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Showing posts from September, 2013

Overrun by Isabella

This is a short story about how Isabella became part of our lives ... and the namesake for my blog...
Let me tell you a little story.  It all started on an especially chilly December day, almost four years ago.  Two months earlier, we had lost our old, chocolate girl.  She had been troubled with bad hips and as time passed, developed arthritis making movement a difficult and painful process.  At last, it was Awbrey’s time to leave this life, having tracked all over our hearts.
Quiet rainy days of October and November set in, echoing the sentiment of our hearts, empty.  Oh, we knew we would find a new Labby that would thrill and delight us, but we were coming into the Holidays…not the ideal time to get a new puppy.  Logic and reason spoke “wait until after Christmas when the whirl settles down.”  Still, we watched the paper, assorted internet sites and even visited a few kennels to merely "look" at puppies.  But, none of them grabbed our attention or tugged at our emotions.

You Pole Cat!

Portland is home to many reclaim, re-utilize and refurbish, up-cycle, recycle shops.  One in particular has become a favorite haunt.  I’m always amazed at the creativity of people; taking what would have been thrown into the landfill and turned into pieces of art and function, totally repurposed.
One particular rainy day we were scouring our way through one such urban establishment and came across this “Pole Cat” sign.  With just a few well-chosen words, the cranky codger has passed on some sage advice.  (I may be stretching a few things, so with tongue in cheek, here goes….)
If you must chew snuff, (side note: nasty habit) have the common courtesy to not spit it in the drinking fountain.  Others use it and they really don’t want to see your unsophisticated practice floating around.  Next, don’t you know that stuff will clog the drain?  “Where has commonsense gone?” which is the essence of what this old guy is stating. 
pole-cat:  meat eating member of the weasel family with a foul odor

To be a published writer...

Being a person travelling through life, you find the way is not always filled with straight paths and clearly marked road signs.  Usually, there winding roads, a few valleys and mountain passes, even a detour or two to negotiate before you reach just one of the dots on the map.
This past spring, I registered for a creative writing class.  And then re-registered for the summer term and now signed up once again for fall; following a path to…? 
Our instructor encourages us to write, be imaginative and think outside the norm.  She also suggested we submit pieces of our work to Oasis Journal; a publication for writers over 50.  Yes, I do have to publicly admit that I am over the half century mark, but that’s okay.  I’m one of the youngest in the class, yet find myself being tremendously inspired by the others.  They have gleaned so much for their years of living and traversing through life. 
To get back on track…I submitted a couple of stories and a handful of poems to Oasis.  About a week …

The Writing on the Wall