Coffee for Afternoon Tea and Salad for Supper

I didn't think. I was saving yesterday's coffee for the next day's iced coffee drink and disregarded the fact that the longer it sits, the more acidic coffee becomes.

My GURD acted up because, not only that, I bought one of those delicious (the small one) cheese Danishes that they make in Publix bakery. I had several afternoon teas while the rains came down.

So I cleaned my Keurig which I don't usually use in Summer but decided to make an exception and, in the process, it broke. Wouldn't run at all; would only sputter. So I replaced it. It was one of the originals for home usage, but I didn't buy it until I moved to Tallahassee. Circa 2007, we'll estimate.

While I was out, I loaded myself up on enough salad veggies to make dinner salads for seven nights. (The mixed greens with salmon croquettes were to die for.)

As I wanted to store everything properly for freshness, I overworked the salad spinner. This one that I have always taken apart to clean was the first OXO made and was not meant to be disassembled although I've done it for years. I bought it in the late 1970's. It's cracked, broken, and dead.

Now, I have to run to Brown's before the lettuces give out and get a new spinner (big one this time)which is now made to disassemble and dishwasher safe. I promised myself a different dinner salad every night until the end of August. The Cookbook is entitled Mediterranean Fresh: A Compendium of One-Plate Salad Meals and Mix-and-Match Dressings by Joyce Goldstein. She owned the first Mediterranean style restaurant in San Francisco.

No One Left Behind

Here they are on the very evening of the day we brought the Fab Five home. That's the cardboard box and that's the towel. One kitten is hiding under the rest. They had just stopped shaking.

When I saw the news tonight, the puppy whose leg has been amputated due to his shotgun womb, I naturally thought of that day over four years ago.

There they were in that hot plastic playhouse, doors and windows shut, panting and afraid and shaking and dying.

Lennie Mathews

"Can we keep at least two, Granny?" I had gone to the rescue after Jack and Tom's frantic phone call. "I want this one," Tom picked up the black and white kitten. I'll call him Lennie. L-e-n-n-i-e."  "Yes," I answered.

Jack picked up the kitten who was hissing. "I like this one. He's feisty. I'll name him after me. Jackel." I eventually told the boys the story of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde but that was later. Hyde wasn't named for quite a while. Although, even in the box in the picture above, he is hiding under his brothers.

Dr. Jekyll

"Are you going to keep one, Granny?" Em had already smelled my fingers. The M on his forehead was distinct and beautiful. He was a con-man and a lover-duck sidling up closer and closer to my hand. I held him in my arms and nodded.

Sweet, sweet Em

I looked at the little girl. She was cowering, shaking, peering around, "Meow." She suffers from anxiety, not the brightest candle in the window. Sometimes she chases her tail for what seems like hours. Sometimes she chases around for no reason that I can understand. We would say that she is academically challenged.

Sissy Emma Woodhouse

If there were schools for cats she would fail all her classes, and be bullied, and not asked to the prom. She spends some mornings sitting in a pine straw basket that she has grown out of. Who knows why?

Her body markings are much like Em's. I took her in my arms with Em and named her Emma Woodhouse AKA Sissy. I told Em that he was her twin brother and he should look out for her. He didn't understand.



And there was the tiny little boy hiding under the blanket. Terrified and near death. (He's still the smallest; a sometime nervous wreck, and when he got over hiding anywhere and everywhere, he began to sleep up against my back. Unlike Emma, even with his hangups he is still working on socializing.) He will only eat up high on the kitchen cabinet. I still feed him with a spoon. The other day, my phone rang and I noticed that he was continuing on with his breakfast. A major victory. Also, the toy basket is full. He no longer takes all the toys for himself in his secret lairs.  (Hence, he became Mr. Hyde. I sometimes look for his hiding places. I sometimes find them.)

Mr. Hyde

When I saw the little four month old puppy on the news tonight, it all came flooding back. How can people be so cruel to animals? The dog will be recovering for weeks, but has a long list of people anxious to adopt him. I doubt if they stand a chance to take him home with them. The staff at the animal hospital has first dibs and there's someone at the television station who has volunteered to pay his bill and give him a home.

I felt the same way that sunny day standing in the grass packing kittens into a cardboard box.

"Which one, Granny? Which one is yours?" Tom and Jack were literally jumping up and down.  "Ours," I corrected the boys. "All of them." I smiled. "Can we do that?" "Yes, we can. We can do anything we want to." And so we did.

So I've Moved Over Here. Seriously.

I haven't posted on Petty Gulf Life since Hurricane Florence. Every single thing since then is sitting on the pages of the Facebook. Sorry.

The other day I reinstated my Instagram and Twitter apps. I'm hoping to use the three in a better way. I want to follow some of the people who interest me on Twitter. I don't care anything about Twittering myself.

I want to get the hang of Instagram, too. So far I find its purpose very elusive. And I want to speak in mostly either pictures or those boxes of just a few words on Facebook. I'm writing to about 20 people there. Not a very productive ratio.

Most of my Friends-in-real-life aren't Facebook aficionados. They come on only to share vacations, baptisms, graduations, and so forth. I have family on "See First" as I would hate to miss the news.

Otherwise, the faithful are still arguing politics, looking for lost animals, taking selfies, posting how-to and advice articles, and generally being themselves. I play this game of looking at the posts and guessing to whom it belongs. I have a 95% success rating.

So I'm using this little blurb as an in-between post – or as the Boy Scouts say,  I am"Bridging Over." I understand that Google isn't publishing the blogs to former followers and my once "Circle" since the Google + feature is discontinued.

So if you're reading this, put your email address in the slot if you want to follow along that way. Or stream it in by subscribing. If not,  I'll seee what kind of audience I can find otherwise. Can't be worse than the slim numbers of Facebook "Likes."

I'm going to attach this article to my Facebook Page but probably not any more than this one. Then once a month or so, I will put the blog address there for your convenience. Love to All.