If At First You Don't Succeed

 {Zzzzzzzzzz}

Sorry if you're looking for the  "Memories of Me" Monday posting....today was crazy-busy, and then we had a disappointing trip to the Bloodmobile this evening. I need to do what Jack and Scout are doing.

I'll try again tomorrow.

Scout's Mouse Came in the House

 A few weeks ago Scout met up with this cute little mouse out in the garden.  At first the mouse didn't seem to think she was much of a threat.  They had a bit of a stare-off.

 

 Mouse decides maybe he'll just mosey along now . . .

 

Oh, no, you don't!

Not many critters get away from Scout.  She's quite the hunter.  I often think of keeping a Kill Sheet for her to track the birds, rodents, lizards, giant moths, and even praying mantises that she catches throughout the year.  One day a couple summers ago she caught & killed two hummingbirds.  Yes, hummingbirds!  TWO!  Honestly, I didn't know that was even possible but apparently it is!

So anyway, Scout caught this mouse and brought it into the house {of course} and {of course} it got away from her at one point and disappeared behind the tall {& very heavy} bookshelves in the living room.  It spent the night behind the bookcase and Scout spent the night crouched under the t.v. watching the crack where the mouse disappeared.  In the morning she was still there.  I finally had to take all the books off the shelves and then move the shelf enough for her to slip back there.  She chased the mouse out, caught it, and then I chased her, with the mouse in her mouth, out the pet door and into the garden where she and Jack harassed that poor mouse for at least an hour.

I decided he'd surely had enough and went out there and chased him out of the garden, under the cat fencing {much to Jack and Scout's disgust and annoyance}.  The little guy's fur was sticking up every which way but he looked basically unharmed.  He scurried off across the patio to parts unknown, and those rotten cats haven't forgiven me YET!

. . . but that was MY mouse . . . .!!!!

Stealing Succulents and Re-Purposed Pill Containers

Succulents. They're one of my obsessions. I love them. All different kinds, all shapes, all sizes (though, oddly enough, I know the names of very few). I like them because of their resilience, they don't need to be watered often, they can withstand high temps during the day and cold at night. At my house plants have to thrive on neglect to survive, and succulents are good at that.

Although I have been known to actually purchase succulents, my usual MO is to steal them. Wherever I go, if I encounter a succulent I will quietly and unobtrusively break off a small piece and slip it into my pocket. Or sometimes into Mike's pocket, if he is with me, or one of the boys. On one memorable occasion, I slipped a few bits into my mom's sweater pockets (and she later got poked by a bristle, sorry, Mom)!

People who love me put up with my thievery. I really can't help it. I enjoy my succulents all the more when I steal them because then they also remind me of places I have been, and the people who were there with me.

I've got cactus from all over the U.S., my neighbor's gardens, parks, islands, schools, tourist sites, and even one or two from foreign countries.

My latest acquisition is a piece of a jade plant in Hermosa Beach, just a block from the ocean. It's in the center of this photo:

That one's always going to remind me of the day I met up with a couple of old friends that I'd grown up with, and it will also remind me of all the lovely summer days spent at that very beach as kid, with my family and friends.

The rest of the plants in the above photo are from two places Mike and I visited recently; one is a very famous park in northern California, and the other is one of the historical sites right here in my own little home town.

Oh, that's my succulent "nursery." I recently got the cool idea to re-purpose empty pill containers (of which I'd amassed about 60-70!) and use them as individual containers for my cacti. Mike drilled several holes in the bottom of each one and filled them with potting soil mixed with sand. I then poked a hole in the dirt with a chopstick and popped in a cactus cutting. I'll keep the soil moist so that the cacti will root. Once they've got well-established roots I'll either plant them in the garden or put them in pots. I've placed all the containers on a large tray to catch any spilled water. It also makes it easy to move them from place to place.

Mike used to scold me when I'd bring home my stolen succulents. Now he's usually an accomplice. And sometimes he actually comes home with a "find" of his own.

The Cat Loves Yogurt

If Scout had opposable thumbs we'd really be in trouble at our house. She does help herself to whatever she wants!

Memories of Me Monday

If you saw yesterdays brief post you know that the memory jogger for today is: "What is your personal secret for happiness?"

Interesting question because one of my goals as an adult has been to be happy, purposely, by enjoying and treating each moment as precious, no matter how ordinary.

As a child, naturally, I didn't do that. At that time in my life, with so much of my life ahead of me, my happiness came from anticipation. I looked forward to 1st grade so I could play on the "big kid's playground" and not in the "baby yard," I anticipated the fun of Christmas, birthdays, and family vacations, I couldn't wait to be 12 and go to junior high school, 16 couldn't come soon enough because then I could date. Looking forward to these Big Events was exciting, and it seemed there was always a milestone ahead to look forward to.

I do remember, though, having a little trick -- and I suppose you could call it a secret -- that I used to help me through sad or scary times, but it still drew upon the concept of anticipation.

Although I loved school, there were a few things at school that were decidedly NOT fun for me; in fact, they were traumatic. Giving an oral report, for example, or doing a math problem on the board, reading aloud in front of my class, even my turn for Sharing Time in the early grades was an occasion for heart-pounding fear.

As I mentioned last week, I was very shy as a child. I much preferred sitting quietly in my seat to doing anything -- and I mean, anything -- that would cause my classmates to focus their attention on me. I can well remember that dry-mouthed fear, clammy hands, and fluttering stomach, when it was time for me to perform.

I also clearly remember that, once I was on my feet and had begun to speak, thoughts of home would float through my head and help calm me. The rational part of my brain would send me images of the front door of my house opening to welcome me. Inside my mom would be in the kitchen baking bread or cookies and the smell would fill the house. Through the kitchen window I'd be able to see our clothesline with a double row of snow-white cloth diapers snapping in the breeze.

In reality I was still in front of the class with knocking knees and trembling hands clutching my book report carefully printed in pencil but, as I paused to lick my lips and try to get a deep breath, I'd think to myself, soon this will be over and I can go Home.

I got through a lot of scary situations this way, by looking past it to the refuge of home. I saw my home as a sanctuary and, truly, it was the one place where I was completely protected, loved unconditionally, and accepted for just who I was. I wasn't shy around my family, I felt important, and I was surrounded by the people and things I loved best.

A lot of the things that frightened me as a child, still do. I still don't like speaking in public or being the center of attention. I much prefer to be in the audience than on the stage. But when it's necessary for me to do something that scares me I still use that same trick -- I cast my mind ahead and imagine myself at home, perhaps curled on the couch with a book and a cat, and I still feel that little lifting of my spirits as I think to myself, this will soon be over and i can go home.

The Cat and the Kill

Scout hunts pretty much every night. She always brings back her kill, and is very proud of her accomplishment.

I bet leaves that size really put up a fight!

Why I Can't Update my Blog

Miss Thing has me pinned. What cheek!