DOUBLE TROUBLE

With my energy level back to par, I’ve started spinning again for a woman who sells yarn to yarn shops – hence my delay in getting any blogs done. But it won’t be long before I get organized, I’m sure; and I am enjoying working with the wonderful colors this woman comes up with.
It was last year during the Santa Ana winds, when the early morning sun had stained the sky the color of crushed raspberries that I decided to work out in the backyard on my latest handwork adventure (one of way too many undertakings, I’m afraid). This particular piece is being knitted for the Dulaan Project (www.fireprojects.org – it amazes me that by doing something easy and fun, I might be making someone’s life a little better). The item I’m working on is a child’s turquoise and lavender, knit-from-the-neck-down sweater.
With my bag of knitting gear and my soft wool, I settled onto the swing next to my garden and was immediately greeted by the drifting scent of Rosemary (the perfumed air provided by our cat Skittles as he snooped through the low lying branches of the plant – it seems that cats are always on the lookout for new adventures – too bad their paws are not made to hold knitting needles).
Although my garden takes up a very small area it suits me fine and is easy to care for. Situated at the top of a gully the garden is fairly quiet, considering it’s in a congested neighborhood. And being organic it’s full of bees, ladybugs, butterflies and birds (that is, once I’ve taken our two kitties into the house).
I’ve promised myself that one night I’ll stay awake and find out what leaves tiny, muddy prints around the huge bowl water I leave out for the thirsty creatures who visit the garden during the wee hours. But so far I’ve been too lazy to stay awake beyond my regular bedtime which is early, even by my standards. I suspect the prints are being left by a raccoon; I doubt that the feral cats would leave tracks all over the place (cats being much too proper to tramp through mud). One of the feral cats is a beautiful, slender feline with a very unusual, gray spotted coat and one clipped ear (a sign that some good Samaritan did the responsible thing and had her/him spayed/neutered). And while he (Hubby calls it a she, I refer to it as “he” – consequently it’s called he/she interchangeably by either/both of us) is getting friendlier, there have been days when it seemed terrified to be caught in the yard with Hubby even though Hubby is loaded down with bowls of cat food. For some time Hubby had been complaining that he was spending more time feeding the feral cat than painting and in fact the feral cat was eating as much as Skittles and Sugar (our black and white female) combined. We were both amazed at the amount of cat food that the little guy/gal was packing away until one day when I glanced outside and saw that there were two he/she’s – twins of all things! A perfectly matched pair of beautifully dressed felines – who may/may not be (but probably are) preparing their share of double trouble for our household.

MONEY ISN'T EVERYTHING

A couple of weeks ago my granddaughter accidentally left her purse (containing her cell phone and wallet) in a taxi. Not only did the driver deliver her purse to her house and leave her belongings on the front porch, but inside her purse he’d left her a note. The note said, “I lost my wallet one time and when I got it back it was empty. I didn’t want that to happen to you,” – folded inside the note was a hundred dollar bill!
Wanting to do something nice in return, my granddaughter tracked down the taxi driver but all he wanted was for her to pass on a kindness to someone else.
Her experience reminded me of an incident that took place several years ago when my older sister (not older than the hills – just older than me), a family friend, my mom (who’d be the first to say she is older than the hills – age 92 to be exact) went out to lunch. The car we were in was low to the ground and my sister and I were having a heck of a time getting mom out. As we tugged and pushed on her we started to laugh and the laughing only got worse when my mother starting scolding, “Don’t you girls get me started laughing!” We finally extricated the poor woman (without the use of the Jaws of Life) and went in to lunch.
During the meal I noticed that a man at a table across from us kept glancing in our direction (not that I blamed him – we were still chuckling over mom being stuck in the back of the car). The man was well dressed: black slacks and black silk shirt. But the reason I noticed him was because before he sat down I saw that he had something similar to the receiver of an old fashioned phone hanging from his belt by a long black cord, and I wondered what that was all about. Was he in the restaurant on his lunch break? If so what kind of job required that he carry half a phone dangling from his person?
The man left as we were finishing our meal and when the waitress came to see if we wanted dessert, my sister asked for the check.
“Your check has been taken care of,” the waitress said. Pointing at the table that the man had recently vacated, she added, “The man that was sitting at that table paid for your lunches and said to tell you to have a nice day.”
The four of us were stunned into silence (finally).
“Who is he?” one of us asked.
“I don’t know,” the waitress answered, “he comes in every once in a while,
chooses someone and pays for their meal. And he leaves before anyone can thank him.”
That guy made our day! And not because we got a free meal, but because it’s so
great to be reminded that there are some really nice people sharing our space on the planet.