On
Friday I had one of those moments of profound exasperation at the absolute
mindless insensitivity of some people, and (if I may state this publicly
without seeming like a complete judgy wench) the idiocy of some people
in the treatment of their dogs. Sigh….
I
needed a few warm, fuzzy feelings to balance the negative energy, so I asked
Facebook friends to post pictures of their pets. Boy howdy, did they ever. If
you were one of those folks, thank you. We can never underestimate the power of
seeing a cute dog or cat or horse or reindeer face (or robot—long story) to
release a bit of oxytocin and calm our troubled hearts.
After
perusing those pics for half an hour, I left the valley and drove to Lake
Arrowhead to do a quick hike then visit my granddaughter and her baby daughter—all
of which enhanced my oxytocin high.
Beyond
that good stuff, I want to take a moment to thank those of you who are regular
readers of my posts. I began this blog in 2009 while I was living in the
wilderness of Mt. Baldy, having adventures with nature and wildlife nearly
every day—while also experiencing many, many rejections of my work written for
commercial purposes (and an occasional sale or two). I wanted to write about
whatever I felt like writing about, with no concern for word count or market
viability. So I began to blog (the first post mentioning how much I loathe the
word “blog”).
At
first, I had a handful of folks who were regular readers willing to skim
through my somewhat provincial if not inane musings. Slowly, as the posts went
out into the world—and I began to write about more pressing issues, such as
race relations in the U.S. and the “Me too” movement—views of my posts
increased from 30 a month to 100 a month and then close to a thousand a month,
which is where the average now hovers.
But
last month was a banner month. I mean, I had a lotta lotta views. The analytics
on Blogger allow me to see what posts people are looking at, so I know what
started the upward trend in views (a post that could be construed as
political), but I was downright shocked when I saw the numbers skyrocket.
Total
number of overall views for June: 9,041. These were not views of the same post;
there were a number of different, er, issue-related posts being viewed. But oh
my goodness, I am humbled and grateful whenever people read my words, be it 5
or 500. This number nearly floored me.
So
thank you, dear Readers, for clicking that link again and again over the months
or years to see what the heck I might have to write about in my rambling,
parentheses-and-dash-infused style. Before you click away from the page, here’s
one more silly rambling offered for your amusement:
Things to do while the oatmeal is cooking:
(Note:
Of course it’s cooking—no packets here, no “instant” for me! Damn right it’s
steel cut (whatever that means), organic, they-take-forever, cholesterol-lowering
oatmeal for this “granola head.”)
Start a load of laundry.
Add “laundry detergent” to the grocery list.
Empty
the dishwasher.
Open
the door for Jenny the Cat to sashay outside and begin her day, warning her not
to bring yet another mouse into the house.
Wash
the dogs’ dishes and Jenny’s dish.
Wash
hands thoroughly.
Stir
the oatmeal.
Catch
the mouse that is now scampering about the living room with Jenny merrily giving
chase (without letting Jenny see you taking him... or her).
Carry
the mouse outside (in an empty oatmeal can) and down the block, depositing
him/her near the ravine (and thus near food, shelter, water).
Stop.
Notice the sunrise as it tops Mt. San Jacinto.
Think
of that one guy who always makes you smile.
Smile.
Return
to the house.
Wash
hands thoroughly.
Stir
the oatmeal.
Encourage
Jenny disingenuously to “keep looking for Mr. Mousie,” pretending it “must be
here somewhere.”
Create
a Facebook post documenting the number of mice Jenny has brought into the house
to play with.
Walk
all the way back to the bedroom to pet Sgt. Thomas Tibbs in his bed and tell
him he is the best boy ever.
Walk
back down the hallway to the den to pet Maya and tell her she is the best girl
ever.
Wash
hands thoroughly.
Stir
the oatmeal.
Add
walnuts.
Grab
the blank page journal used for poems and jot down the lines that came to mind
about that one guy while you were walking back from relocating the mouse.
Turn
off the burner under the oatmeal and add raisins, dried blueberries, banana
slices, cinnamon, and brown sugar.
Stop.
Close your eyes. In one long inhale of this sweet-scented repast, acknowledge
with gratitude the blessings of food, cat, mouse, dogs, dishwasher, washing
machine, sunrises, wild spaces, warm smiles, word gifts… and that one guy.
