed the "boys" their daily hay
--kavetsched with "Off-the-grid Bill" in the alpaca field about latter-day prophecies (watch out for the year without rain that's coming up!), hay, provident living and government grants
--washed dishes
--put away the ice cream freezer and raclette grill after locating ALL the multiple parts
--cleaned out under the sink
--herded the "girls" off the road not one, not two, not three or ever four but FIVE times!!!!!  They have become free-ranging "lawn ornaments" due to the lack of water and subsequent lack of food in their pasture
--put up an alpaca barracade of sorts using a wooden pallet, a septic tank cover, and a garden hose
--washed 5 front windows inside and out
--cut down perrenials in front
--washed bird poop off of the porch
--cleaned the remains of a dead mouse out of a drawer
--soaked a pot in which I burned apples I was cooking last week.  I'm afraid it's a goner.
--made a crockpot of white bean and hamhock soup
--did wash
--vaccumed

--watched two episodes on Amazon Prime Instant View of Friday Night Lights to which I am strangely attached (Texas high school football??????  Really, Mad...)

--called an aunt and a cousin

--fed my sourdough start
--washed off some shelves
--cleaned out my lazy Susan in the kitchen
--soaked up some gorgeous September sun with Mugsy
And now I'm taking a bowl of strawberries up to my bed where my day will end knitting and watching TV.

Eschatology and Elixirs

Eschatology i/ˌɛskəˈtɒlədʒi/ (from the Greek ἔσχατος/ἐσχάτη/ἔσχατον, eschatos/eschatē/eschaton meaning "last" and -logy meaning "the study of", first used in English around 1550)[1] is a part of theology, philosophy, and futurology concerned with what are believed to be the final events of history, the ultimate destiny of humanity—commonly referred to as the "end of the world" or "end time".

The Oxford English Dictionary defines eschatology as "The department of theological science concerned with ‘the four last things: death, judgement, heaven, and hell’."[2]

In the context of mysticism, the phrase refers metaphorically to the end of ordinary reality and reunion with the Divine..

I've never actually known what eschatology definitively meant.  Paco has responded "Eschatology" on many many occasions when I've  asked him what he will be speaking about in church.  I always assumed (using my best context clue skills) that he meant "mysteries."  So when I encountered a deep deep mystery, I immediately responded mentally with, "Ahhhhhhhh....eschatology..."   Two weeks ago I took a crockpot of pulled pork to a family picnic in Utah.  I left the leftovers with my kids and brought the pot home dirty because it looked like it might need some elbow grease to get it clean  The fact that that crockpot ended up in the back of my car trunk for 4 or 5 days and then was left on the garage floor for ahem...another 9 days...is a topic for discussion at another time when I open myself up for "deep dark faults that we hide."  Get on to the mystery, Mad!  You're losing them!  YESTERDAY you can imagine my utter shock and incredulity when I found that crockpot--glass lid lying neatly beside it--resting in our side field out by the bonfire pit!!!!!!  Closer inspection revealed that the pot was in perfect condition and had been meticulously licked clean both inside and out!!!  And that's my story!  I immediately suspected Snoopy, the neighbor's beagle.  But HOW????????  He would have had to have drug it over a cement garage floor, through the garden boots, over the door frame, down a step and about 50 feet over rocks!!!!    Paco suspects it to be the work of a raccoon, whom he insists are very very clever.  It's the whole opposable thumb thing that has me stumped.  I'm thinking an opposable thumb would be critical to the operation.  What do you think?????  Sounds like the "end of ordinary reality" to me...

 And THIS is my elixir!!!  No, I didn't melt chocolate chips!  I cleaned out my fridge and fired up the Champion juicer.  To say that this juice is fit for the Gods is a gross gross understatement.  It defies description.  Delectable.  Magnificent.  The vegetables I remember juicing were tomatoes, spinach, zucchini, and kale (about the only thing my garden yielded this year), but I can neither confirm nor deny that there may be other ingredients.  I got carried away.  I added some salt and downed a heaping glass of this.  I resisted the overwhelming urge to drop everything and write sonnets, symphonies, and Pulitzer fiction!!  I think I'll go to bed comtemplating how I'm going to use the extra decade of life I'm sure I added to my mortality today...

An Open Letter to the Animal Kingdom

Please be forewarned that any and all animal life entering the residence of Paco and the Mad Hadder who have NOT been domesticated, named and given a bowl of food and water by said Paco and Mad Hadder will be dispatched immediately.  This includes (but is not limited) to those of you who crawl, fly, leap, slither, or dart.  As for the squirrel who sprinted in last night and is now sequestered in the cellar, you have been warned!  One tiny tooth inserted into our food storage down there will necessitate immediate declaration of WAR!  Touch just one potato and your fate will be sealed.  Heretofore mice have been semi-tolerated.  The residents have placed posion and then semi-good humor-edly disposed of the remains.  The rodent who DIED in the washing machine bin recently has necessitated institution of a zero tolerance policy.  ALL FOREIGN INTRUDERS BE THEY BAT, MOUSE, SQUIRREL, COYOTE, BIRD, FLY, OR WILDEBEAST WILL BE MERCILESSLY BROOMED WITHOUT FURTHER ADO.     ...The Management

7 Random Happiness Moments

My newest granddaughter, Maren, weezling her way into her father's heart

My friend, Melonie, posing with a gnome  named Gnerdy I knit for her

My oldest grandchild, Lily, at her field day in Centennial, CO

Grandsons, Pete and Charlie, keeping cool

Happy houseplants on my old-fashioned grandma porch

My English garden dainty ladies

Charlie and Pete enjoying mud

I've Never Seen the Likes...

I SOOOOOOOOOO didn't have seminary teachers the likes of THESE!  But then I guess I can't account for what they did "over there" after the last bell rang...