Birthday Customs…

Image from Pixabay.com

Yesterday was my 79th birthday, and I thought it arrived much quicker than usual. Time is whizzing past us now, and getting anything done gets more challenging every day.

We are so far behind on almost every front and have accepted that we can never really catch up, so new ways of adjusting to the workload must be found.

The small voice at the back of my head insists that we should be grateful to be capable of doing anything these days.

That is right, but that doesn’t make it acceptable.

Back to the birthday.

In our house, we have a custom on birthdays. We must only do the things we wouldn’t mind repeating for the rest of the year. This is much harder to implement than you think, but we still try.

Ignoring the housework comes easy, something I have been practising for ages. LOL…

No arguments, angry words or sticky, frustrating situations.

The diet can take a walk; this is your day.

Be your best, shower, wash your hair, and wear your best clothes. It is just for one day, after all…

I had to use the computer to ensure its presence for the rest of the year but limited myself to the basics. On the same theory, I spent an hour with the WIP, adding spice to the outline.

Next was the family visitation, birthday cake, cards and happy conversation…

Weatherwise, it was a brilliant day. The sun was welcoming, so a little gardening was necessary. Nothing drastic, just a little planting and tidying up.

My day had turned out quite well, I thought. These are just two instances that tried to upset the apple cart.

On the phone with an absent family member, I described my day and the lovely pink birthday cake. I was instantly corrected by one and all, saying the cake was blue. The senility angle reared its ugly head along with my hackles. I tried not to mind; these things often happen when you get to my age.

Later, while gardening, rather than asking for help, I lifted a far too heavy rock and carried it some distance. Not something I care to repeat, so that was silly.

I managed to reverse the first of these instances.

The remains of the cake were in the kitchen cupboard, and I desperately wanted to look. But what if it was blue? How would that make me feel?

Eventually, I did look, and it was pink.

I will remember the red faces of my family when I showed them the cake. Very gratifying!

Milo learns How to Handle the Catflap…

I thought that most cats would jump at the chance of freedom when presented with a means of escape.

Not Milo, bless him. He simply didn’t cotton on, and I was beginning to think he never would.

I have done all the right things, shown him how it works, and stood there for ten minutes holding it open.

But the penny wasn’t dropping.

He is desperate to go out, but leaving the door open wasn’t really an option, what with the weather we have been getting lately.

If he was a good boy and always used the litter tray, it wouldn’t be a problem. He could take all the time in the world to figure it out. But he has adopted other places to use. Too many other places, so it is getting a bit crucial.

I have been diligent about keeping the litter tray clean, even changing the brand of pellets, but nothing has helped.

He has been outside, which should have encouraged him, but he seems so nervous out there, almost a scaredy cat.

Whereas indoors, he is anything but nervous. If you could see the way he flies around the room at top speed like a ginger ninja, you wouldn’t think he would be scared of anything.

Yesterday, we were in the yard, and the wind blew the door closed. Something must have spooked him, for he made for the door and vanished through the catflap like he had been doing it for years. Yay, progress, I thought.

Not from inside, though. I have even used strong tape to hold the flap open, but he didn’t oblige…

This was one problem I didn’t expect, hopefully not for much longer…

Milo, the Bonsai Cat…

I have no idea what he thinks he is doing, but this wasn’t what I had in mind.

He refuses to use the cat flap but loves to be outside. I didn’t expect him to be as naughty outside as indoors, but maybe that was wishful thinking! Already he has explored everything he can reach, although I caught him looking up at the wall, so maybe his world will get bigger with time.

Please ignore that rotten wall, I did paint it last year, honest!

The Lucky Duckling… #True Story

Image by Melanie from Pixabay

Lucy, the Lucky Duckling…

I was watching Britain’s Got Talent last night when a duck waddled onto the stage. Another one of those animal acts that occasionally are brilliant, I thought, but usually amusing when the animals decide to have fun instead.

This duck had no intention of performing, so the act didn’t last long.

For one magical moment, I remembered a duck I once knew. Her name was Lucy, and I was very fond of her way back in my childhood.

We lived in the countryside on a small farm, and every Spring, the farmer would send for 12 newborn chicks. They would arrive in a cardboard box that had holes in the lid. It was a magical moment when that lid was raised, and we could see the tiny chicks. They never seemed any the worse for their deliverance and were soon installed in the barn in a special pen complete with a heat lamp.

In one particular year, 12 ducklings were also ordered, and we awaited their arrival with a mixture of excitement and curiosity. When they arrived, there were 13 in the box, something we would later be grateful for.

After a few weeks, they were transferred into an outdoor run, always our first point of call after school. Only we couldn’t see any of the ducklings in the pen.

Nobody would say where they had gone, just that they must have escaped somehow.

Later, I found out that they had indeed escaped onto the main road and been run over by the passing cars. This information was kept from the younger children, and it was a hard secret for me to keep. The next day, a neighbour turned up with a cardboard box that also had holes in the lid.

I was given the box and told to open it. Inside was what I liked to think was the thirteenth duckling, Lucy.

We often had a chicken for dinner, but Lucy lived to a grand old age, waddling around the garden…

©JayeMarie2023

Image by Birgit from Pixabay 

My Bubble… #Poetry #Fiction #MLMM.com

Image by Alexa from Pixabay 

I occupy the space inside a sweet bubble.
Barely hearing a whisper
Travelling through the parallel universe
Trying to find value in all I see and hear
The impact on my mind is symbolic at best.
I do not have to feign interest.
I feel like an initiate.
Hoping my mind has become a sponge.
When I break free from my bubble
To make use of all I have seen and heard.
To move, to change, to lead my best life…

©AnitaDawes2023

mindlovemiserymeagerie.com


Silent Sunday… I think!

Image by zhugher from Pixabay 

This is my virtual walk today. It’s raining, but I won’t get wet…

A long walk off a short pier came to mind, but I’m not quite ready for that… yet!

All morning, I was convinced today was Monday. Not sure if finding out it was a good thing or not!

#Macro Monday…

Image by Andreas from Pixabay 

We are supposed to have a few nasty blizzards this week, not to mention a lot of biting cold. So, I chose this image because I love moss, and to remind me that Spring is out there, somewhere…