Sammy, Our Cat

Sammy used to belong to my son and his late wife. It was a little helter-skelter watching her as a kitten, for she got lost in the fray most of the time. Our son was off working hard at Intel, while our then DIL was in the process of dying, although no one suspected it. She was on pain pills that eventually destroyed her liver and kidneys, and so a month after her 30th birthday, she went into a coma, and two days later, died.

Sarah is who named Sammy. I would never name a pet Sammy, because so many people use that name. I would have given her a more exotic name. But she answers to Sammy, and so she remains.

Meanwhile, Sarah had two babies to care for. Gregory was two years old on the same day as his mother's birthday. Lily was all of three months old. There was also the dog. And the two parakeets. When we would visit, we marveled at how disgusting and filthy the house always was, and why Sarah always wanted to be asleep on the couch with the tv area walled off so that little Gregory couldn't wander out of her reach. Had we only known, perhaps her life could have been spared. She was a very loving young woman. Nonetheless, we were the ones who saw to it that Sammy was spayed. We always loved that dear little tabby kitten and many times I would see to it that she was fed and supplied with fresh water.

Our son was very eager to find a mother for his half orphaned babies. It wasn't even a year when DIL # 2 entered the scene. She did not want Sammy to live inside, because she and our son brought into the world a new baby.

Cats love warmth and companionship. Poor Sammy had to live outside now. Well, my husband and I chose to ask for Sammy a few months after she'd lived solely outdoors, because our area had a serious stretch of extremely cold and icy weather. It was so treacherous outside the day we drove to get Sammy, that it actually took us two hours to get to what normally takes a half hour, and then with Sammy, back two more hours. And by the request of the law, we were among the very few who had ventured out that stormy night.

It was so worth that journey. Sammy is happy and content and very loving. Although she suffers still, just a wee bit, from the memories of two small children banging on "Kitty", and of course ultimately being stuck outside, alone. Occasionally the dog would be out with her, and she and he did get along, so at least she took comfort in his company.

We spoil her, because we love her. She has, in just over two years, eradicated any trace of the mice that enjoyed creeping about our home. Of course, she did that almost immediately, and she makes sure nary a one creeps back!

We bought her a lovely, old yellow ware Kitty dish at a very fine antiques venue. I serve her fresh water daily in a pretty, very pale blue, Fire King dish. And we keep dry food available to her at all times. You can sort of see her catnip mouse next to it.

Sammy says Meow, prrrrrr....

Pretty Pictures from Victorian Days

This beauty is an embroidered and appliqué piece from the early 1800's. I found it at The Oregon City Antique Mall a couple years ago. That mall closed down, but in a couple months the same building will become The Oregon Mall right here in Oregon City, just one block from my home. Mind you, we are the virtual end of The Oregon Trail.

Below is an amazingly gorgeous French picture where the clothing is beautifully sewn onto the picture. I happily found this one at an incredible estate sale in Portland's beautiful Laurelhurst neighborhood, many years ago.

Another found treasure at The Oregon City Antique Mall. This piece is a beautiful photograph right on the glass.

Below is a wonderful piece of petit point embroidery. I found this one at an estate sale.

And now on to my criss cross frames; that is, some of them. I love, love, love criss cross frames, and cannot resist buying them. I once said I do not really collect anything per se, but alas, it appears that I do, in fact, seem to collect criss cross frames. These are a mere handful of them.

My Dear Writer Gregory

My husband, Gregory, was recently interviewed by the distinguished website, Colonial Sense, which is known as "The Web Site for All Things Colonial."

Please click here if you wish to read his charming interview.

Happy Valentine's Day, Everyone!

I was delighted when this lovely creation of Cathy Jackson of Hazelruthe's fame, arrived in my mailbox the other day. This is a Valentine's Gift from her to me, and I love it! Thank you so much Cathy, for this wonderful paper shoe that is so beautifully embellished in ribbon and glitter and a beautiful pearl. And yum to all of those delicious chocolates that filled the shoe! The sweet paper heart Valentine just tops it!

You may want to observe the innovative way in which she shipped it. See the red and white plastic box. She mailed it in that! It is one of those plastic containers that come in a bunch at the grocery store. They are throw aways, but each has a fairly long lifetime. This one certainly has traveled well.

Another friend of mine by name of Barbara Meisner, is a dear artist and see the wonderful bookmark she created for me! What a darling Valentine Day gift. I treasure Barbara's artwork because it is all original and perfectly from the heart. Thank you again, dear Barbara!

I so hope that all of you are having a great Valentine's Day too!

February Signs of Spring

Today I went out and snapped a few pictures of some budding greens of spring. The sun shone beautifully against the blue sky and the air was 53 degrees comfortable. I love the Creeping Jenny that covers our stone wall through summer. My neighbor actually used to rip it off! Our first year here I told her that I was horrified that some culprit had done this. She said she did it, because previous neighbors and she do not care for the stone walls being covered in growth out of fear that the greenery will eventually destroy the wall. I told her that I can handle it, and so she respects my love of my Creeping Jenny.

Creeping Jenny

Budding Daffodils

Tiny Iris

Candy Tuft

Rosemary that belongs to a Neighbor's Yard

Same Huge Rosemary Plant

Again, Same Rosemary Plant

Hens

More Hens

Tiny Laurel Blossoms, or so I think they are, but I don't really know.

More Blossoms of Laurel? Just don't know. Judging by the leaves only.

Narcissus? Daffodils?

White bells?

Budding Daffodils

Beatrix Potter's World via a Wonderful Book

I bought this book years ago. I have never stopped enjoying it. Like Tasha Tudor, who admired Beatrix Potter immensely, I too am inspired by this great soul. I hope you will enjoy some of the tidbits I've scanned to share with you on this beautiful day in January.

Her little doll house is so sweet. I wonder if Tasha's doll house wasn't inspired because of Beatrix's doll house. My scanner could not get the entire picture.

What a lovely staircase landing. I enjoy how she incorporated it into her stories.

There it is with the Mother cat standing regally in this lovely spot.

And again, with that old mouse striving to get the rolling pin to his destination.

The three little kittens and mother cat are certainly enjoying this lovely garden.

This is a picture of the actual garden depicted in the above scene.

Moss and Ivy

I just took these pictures from my balcony that is off of my "art room". It's the moss that intrigues me. Living in a rain forested area certainly is richly green all winter, unless we get a sprinkling of snow, of which we have had precious little this year. I've seen one small spray of snowflakes that didn't even stick.

I feed birds and squirrels in my basalt based yard. There is one little squirrel in a feeder right now. Normally there are at least a half dozen of them out and about.

The hummingbirds get fed close to the kitchen window. There is a family with a baby wherein I saw the mother coaxing it along as it cried. Have you ever heard a hummer cry? So cute! It makes a popping sound rather like when you do that thing with your tongue to the roof of your mouth, and then the little darling hummingbird winces a sad little cry. The mother was hovering about 10 feet into the sky. Baby is so happy in this yard, and it has its own feeder, because it alone uses the one in the middle.

The ivy takes over the yard, and now in the state of Oregon we're being implored to remove it as it is dangerous to our forests, but as my yard is not part of the forest, I allow for some of it to remain.

Incidentally, all of those bird houses were made long ago by the wonderful Ludmil Marcov of Willow Nest Farm.

A Poem About The Law of Attraction

I hold it true that thoughts are things;

They’re endowed with bodies and breath and wings;

And that we send them forth to fill

The world with good results or ill.

That which we call our secret thought

Speeds forth to earth’s remotest spot,

Leaving its blessings or its woes,

Like tracks behind it as it goes.

We build our future, thought by thought,

For good or ill, yet know it not,

Yet so the universe was wrought..

Thought is another name for fate;

Choose, then, the destiny and wait,

For love brings love and hate brings hate.

Ella Wheeler Wilcox

1850-1919

Imagination is Key

The following is something I just read in my copy of Law of Success by Napolean Hill, the 21^st century edition, revised and updated.

“The most inspiring poem in all literature was written by Leigh Hunt (1784-1859 while he was a poverty-stricken inmate in an English prison, where he had been unjustly confined because of his advanced views on politics. This poem is entitled “Abou Ben Adhem,“ and it is here reprinted as a reminder that one of the great things each of us may do, in our own imaginations, is to forgive those who have dealt unjustly with us:”

Abou Ben Adhem (may his tribe increase)

Awoke one night from a deep dream of peace

And saw within the moonlight of his room,

Making it rich and like a lily in bloom,

An angel writing in a book of gold,

Exceeding peace had made Ben Adhem bold,

And to the presence in the room he said:

“What writest thou?” –the vision raised its head,

And, with a look made of all sweet accord,

Answered, “The names of those who love the Lord.”

“And is mine one?” said Abou. “Nay, not so,”

Replied the angel. Abou spoke more low,

But cheerily still; and said, “I pray thee, then,

Write me as one that loves his fellow men.”

The angel wrote, and vanished. The next night

It came again, with a great wakening light,

And showed the names whom love of God had blessed.

And, lo! Ben Adhem’s name led all the rest!

"Civilization itself owes its existence to such poets as Leigh Hunt, in whose fertile Imaginations have been pictured the higher and nobler standards of human relationship. “Abou Ben Adhem” is a poem that will never die, thanks to this poet who pictured in his Imagination the hope of an ideal that is constructive.”

I quite agree with Mr. Hill.

Had to share.

Christine