EVERYTHING COMES IN THREE'S

As much as I enjoyed my Christmas visit with my Mother in Florida, I admit I had several "worries" while I was there. It is not something that usually happens when I travel. It's not like I fear the plane will crash. I get ... well ... "concerned" about some things -- back home in Arkansas -- which I have no control over.

I always worry about "The Girls". I know they are getting good care at the Vet where I take them, but I still wish there were some other way for them to be safe & sound -- & well fed -- while I am away. I always look forward to getting them back home.

I get concerns about the weather when I am in Florida at Christmas. Not the weather there, but what the conditions are in the rest of the U.S. I guess I am always fearful I will not be able to get home as planned, I'll miss a flight connection or that I'll be stuck in some strange airport due to weather.

In 2000, while flying back to Little Rock, I got stuck in Atlanta, due to the ice storm in Arkansas. They didn't want to do it, but I finally convinced Delta Airlines to fly me to Memphis, where I could stay, until the airport in Little Rock was re-opened. That took an additional two days.

This year at Christmas week, there was a MAJOR set of storms working their way across the U.S. I was trying NOT to watch The Weather Channel. I didn't want to get all hyper & concerned with their reports on the terrible conditions the travelers were facing. Of course they certainly had my attention with reports the state of Oklahoma was shut down with record snow. Check the map !! That's the next state West of Arkansas.

By Christmas Eve, all the news programs were reporting on the horrible weather. My alert level was at "Def Con 4" when the reports came in of Central Arkansas getting 5-9 inches of rain !!

I phoned my neighbor in Arkansas. His news was worse than the TV. We actually had 10 inches of rain. All the area where we live was flooded, as he reported "... the worst I have ever seen."

Well, luckily for me, my flights coming home were fine & right on time. Flying over from Memphis, I was able from my window seat to see all the flooded farm fields, rivers & homes. Now I was worried my route home from the airport would be blocked. Faulkner Lake Road had been flooded & closed two times already in 2009.

I had to drive -- carefully & slowly -- through high water as I feared. It's a creepy feeling & one never feels safe in doing so.

Then, I had to drive through it again the next morning, "TWICED" (Inside Joke) to go to the Vet to get my cats. I HAD TO GET MY CATS !!

The road, looking West, still with water flowing over it, two days after I got home on Christmas Day.

To the East, where the same creek meanders back again, the flooding was worse & the water was deeper & wider. It looks as if a car stalled from trying to make it through the water.

For all my worries, the flooding on my property had receded quickly. Water had gotten into my storage building, but it appears it resulted in little damage. Still, I have a good amount of yard clean up ahead of me.

Once again, I have been lucky. Many places in Arkansas experienced far worse flooding than where I live. I had three reasons to be grateful: my house was high & dry, I got home on time, safe & sound & My Girls did too.

As my Mother always says -- "Everything comes in three's."

XMAS PAST

Ever since my Father died -- about 20 years ago -- each Christmas I go to Florida to spend the holiday with my Mother. I fly to Orlando & then rent a car to drive the remaining 60+ miles to Wildwood, Florida, where Mom lives in Parkwood Oaks, a "55+ Community".

Christmas in Florida is different. Never a chance for a "White Christmas". Maybe rain & "cool" temperatures -- got 50 degrees ?? But, not the need for ice scrapers or salting anything other than food. The roads are drivable, even if full of "Blue Hairs" & constant turn signals.

A lot of people from the North -- Canada included -- spend their Winter months in Florida. They are the "Snow Birds". The traffic on the roads changes with the seasons. Winter can be hectic & congested.

People in Florida like to decorate their homes for Christmas. Lots of displays, colored lights & music playing from hidden speakers. I like to take a walk at night to admire their efforts. Very seasonal.

With the warmer weather in Florida, my Mother & her neighbors have the ability to garden just about all year round. What we have as "house plants", grow outside all year. Sometimes, when colder weather comes along -- think 30's -- the plants get covered up at night.

My Mother has several large palm trees. A few years years ago, I attached a Staghorn Fern to the palm in the front yard. It has now grown large enough to almost circle the tree. This is how these ferns grow in nature, attached to trees ... just not where it freezes.


My Mother, next to the front palm tree, is bundled up in two sweaters & a jacket, fighting the bitterly cold 60 degree temperatures. [Full time living in Florida, thins the blood.]

In the backyard, is another Staghorn. This one I started in a wire basket, hanging from one of the awnings of Mom's place. It grew so large it had to be moved to a tree, where it is hanging from a limb & has a large flower pot under it, for added support & to not break the tree limb. This fern is too large to move now. But, it just keeps growing.

Being Florida, Mom also grows her own oranges on a tree she planted. Nothing like picking your own -- really fresh -- fruit. Neighbors "share" their fruit with each other, as some grow grapefruits & lemons as well.

This past Christmas trip had some "visitors" appear in the backyard, but not to pick oranges. These are Sandhill Cranes, which came several days to sample the food put out for the smaller birds, [the cranes were 4-5 foot tall] & some treats intended for squirrels. The cranes were very regal & mellow, & seemingly not afraid of humans. The birds knew where the handouts were.

Whatever the time of year, it is always enjoyable to visit my Mother in Florida. At Christmas, it now seems "normal" to have the pleasant weather & be outside each day in a T-shirt & shorts, rather than fighting the cold weather. The "Spirit of Christmas" is still there, it is just easier to enjoy.

As I sat in the Orlando airport waiting for my flight home on Christmas day, I admired the large tree in the center of the concourse & thought to myself ... "MERRY XMAS & let others have the WHITE Christmas".

CONSIGNMENT CATS

I had to take the three cats to the Vet for boarding while I went to Florida for Christmas. It's expensive, but I do have responsibility for them. Comes with the territory.

I was surprised to find out the Vet has a new service; they will "advertise" in their clinic the availability of animals in their care to people they know to be trustworthy pet owners. It ensures the animal a good home & continued care by the Vet who knows & has treated the animal.

On a lark, while there last Saturday, I registered my three cats. Let's face it, three cats are a bit much, especially when they are fussy on which [expensive] foods they will eat, require a lot of my time & it costs more than $30.00 a day to board them. I'm on a fixed income.

I was surprised get a phone call while in Florida. Someone wanted TWO of the cats. The good news is that the new owner pays the boarding fee & any other Vet costs associated with the process. I save a bunch of money.


NIBBLETS (left)

The bad news is the new owners took Momma Kitty & THE WOBBLER; my favorites & certainly the sweetest of the original three. I end up still owning Nibblets, who I have mentioned previously, has some "issues" in the social world of cats.

Well, having one cat is a lot easier all around. I'm saving money. I don't have multiple cats fighting over which one will be sitting in my lap all the time & the bed at night will now be a lot less crowded.

Thinking about it ... I may go back to the Vet & see if anyone will take Nibblets as well. There is one"issue" I would have with the whole plan, which is highlighted by reading down below ...

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DO YOU REALLY BELIEVE ANY OF THIS THAT YOU ARE READING ?? !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!


I was sooooo glad to go get "My Girls" this morning at the Vet. [They were closed for the holiday weekend, but I had made arrangements in advance to retrieve them.]

After getting home & getting the cats -- & me -- situated, everything has settled down & back to "normal" ... whatever that is in this household. THE WOBBLER is laying in my lap -- purring -- as I type.

I love my kitties.

THE CATS ARE GONE

I knew this day would come. I just didn't realize it would be so soon. There is such an empty feeling in me right now. In a way, I knew I would feel the "loss", but it seems greater than I thought it would.

With the cats, I received many comments from friends who found it strange for me to be attached to non-reptiles. Suffice it to say my "Dog Lover" friends made it known I was some sort of nerd for having cats. Those people who like cats, mostly expressed surprise.

I have questioned my own feelings towards ... "The Three Thugs". Many times. I have seen the changes in myself. Caring & worrying when they were "late" coming inside. Did they have enough food ?? Would they eat the food I gave them, or did I need to try another variety ?? Cat hair ?? Who cares !! So many emotions inside me. So much love to give ... and receive back.

Heck. I've treated ... "The Three Idiots" -- Precious, Nibblets & THE WOBBLER (always spelled in caps.) better than most women I have known.

I walk through the house & it seems strange they are not under foot. I miss WOBS "talking" to me.

I don't think I'll ever have any other cats. It would be too hard to find & train a new cat to replace any of the three. These show personality & return emotions. We have fun "together", working & playing in the yard. Well, not so much when the old John Deere is cutting grass.

I miss them not being here.





Precious, the Mother Kitty -- Laying in the middle of the desk where I write. This is actually a favorite of all the cats. A place to relax, receive back rubs, purr up a storm & donate cat hair to whatever/whoever I was writing to.







Nibblets at the top of the photo, with THE WOBBLER, out in the yard. A time to inspect & explore everything & an opportunity to bring bird & rodent remains to the front porch, to savor & enjoy. [And for me to clean up when they are finished.]


Yes ... it was hard taking them to the Vet this A.M., especially Nibblets, who went "missing" for 20 minutes when I was ready to put her in her carrier. Maybe she knew it was time for them to be on their "vacation" at the Vet, while I went off to Florida for Christmas with Mom.

I already am looking forward to "our return" next weekend.

Then back to "normal" -- cats running through the house, let them out, let them in, food snubbed, cat hair on everything, including me. In other words -- THE GOOD LIFE.

LIFE SAVING PEANUT BUTTER

My Mother came to America after World War II. She'd married my Dad when he was serving in the Military in Great Britain. Love at first sight. He "popped the question" in less than 10 days.

Things were different with emigration after the war. With tons of paperwork & sponsors needed, it took almost a year for my Mother to make it over to the U.S. & join my Dad. The borders were a bit tighter back then.

In 1953 my Mother took me to England; to show me to the family & probably to cure a bit of homesickness on her part. We were there for two months. Dad got to stay home & work.

My friend Kelly sent me an e-mail recently titled "Older Than Dirt". It listed a lot of things from ..."way back then" ... which if you recognized, you scored points. The winning score -- for knowing things like home delivery of milk, ice boxes, (which my family had) & phone party lines, etc. -- made you "Older than Dirt".

Our trip to England certainly had methods of transportation which would probably make that "dirt" questioner. My Mom & I took the train from Rochester, New York to New York City. It was a steam engine train. The train had to make stops in such cites as Syracuse & Albany, not only for passengers, but to take on water for the engine, since it ran on steam from coal.

From New York City to Great Britain we went by boat -- H.M.S. Queen Elizabeth. Think Titanic. We even saw some ice flows in the upper Atlantic Ocean.

The trip took a week to complete. Today the same distance would be covered by plane in eight to 10 hours. Back then, in the "dirt days", flying was for the wealthy & it was not the method of travel it has become.

When we arrived in Watford, England, I was treated like a movie star. The local news paper came to interview my Mother, the returning British girl, & former G.I. War Bride, bringing her "American son" back "home". We had our family picture on the front page of the newspaper, & I was featured as the "Little Cowboy" from the United States, due to my blue jeans with small guns & bullets embroidered on the pockets.

I had a good time my two months in England. I played a lot with my young Uncles & did things like going to the movies, having "ice lollies" (Popsicles) & playing at the bomb shelters. Yes, this was post-war & there were all sorts of aspects of the fighting & destruction still visible. Many areas & buildings were in rubble & vast areas had not yet been cleared.

One thing I did not care for in Great Britain was the food. Really strange stuff they ate. Plus, I was a VERY fussy eater -- the type told to sit at the dining table until the carrots were eaten. Never did eat them.

This is were my Mother was really prepared. She knew me well. She wasn't going to let "Cowboy Billy" starve.

For the trip, my Mother packed TWO five-pound CANS of Peter Pan Peanut Butter. [Metal cans with a key attached to the bottom. The key was then used to unwind the lid from the cans. (More "dirt stuff".)] I survived on P.B.&J.'s. I think I did finish off both cans before we made our return trip -- again by boat -- to America.

I still love my peanut butter. There are currently two jars -- big ones, not in metal cans, from Sam's Club -- in the pantry. Now I buy Jiff Peanut Butter.

Sorry Peter Pan. But, thanks for saving my life.

MERRY XMAS

I know ... "Xmas" is a crude abbreviation for Christmas. My beloved 7th grade school teacher, Mrs. Gilmore, who I have written about previously, was the first person, maybe the only person I can remember, who had such a strong dislike for the word "Xmas". It's weird & convoluted, but I like to write "Xmas" at this time of year, in memory of Mrs. Gilmore. I would love to hear her voice say one more time -- "Xmas is not the proper word for Christmas".

So ... to do it proper for everyone ... MERRY CHRISTMAS.

When I was a young kid in Rochester, New York, Christmas, was a special time. It was cold outside & most every Christmas was a White Christmas, from "lake effect snow", off both Lakes Erie & Ontario. Despite money not being plentiful growing up, my Mom & Dad -- and/or, Santa Claus -- always seemed to manage to have one "major" gift under the Christmas tree each year. [A real tree. I don't think the fake trees were even invented back then.]

I remember the electric trains I received one year, which led to additional trains & accessories each following Christmas for the large train set-up my Dad built in our basement. I still think he built all that for his own fun.

Another Christmas, next to the tree, brought a bike, something I had been wanting truly bad. Before that year, I had a series of used, second-hand bikes. This bike was brand new & all mine. [Of course, all that snow meant the bike stayed in the neighbor's garage till Spring, when the snow & slush finally melted & I could take the bike out for ride. The Curse of Christmas Bike's ... in the North.]

Somewhere, long ago, perhaps about college time, Christmas took on a different meaning. It was about returning home, visiting with Mom & Dad & sharing time together, making up for all the miles & years which now separated us.

The idea of a "White Christmas" disappeared about 25 years ago, when my parents moved to Central Florida. Certainly no snow there. Much warmer temperatures too, even in the Winter.

I'll be flying down to Florida this coming Sunday for Christmas. When my Father passed, I made sure it was the one holiday my Mother & I would always be together. I've been going down there every year. Now days, instead of snow, it would not seem like Christmas without palm trees, temperatures in the 70's & riding my bike in my shorts, working on my mid-Winter tan.

That one week of time is really the only time it "feels right" ... like there is something "special". Now days, Christmas is all commercial & money spent & made. The Christmas displays are up in the stores/malls long before the Halloween candy is marked down. Thanksgiving is just a prelude to shopping on "Black Friday". The nightly news broadcasts show people, crowded in the stores, shopping for bargains, no doubt adding to the balance on those high-interest credit cards.


Not for me. I want to remember Christmas as it was when I was a kid. For many years, I would be going out in the cold & snow on a dark, moon-less Christmas Eve, looking up at the stars, trying to find that "special star" which shown so long ago. I was looking for the BRIGHT STAR, almost hoping to see it move in the heavens, to let me know ... "That's the one" !!

Christmas is joy, love & remembrances of what we really celebrate -- a birth & life to save us all. It's NOT just buying big, expensive presents on sale. It's a time we remember to give thanks for so many REAL GIFTS we have been given.

Merry Xmas, Mrs. Gilmore ... where ever you are.

MY GRAY HAIR

I have had gray hair for years. What people don't know or realize is this -- I was born with gray hair & for years DYED MY HAIR.

As proof, I submit a photo of my Mother & me taken in July, 1949. I was two at the time & my Mother -- a total HOTTIE -- would have been twenty-two.

At an early age, my Mother started adding color to my hair, since as I was getting older, my hair was not darkening. It continued to be a very light -- almost white -- color of gray.

It was an event which took place about every two weeks at our house -- Mom putting on the rubber gloves, me with my head over the kitchen sink & the hair color being applied. I think it was when my toe nails got cut as well.

Mother tried several different colors. I was rather young, but I remember some old photographs my Dad took. I had light to dark brown color most of the time, depending on what was on sale at the corner drugstore. I think I was even a redhead for a few weeks one time. That's not a good color for me.

When I got older, I learned to color my hair myself. I often thought of coloring my hair bright blond. Think "Professional Wrestler Blond", but I didn't have the nerve to try to pull it off. Plus, I thought someone would pick a fight with me & beat me up.

Finally, around college, I had enough of the ritual of coloring my hair & went for the "Gray Look". Much to my delight, the chicks dug it.

They still do, although they would NEVER have gray hair themselves !!

RURAL HOME FIRES

My address is listed as North Little Rock, Arkansas. Actually I live outside the city limits ... "in the county" (Pulaski). As such, emergency services -- in this case, the Fire Department -- are from the East Pulaski Volunteer Fire Department. [I know, it says EAST. Technically & geographically , this area is EAST of Little Rock.]

Since I moved here in 1996, there have been several house fires in the area I am aware of. In two cases, people were killed, one of those being Mr. Mayo, who had a home at the end of my road. He was old & frail, & as the story goes, when the fire was underway, he went back inside the house to look for his wife. She was already outside & he died in the fire.

Another fire was just about a 1/4 mile from here. I woke one night to noises, which turned out to be the trucks & cars of the Volunteer Firemen. The house was being totally consumed by flames & the firemen had to keep running in water trucks to fight the fire. The house was lost. There are no fire hydrants out here in the country.

A few years ago, I was out of town when an electrical outlet shorted & melted some wires in my garage. This is were I have my turtle & lizard collection. I was VERY LUCKY a fire did not result, although the smoke/soot damage from melted plastic resulted in a large clean-up job covered by insurance.

From the damaged/destroyed homes I have seen, it appears that if a fire gets well started, then by the time the Volunteer Firemen & their equipment make it to the location, the chances are slim & none to save the structure without MAJOR damage. In most cases, the homes are gutted by the fire & will have to be torn down, or completely rebuilt.

This picture is the latest home in my area I have seen destroyed by fire. It must have happened Thanksgiving weekend. I drove by the house -- on Faulkner Lake Road -- on Wednesday. The home was there. When I went past the location again on Sunday, the house was leveled. I have no idea what caused the fire but everything about the house has been destroyed, including a car in the driveway.

What concerns me, is this location is across the road from the Stone Links golf course & housing development. It is inside the city limits of North Little Rock & as such should have had the city's fire services respond, not Volunteeers. How did this fire get so out-of-hand ? How long did it take for ANY fire equipment & personnel to arrive ? I never saw, heard or read anything about this fire.

I don't use "fire" in my house. I don't burn candles & although I have a fireplace & stove insert, I do not use them. I have my gas furnace inspected twice a year. Outdoors, I do burn some trash, leaves & tree limbs, all well away from the house, in only the best weather conditions.

The last thing I would want would be to have a fire at my house. From the burned homes I have seen locally, a house fire requires three phone calls: (1) -- 911 (2) -- Insurance company (3) -- An Architect ... because the house is going to go to the ground. Not a pleasant thought.

Everyone reading this -- BE FIRE SMART & FIRE SAFE !!

MARLENE ... AKA ... "WEINER"

In the past I have mentioned her several times in these posts, so it is time I added some more "detail" to who Marlene is & some of the role she has played in my life. Hopefully, too, this will satisfy Bubba, who seems way too interested in the details of this relationship.

Marlene -- called for some unknown reason "Weiner" by her two younger brothers -- was the object of my affections, starting in the early 60's in Honeoye, New York. It was my second year at Honeoye Central School. My sophomore year. I don't know were she was my freshmen year at the school -- DUH, try the 8th grade -- but that second year at school, Marlene became "IT" as far as my heart was concerned. She truly was ... "My First Love".

We had a great relationship in the beginning, as most couples experience. Her family accepted me & allowed me to join in most all their activities as the "7th member". It was -- & is -- a memorable time in my life.

Marlene & me were a "couple" till the end of my junior year. We broke up that Summer, but had times when we were back together. It was a very small school, in a very small town & it was certainly hard to not drift back to each other. We always cared about the other person ... a relationship which lasted -- in various forms -- to this day.

A lot of my Senior year, I was strictly single, & always aware of which fellas were walking down the school halls with Marlene. I had the proverbial "broken heart" for a long time.

Finally things got better for me. Time does heal. So the less I needed Marlene in my life, the more she entered it. We never stayed apart too long. We'd be back together, get in some argument or disagreement & "break-up". After awhile, we'd start the "make-up" process & it would all begin again.

One of the BIG blow-ups we had occurred late in the school year of 1965. We were in the "make-up" process ... when I changed the rules of the game. I had a date to a school event with a very good looking, much younger girl [try 8th grader] named Pam. Actually, in that time, I had several dates with Pam. I was cookin.

Marlene did not take it well when she found out about Pam & me. Jealousy is one word for it. Maybe it was just because we always seem to think of the other as ... "mine".

This is where my memory gets ... well ... fuzzy. The bottom line is: I dumped Pam. Thereafter, Marlene & I were once again "steadys". Ah ... stupid, young love.

A few weeks later, Marlene had a school activity in New York City. [I had a date with Pam while Marlene was gone -- just to "explain things" to Pam.] Marlene returned from NYC with an autographed photo of herself with Heavyweight Boxing Champion Jack Dempsey, as a gift for me. Being a big boxing fan back in my teens, I was elated at the gift.

The photo, & folder it was in, stayed in my hands for all of five minutes. I made some wise-ass comment about the photo would look better without Marlene in it. She snatched the photo out of my hands, took it back & we broke up again. Swift !!

And I don't think Pam would go out with me anymore, either.

Through the college years, Marlene & I continued our off/on relationship. It became more difficult when I moved on to schooling in Memphis, Tennessee. We drifted apart at times, but I still stayed in contact with Roy & Ruth, Marlene's parents. That never changed

Eventually Marlene & I married others & lost contact for a few years. We both got divorces & eventually were back in contact as friends, which we remain to this day, me living in Arkansas & Marlene dividing time with her new husband between homes in New York state & Summerland Key, Florida.

It's nice to be adults. We get along now & don't disagree ... well, very often. I even got my autographed Jack Dempsey photo back from "Weiner". Life is good.

SARAH

There was an article on Sarah in the Little Rock newspaper today. [Arkansas Democrat Gazette] We all know who Sarah is now days. Like other "celebrities" -- she may be questionable in her political future, but no doubt she qualifies as a celebrity -- Sarah no longer needs to have her last name included. Just like Madonna, Britney, or even another name in the news a lot the past few days -- Tiger. We all know who she is.

Sarah was in Fayetteville, Arkansas yesterday, on her book tour, signing copies at the Sam's Club. The article had a nice photo of her & was captioned with the fact each person getting a book signed would have a MAXIMUM of six seconds with Sarah. The article went on to say people had lined up over night, in the freezing cold, to buy copies of Sarah's book & have those six seconds with her while they got the book signed.

I have a large collection of books which I have been lucky enough to get signed by the books author. I have been to both book signings & in many cases, found an address for the author & sent the book directly to the author to sign. I ask the book be personally inscribed with my name. Makes me feel like there has been a "connection". The people getting Sarah's book are just getting her signature. [I have not seen what her writing looks like, but from the video on TV of her book tour, that's a pretty quick "slash" for her name. But, hey. It's six seconds.]

I doubt if I will buy Sarah's book. They have it at my local Barnes & Noble Bookseller. I have not even bothered to "thumb it". I'll wait. Maybe when it is on the SALE TABLE for $6.49, maybe then I'll buy it, mostly to say I have a copy. I've got lots of books I've never really read.

I do have another book ABOUT Sarah. Got it off the Internet. I think I will read this one. Looks more interesting.

The newspaper article on Sarah had quotes from some of the people who stood in line overnight & got the book signed. All had positive things to say about her. I would hope so, to be in the freezing cold for 8-10 hours.

One comment caught my eye & stayed with me. Someone said Sarah was "... our Princes Diana". That's taking it to an even higher level than "celebrity". That's going ROYAL.

It's funny, I always had a different opinion of Diana. [Here we go again -- a one word name.] Maybe it is being half-British, since my Mother was born & raised in England, I had a different take on Diana.

Diana -- to me -- was a "nanny" to small children, who was "selected" to provide Prince Charles heirs to the British throne. She was a "commoner" ... not a "Royal". From an unknown, she eventually grew so popular, she became more important than other members of the Royal Family themselves. She took on a life all her own, with the expensive clothes, articles written about every single thing she did or said, & seemed to be only interested in her own prestige & wealth.

WAIT !!! Maybe Sarah IS our Princes Diana.

HAIRCUTS & NOSE HAIR

A lot of people know I cut my own hair. I have not been to a barber in probably more than 35 years. That means for over half my life I've done my own haircutting.

The last haircut I had from a "professional" was at a little shop in the basement of the YMCA, on Madison Avenue, in Memphis. There was a little black barber who would cut my hair just as I wanted it done. [That was another issue with barbers -- I'd tell them how I wanted my hair to be cut & how I wanted it to look. But ... they never did it the way I wanted.] "Jimmy the Barber" -- or what ever his name was, as I can't remember stuff from 10 minutes ago -- always cut my hair to my liking.

Those many years ago I just got it into my mind there was no reason to pay someone to do something I could do myself. If I messed up & cut my hair wrong ... so what ?? It would grow back pretty quick.

My friend Bubba always would rag on me about cutting my own hair. Bubba liked to get his hair cut every two or three weeks. He made appointments. Also, at least when he lived in Little Rock, he went to a "stylist" -- a "hot babe" I believe -- who would serve him wine & fuss on him, no doubt working on Bubba for that "tip" at the end of the session.

I never went to any barber shop which served booze. I used to question Bubba about how many glasses of wine he drank while he was there. I was always concerned the police would nab him on the way home & Bubba would get a DWI. At least he would look neat & trim in his mug shot.

I know that barbers -- or "stylists" -- often trim more than the hair on the head. They cut beards, mustaches & "other areas".

It's no secret guys, especially as we get older, have to be concerned with those little hairs which seem to start growing in our ears & nose. [I don't ever remember anyone in college who had any "hair problems" in those areas. It's an "old guy thing".]

I also don't remember asking Bubba if those girls who styled his hair worked on his nose & ears. I'll have to ask him sometime.

Since I do my own haircutting, I have to also deal with the "other hair". I've got one of those battery operated trimmers which fit so nicely in the nose & ears. Does a good job. I use it about every 3-5 days. Nothing looks worse than a hairy nose, or for that matter, "grass" growing out of the old ear canal.

Now days, since I don't have a job to go to, looking all neat & tidy in the morning is not a major function of starting my day. If my clothes don't match, or my hair is not combed, so what ?? Still, it's nice to know my nose & ears look good & smooth.

NIBBLETS

Of the three cats which live with me, I have written in detail on two of them -- Precious, who is the mother cat & THE WOBBLER [Wobs] who is the youngest of the group. It's time I wrote a few paragraphs about Nibblets, the older sister/stepsister of Wobs.

Nibblets was born on my front porch on March 22nd, 2007. She was -- by some act of God -- the only survivor of a batch of six kittens born to Precious. This was probably due to the fact that Precious was too young to be having babies & it seems neither she nor I knew much of what to do at that point in time. [It was learn-as-you go for both of us, with me assisting with umbilical cord cutting.]

Despite semi-poor mothering skills, freezing temperatures & and a human [me] who wasn't sure they even wanted cats around here, Nibblets survived, mostly on her own. The fact I had major surgery several weeks after she was born only added to the difficulties. To this day, I feel some guilt about the conditions she faced.

NOTE: When Precious had a second batch of kittens on June 6th, 2007 -- nine this time -- she was more mature & physically ready for all mothering duties, & did the whole birthing process on her own. No help from me this time. This batch of kittens provided me with Wobs.

I realize now that Nibs would have benefited from being raised with siblings/litter mates. She is the "roughest" of the three cats & often has to be chastised to ... "play nice". Nibs can play too rough with Wobs & seems to delight in stalking her smaller sized sister, either in the house or in the yard. Being in a litter of kittens would have "taught" Nibs the proper ways to play. [Ever the "Mom", Precious will still give Nibs a good chase & as she gets older, Wobs is standing up for herself more & more with her sister.]

As she has gotten older, Nibblets is becoming more mellow. While not the "lap cat" which both Precious & Nibs are, Nibs will still seek me out & almost demand her chin & ears to be scratched for several minutes. When she's had enough ... off she goes.

As each cat has a distinct & unique personality, Nibblets is the most "outdoor" of the three. When I first get up in the morning, she wants to go out. She remains outside for an hour or two, then returns to the door to be let inside for breakfast, a nap & then back out.

Often, Nibblets doesn't want to come back inside at night. The other two cats will be at the door when it gets dark, ready to come in for the night. Sometimes Nibs is a "no-show". I have to wait on her, often going to the door every 15 minutes to look to see if she has arrived back. Finally she is at the door & comes in for the night.

Last night she didn't come home. Between six & nine P.M., I had to keep removing Precious from her cozy spot on my lap & would go to both doors to check for Nibblets. I even took the flashlight & walked around outside calling for her. No Nibs.

I gave up & went to bed. A few minutes later I thought I heard something. I got up to check the doors again. Still no cat.

I woke at two A.M. I got out of bed & checked the front door, then the side door. There was Nibblets, ready to run in & go straight for the food bowl. I was so glad to see her I didn't even bother to scold her, as if that does any good with a cat.

Nibblets has been inside all day, probably due to the wind & rain we have had, rather than being too tired from her night outside. As a matter of fact, all three cats have been inside all day.

As I finished the paragraph above, Nibblets came into the room, let out a squeak which means "follow me" in cat talk & led me to the side door. She's gone outside again, now the rain has stopped. I wonder when she will come back tonight ... or ... in the morning.