Which topics would you like to be more informed about?
I would love to know more about horticulture. I love to garden but sadly lose plants. My mother-in -law could drop her mop outside the back door and it would root before she picked it up. Many times I took her an ailing plant and the next time I saw it, it would be hale, hearty and a dazzling green.
She was very casual about her planting. She did not purchase fancy pots or fertilizer. Her pants loved her. If they’d sprouted feet, I knew they follow her. She rarely bought a plant. She’d just start with a cutting from a friend.
I believe our calico cat, Patches, was mentally ill. From the beginning, she liked the men in the family. As for the women, she either treated us with disdain or total rejection.
Many times, Patches behaved as though she was having hallucinations, staring intensely at walls or furniture as though something was there.
She was a very picky eater, preferring one brand of boxed cat food. The only other thing she’d touch was tuna. One morning I gave her the last of the cat food. That afternoon, on the way home from school, I sent my daughter into a convenience store with a five-dollar bill, assuming that was plenty. In a minute she was back out with her purchase. I always let the kids keep the change if they went in the store.
When we got home, Patches was yowling. I tore the top off the bag and poured. Patches had her face almost in the dish as dust fogged in her face, nearly choking her. My daughter had bought the cheapest item on the shelf with a cat picture. That may have been the very moment Patches took a dislike to us.
Bud and I settled into bed one night when Patches decided to visit him. He was lying flat on his back when she jumped up on him and started purring loudly and making biscuits on his chest. Eventually, she quieted down.
“Thank goodness, she finally settled down.” I said
“Yea, but I’d feel at lot better about it if she didn’t have her butt right on my face.” The
Segway, the motorized scooter, is not for the clumsy. We visited Sarasota, Florida many years ago with my daughter who’d been yearning for a Segway adventure. I wasn’t. I’ve always been uncoordinated. I knew what was in store for me.
In case you don’t know, the Segway has a motion sensor. When you lean forward, it goes forward. I hated it on site. Had I heard this ironic story about the Segway owner on NPR before my little outing, I’d have never gone.
Jimi Heselden, the owner of Segway, apparently drove one of the personal transport devices off a cliff and into a river. He was killed. Police say they do not suspect foul play.”
We received a whisper of instruction before our Segway ride began. My performance was even worse than I expected. I looked like I was trying to dance with the wretched thing. I never actually fell but I looked like a bobble-head doll. While everyone else in the group coasted along smoothly, I struggled to retain my upright position. I hated it!
Nutsrok 