The big ash tree in front of my house was dying. I’d had no clue since these days I don’t leave the house much and it had been weeks — probably two months — since I’d been out front. When we backed out of the driveway, I gasped. My big, beautiful ash tree was dead on one side. Dead! The gardener had told me I needed to water my tree more because it was not looking good. I explained to him, with a heavy heart, that there is an ash tree disease going through Las Vegas — and perhaps other parts of the country – that is killing ash trees and no amount of water can cure it. Last year I had watered it extensively and it seemed to be holding its own, but not now. The ash tree is right outside my window so I can see it as… Read More »
This is going to be brief. Ir’s part of a letter from my Grandmother Eloise in Chicago. I came across it while decluttering and although it’s a long letter, I found her last paragraph timely and thought you might find it interesting, too. Here goes: “I am forgetting about the election and what it may mean. Things are bad and they are not going to get any better in the near future – many changes are going on that are revolutionary in their possibilities – and we find even the days and temperatures and the climates making drastic changes in a few years. We have had almost spring-like weather up to now [this was written in December] – just an occasional cold day – and not anything like real winter. It was the same last year and then one did not need a heavy wrap until after January and then… Read More »
It was late — past midnight, going on for 1:00 a.m. I simply could not sleep. The cats were snoozing peacefully on each side of me and there I lay — a cat sandwich — thinking of all the things I need to do in the morning. And now it’s half past 1:00. No help for it – I was going to have to get up and fix my sure-cure-for-sleeplessness, a cup of warm Ovaltine and buttered toast. The cats would not like being woken, but hey, who’s in charge here, anyway? Oh, yeah, right. Well, maybe they’ll forgive me. Of course, as soon as I snapped on the kitchen light, they were there, dancing around my feet and uttering little chirps and yowls. “I am not getting you anything to eat,” I told them. “You had your dinner.” Smokey looked right at me and I could tell what she… Read More »
“what gets my goat.” A favorite expression of my grandfather’s. As a child I knew my grandparents didn’t have goats — or livestock of any kind — so it always amused me to hear grandfather referring to his goat. Whatever that meant …
Cats like to nap. They like it so much, they do it for hours at a time. Like 18-20 hours. And yet when we say “cat nap,” we don’t mean a sleep-a-thon. So how did the phrase “cat nap” come to mean a brief refreshing nap?