Adventures of the Other Kind

I learned a very interesting and sobering thing today......Life's adventures are not all fun and games........beside the joyous, memorable, inspiring, frothy and glittery ones there can be those offering dark challenges  and involving a lot of  pain and suffering.  Yet,  these episodes which somberly decorate the landscape of our life's path ARE adventures too.......just of a different kind.   And, of course, if you have been hanging around me for any length of time you know that I am going to add the fact that they always have the most precious  lessons attached, whether we are ready to learn them or not.

Today's lesson:  NO GOOD DEED GOES  UNPUNISHED !

(I thought I already knew that......sob......how many more times, Lois?)
                                                                           

For instance, many of you may be aware that I recently defied my sensible side (I don't know about  you other Astro signs, but Gemini's have 2 opposing halves, one may be  sweet, civilized and sensible while the other is raucous, uncouth, unmanageable, occasionally dangerous to one's self and others  and quite obviously Batshit Crazy (thanks, Mary Moon)........well, as I was saying, one day 2 weeks ago when I wasn't paying attention I seem to have  allowed myself to adopt  this here new homeless, needy kitty.  Suffice it to say, the very last thing a tottering,schlepedicka  old Cat Lady needs, really, is another cat.   Never mind......that logic belongs in the world of sanity wherein I obviously no longer dwell.

Having spent the past 2 weeks rushing around closing some cats into some rooms while encouraging other cats into different rooms.......then reversing the procedure, juggling innumerable food dishes and kitty boxes into places they have never been  before and shouting useless commands like, "No, no, don't you spit at her!,  Stop growling you silly cat!. I'm telling you, she won't hurt you, why don't you believe me?  (and most importantly)  Lois, now is the perfect moment to commit yourself to the funny farm!?", I am merely a tattered remnant of my former self.

Not only do I find myself  tenderly hand feeding this weak and frail little creature as she lounges in my bed, but I have finally allowed myself to realize that, despite my current somewhat anemic finances, what is really needed here is a trip to the Vet.  And what THAT means, aside from the horror of ending up having to administer the dreaded pills and droppers of liquid meds, is my complete and utter mpoverishment.   Antibiotics, subcutaneous fluids, Xrays, Blood Tests, heat treatments, coldpacks and no doubt psychotherapy........... I see the remains of my vast fortune,which was somehow not totally decimated by all my previous cats, disappearing down the gullet of this little gray waif who, even as we speak, is no doubt waiting impatiently for me to appear and hold under her chin  her 8pm Smoothie  (Friskies' Mixed Grill blended with homemade chicken broth to just the right sipping/lapping consistency).

Lest you think that I exaggerate, I must tell you that I have just returned from Vet Visit #1 clutching the dreaded antibiotic and a receipt for a down payment on the National Debt.  Poor baby has an undetermined infection, a fever over 105 and  was badly dehydrated before receiving subcutaneous fluids and a shot of antibiotics.........................

Does anyone doubt that psychotherapy lurks very far behind?  The question is.......
for whom.....her or me?

Guess Who Is #1 in Guinness Book of Klutzes

It's no contest, really.  (You may THINK you are a bigger klutz than I am, but I don't really want to fight about it so please, just acknowledge my greatness in the klutz department and let's move on). 

I started honing my klutzy skills as a child, dropped out of the race for a number of middle years and now seem to be perfecting my technique in my decrepitude.  I am not bragging about this, you understand, just recognizing and accepting it.

As a child my claim to the title rested on simply falling down a lot,  often from standing on my own foot and then trying to pick up the bottom foot to walk, but also tripping over twigs, pebbles or cracks in the pavement.  When I grew  my great boobs my talents expanded to feats like catching my dress or shirt on the  protruding bolts  holding the ping pong table net in place, thereby rending asunder my garments with great regularity.    Until I learned to allow for the protrusions I hardly owned any clothing which had not been darned or otherwise mended from such encounters, much to my poor Mamma's grief and horror.   

Then when I lost 50 lbs. and stopped bumping into so many things the plague went into a state of remission, I guess.   I remained somewhat accident prone but things took on a much more sophisticated quality as I learned to use tools .......I think the epitome was reached when I managed to nail my finger to the picture frame I was building........lesson: never hold the piece of wood with your fingers behind the place where you are hitting the nail with the hammer.  

It is a small miracle that I survived all those years of using power tools and building stuff while still keeping all fingers and toes and minor limbs attached to my body.  God was good to me and my Guardian Angels must have worked overtime.  . However, after the past few days I think the plague is returning.  I have been behaving like my left foot is attached to my right leg and vice versa.  This is beyond klutzy.  A few days ago I was trying to put on a stretchy velcro knee brace and pulled so hard to stretch the flap that I pulled my foot off the chair it was resting on thereby knocking over the chair and myself in the process.  Only bruises, tenks gott, but very unsettling (no pun intended).

Before continuing I must explain that one of my many weird habits is to keep my purse (very large with 2 carrying straps) on the floor under the dining table where I live for a good part of the day since that is where the laptop resides.)  Consequently, I should at all times be very careful to ensure that it is tucked safely under the table without protruding enticingly to tempt disaster.  Well, of course, I don't, so there have been many awkward encounters, but none as great as last nite when I rose from my chair to let a cat in or out or fetch some delicacy from the kitchen or something and somehow managed to step into the jaws of the purse which then wrapped it's straps around my leg and anchored me to the floor on the left side.  Meanwhile, my right leg was still merrily making it's way to the other room.  Both dining chairs went over in this one and I found myself in my old familiar position of shame.....in a shambles and general state of disarray on the floor with several cats peering down at me with puzzled expressions.  Careful counting elicited the info that I still had all my body parts attached, no one was bleeding and nothing seemed to be broken, sprained or otherwise mangled.  Sigh.  

This is obviously very dangerous and must be solved at once.....migawd I could have fallen on a cat and killed it.  I had better go into the rubber room to ponder..........I love to solve problems, but this one may not be so easy..............


P.S. On another subject entirely:

To my new follower, Shirley, who made me faint with joy when she said she went back and read every one of my blogs (wow) your comment yesterday has no ID so I do not know how to thank you privately......therefore you must endure this public gratitude and/or embarrassment and humiliation......Thank you!


And, while I am on the subject......., to all my dear followers whose affection and loyalty I appreciate and treasure.........thank you , dear ones from the bottom of my heart....you light up my life!