Archive for 2008

My Cat and I Meet a Leprachaun

Wednesday, July 30th, 2008

Sparkle, my small, short-haired gray cat, is looking at me with her big golden eyes. ‘Something is wrong,’ she says.

“What is it, Sparkle?”

She walks toward me and I notice her left, hind leg is out to the side and she can’t put any pressure on it.

“Oh, no! What happened, Sparkle?”

Sparkle just looks at me.

It is 6PM and I have been gone all day. What happened while I was gone from home?

I lift her up and tuck her against my chest.
“Tomorrow”, I tell her, “we go to the vet.”

After a restless night with Sparkle snuggled with me under the covers, tomorrow comes and I get an appointment with the vet for later in the day.

At 2PM, I haul out the cardboard cat carrier. Sparkle looks alarmed. I explain where we are going and Sparkle says, ‘no.’

I grab her up and nustle her into the carrier. She leaps for the exit as I push down the cardboard flaps and top. Her head is out. I push it down. Her head pops out. I push it down. Dang. The flaps won’t hold. There is a massive struggle with Sparkle, me and the box. Finally, I give up.

Sparkle runs free and I’m out to the garage to get the giant, heavy plastic and steel pet carrier.

I rinse it off on the lawn, brush off the spiders, their webs and leaves and tuck in a towel.

I drag the monstrous contraption to the house. This won’t be an easy catch and collect.

Sparkle is waiting for me in the house. She’s a good cat. She never bites or scratches or yowls,no matter how much provocation. When my small grandchildren love her way too much, she just relaxes and lets them drag her from room to room.
She’s the type that would wear a bonnet and trousers if that would make you happy.

Sparkle is looking at me. I open the rusted metal fence like door to the carrier. Sparkle lets me pick her up and being careful of her leg, I push her through the door.

No, wait, what I mean is, I try and push her through the door. Her body seems to expand sideways and her claws grab the metal screen. I shake her off. We try, again. Back and forth, back and forth. A silent battle. I’m pushing, she’s resisting. I get her part way in, she gets out. For a cat with an injured leg, she has enormous energy.

I’m sweating. We’re going to miss the vet appointment! With strength pushed by desperation I shove Sparkle into the carrier.
She swears at me! She has never, ever sworn at me. It is a great hissing sound that sounds like “shiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiit!”
Of course, I did shut her tail in the door.

Here is where we meet the leprechaun.
He is at the vet’s office and he is the new vet.
He bounds into the small room where Sparkle and I are waiting. He’s a little, bitty leprechaun who’s maybe 60 in earth terms? He’s tiny and wiry and Irish. He bounces and leaps and chatters rapidly. Both Sparkle and I are transfixed.

He calls Sparkle, ‘Punkin.’

“Here we go, Punkin!” he says as he slips a thermometer up her rear end. Boy, is she surprised.

It’s “OK, Punkin, this and OK Punkin, that.”

Then I realize the leprechaun is also calling me Punkin!

“OK, Punkin, ” he says to me in due course, “it doesn’t look serious. No broken bones. I’ll give her an antibiotic shot and give you some pain meds to give her and you both can be on your way.”

“And Punkin,” he adds, “may be a little tired from the pain meds so just let her sleep. If she wobbles and falls over, flap on the floor, don’t give her quite so much.”

Sparkle and I look at each other.

“So, Punkin, if you need to come back, just give me a call and I’ll be right here.”

With that, Dr. Leprechaun darts out the door, and his tiny little head doesn’t even show from the other side, through the window in it.

I look at Sparkle and she looks at me. Normally, I get so upset when I take an animal to the vet that I get the runs. I’m realizing now that I’ve had such an interesting time with the Leprechaun that I haven’t had to make a bathroom run. Maybe the Leprechaun has cured me, too?

There is another enormous struggle to get ‘Punkin’ into the carrier but at last we are loaded up, paid up and we take off.
On the way home, I ask Sparkle, “Well, would you like me to give you a hearty dose of those pain meds and we can watch you fall over, flap on your side on the floor?”

She doesn’t think so. She says I should slip them to my friend Bill who lives in my Studio and watch him fall over fraaawph! on his side on the floor. We agree that might be fun.
We’ll let ya’ know….

1. Magnetic Electricity-A Life Saver,” by Ina Bryant. 1977, Kingsport Press. This may be out of print. Try Devorss Publications.

2. My IBS Cure: Flax Seeds. I use the toasted ones, just for the flavor. 1 heaping Tbls in a tea cup. Bring water to a boil and pour over the seeds in the cup as if you were making a tea. Put a saucer on it and let it sit overnight, or all day. Then drink the water off it, and chew up and eat the seeds.Works almost immediately for me when I have symptoms. You might want to drink/eat this, every day.

3. Anti-Aging and for Sports ( builds muscle, strength, speed, etc.) I have been taking these products for 6 1/2 years. You would be shocked at the Top (very Top!) athletes who take these products. And, once again, just today, my facialist remarked on my ‘beautiful, beautiful, beautiful neck!” She tells me it is a remarkable neck.
Well. We take compliments where we can, right? Maybe it’s these products…….

4. The Magical Herbal Tea that does so much. I used to work as an herbalist and I drink this herbal tea twice a day. retail wholesale

***WINNER OF THE RANDOM DRAWING FOR A FREE 15 MINUTE PHONE SESSION WITH VENUS: *Jackie Mathis* Offer good through Thursday July 31st, 2008. After that, null and void.


Saturday, July 26th, 2008

These beautiful green rock earrings are hanging off my ear lobes. I’m trying them on in a very fancy, upscale clothing store in Del Mar, California.

I have whipped down the mountain today to get some errands done and have come to a Center where I used to spend a lot of time, when I lived at the Coast.

My friend Markay is here! I went to grammer and high school with Markay and her sister Lancey. Lancey is one of the ‘girls’ I vacation with every year.

Markay and I are laughing and marveling because the last time I was in this store, about a year ago, Markay was here, too.

Markay lives aways up the coast. She rents some rooms in a castle and has jewelry trunk shows all over the world. That’s why she is here, today. She is having another showing of beautiful art jewelry at this shop by the sea.

She holds my hand close to her, tucked under her arm, and we chat. She is one of the most loving people I have ever known, as is her sister, Lancey. Today, Markay’s great love and warmth of spirit holds me close. I feel loved and delighted.

The lady who owns the store is warm and friendly. The three of us are chatting with a customer who is trying on blouses and beautiful shirts. The lady is about forty-five, pretty and blonde. She looks good in everything.

The four of us are laughing and cutting up and acting like none of us have a worry or a care.
The customer, runs in and out of the dressing room, showing us her various choices and asking our opinions.

She comes out now in a sparkley lavender patterned top and asks if we think it is too tight. We do. The owner of the shop suggests she try a size up.

I call after the blonde lady as she takes the new blouse to the dressing room, “Oh, that’s what happens to ladies like us who have these big breasts!”

She turns and looks at us and says, “Oh, these aren’t mine. I had a double mastectomy. These are just inserts.”

Markey, the shop owner and I are momentarily left without words. Then, I say, “Golly. Do you have different sizes? Can you mix and match?”

We’re all laughing, again, thank goodness, and the lady grins and says, “As a matter of fact, I do!”

I’m thinking, ‘This lady has made lemonade.’ I am referring to the saying that says, ‘if life hands you lemons, make lemonade.’

Such a lovely lady and obviously rich in many ways and here she has been through this trauma in her life and still deals with it, wondering at any eventual outcome.

Once again, I am reminded that we all can look at others with envy and distaste but it’s really not a good idea. Not just you and me, but everyone has their secret sorrows.

I am going to remember this pretty lady and her sorrow and blow kisses and love to all the people I see tomorrow, and wish them all well, and hold their hands and circle them with love, like Markay did for me, today.
A testimonal about the anti-aging product I have been using for 6 1/2 years:
Al is a long time friend of mine, about 60, who was visiting my town, from Montana.
My friend Bill and I took him out to lunch.
Al is very excited about these products and had just signed up to take them and get them out to other people.
He was meeting Bill for the first time and we were all having fun as we sat at a table in a Mexican restaurant.
I had been regaling Al with testimonials from people who are growing hair, losing wrinkles, losing fat around their waists and gut, hair color reverting to natural, muscles lifting the face up and turkey waddle necks disappearing….
At one point, Al looked across the table at Bill and said mildly and with out any gile whatsoever, “These products will be a good test for someone with a face like yours.”
I am still laughing.
To check it out go to: and
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Grasping Love Brings Heartache

Friday, July 18th, 2008

We’re at our Art Class when Regina puts down her paint brush, tucks some brown hair behind her ear, looks at me and says, “I have to dump my boyfriend.”

Carol, who is doggedly painting some flowers, doesn’t hear Regina, because eighty-year old Carol can’t hear too well.
About ten minutes ago Regina had mentioned that The Boyfriend was taking her tonight to see The Pageants of the Masters in Laguna Beach and Carol said, “What? You’re going to be on a mattress, tonight?”

Stan, Regina and I laughed and Regina, said, “Ah..yes…I guess I will be on a mattress, tonight.”

I said, “I’m jealous.”

Regina is the woman who’s husband died about two years ago, at fifty, from colon cancer. As you recall, his illness and death traumatized all of us.

Regina has since been valiantly putting herself out into the world, remodeling her house, keeping her mind busy and living life.

When she tells me she is going to dump her boyfriend, our teacher, Stan, is out of the room. It’s best that way as he gets upset about these kinds of announcements.

“So,” I ask, “why are you going to dump him?”

“Because he is suffocating me!” Regina says, with fervor. “He calls me three times a day and he emails me and he wants to be with me every day and he says he’s in love with me and he has only known me a couple of months!”

“Oh, I get it,” I say. “A girl I know who is only nineteen just said the same thing to me. She said her boyfriend calls many times a day and when she sees his number on the phone she makes a bad face and thinks, ‘Man!! I just talked to you, what more could you possibly have to say!’

“I told her that her feelings about his calls are not a good indicator of the beauty and endurance of their relationship.”

Regina heaves a big sigh and slaps her illustration pad on the table top.

“This guy was married for thirty-six years and his wife died and then he takes up with me. He has only been with two women in his life. I want time to myself, and I want to be with my women friends. I tell him this and to back off, but he just won’t. He’s ruining everything.”

I mumble my understanding of her feelings.

“I said to him, ‘Can’t we just be friends, with benefits?’ He said ‘no’ that wouldn’t work. So, it’s all or nothing. The thing is, he’s not ready for me or any woman. He is still grieving his wife. Whenever I do something he says, ‘my wife wouldn’t have done it like that.’

“So what are you going to do, Regina?”

She says she is going to end it, tonight.

Which is very sad, I think. The poor man just doesn’t know that women…just like men…don’t want to be suffocated in a relationship. Everybody needs their space and a bit of mystery and uncertainty about the beloved often keeps things hopping.

I’m thinking of a hair dresser I know, named ‘Sally’. She complains all the time about her rich and loving boyfriend in Canada. He wants to marry her and take her out of California and away from her work and all her family and friends. He demands that she do it his way and that she can have a life of ease if she does. He gives her no other options.

‘Sally’ has been telling everyone that she can’t do it his way, that he is over-bearing, that he is stifling her and that she is going to have to get rid of him.

What happens? He dumps her, first! He calls and says, ‘This Isn’t Working. Let’s just live separate lives for four months. Don’t contact me. Let’s see how it goes.’

‘What happens’ is now ‘Sally’ is crying all day and all night and wailing that this former beast is the Love of Her Heart and that she can’t live without him. She is so steeped in suffering that she can barely cut hair and her voice is raspy from all the moaning and crying she has been doing.

Ummm. Is Love totally not rational? Does it have to be like this?

Ladies and Gentlemen, here’s an idea. Let’s tuck our insecurities away for awhile, put our grasping claws in our pockets and give each other: freedom, mystery, a bit of uncertainty along with the Love…. and see what happens?
*Please note the following two messages, including the winner of the drawing. Thank you*

1. If you have not been able to receive the FEED to automatically get my blog, a listener and friend of mine has this advice for you: “my feed (for your blog) is automatically sent to my norton anti-spam filter, so I have to check that every day as well as my inbox.”
Another suggestion is to try a different email address.

*Vanessa Allred. Offer good from July 18th through July 20th, 2008. Null and void after that.

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