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Fat Old Cat Lady and Pile of Dead Frogs

August 13, 2013

Since I have no idea what to blog about, this seems like as good a time as any to introduce another important person in my life while I process what has happened recently…

My elderly neighbor (who my friends refer to as my Old Boyfriend) has been baking me cakes and bringing me little presents for three days now. The only date I have gone on in the last week is taking OB to the hospital to get his backside scoped. On the way home, he told me that it was the last time he would have to do that, because they only do the procedure every five years. Yes, that’s as awful as it sounds… he’s 92 and doesn’t think he will make it through the next 5 years.   Which really sucks, because OB takes care of my yard and drives the girls to school when it is bitterly cold, in addition to entertaining himself making baked goodies.  This guy and his wife, who passed away 15 years ago, had 6 kids.  Only the ones who were born at home lived.  (That’s another story.) One of them is mentally challenged and she and her also mentally challenged husband live next door to OB, and he makes sure they take their meds and keep their yard nice.  He’s an amazing guy, except for kissing me on the cheek with his teeth out, that I could do without.

Poor old man, he’s pretty upset about the break up with B. As a matter of fact, he is angry, very angry.  Sentences that start with, “When I was a young man…” and “If I was still young…” are common the last few days. OB was a red pill man way back before there was a need for that label, because they were all Man back then.  The guy is sweet as can be and tough as nails all at once.  Back in his day, they used draft horses to bust sod and plant crops.  His first team of horses was given to him at age 9, and he still throws bales of straw around like most men now would toss an empty shoe-box. He was counting on B to take care of me and the girls, but his more immediate concern is that my garden is at B’s house, and we do actually rely on the food from the garden and the eggs from the chickens to stretch our food dollars.  With the weather and the rain, this year’s crop is set to be spectacular.  Maybe I can still convince B to bring the chickens back, but the garden, well that’s another pile of worms.  (Haha, I made a joke! Garden, worms, ahahaha, please laugh)

Which brings me to this: B and his dad belong to another denomination.  Their church is rather large and they have an extensive ministry.  My thought was that I could have one of their “outreach personnel” contact B’s dad and get permission to harvest the produce for use in the school cafeteria or for their meals-on-wheels ministry.  The problem is that the contact person I was connected with is lifelong friends with B’s father.  She called me shameless, and told me that my suggestion was insulting, as she already knew the whole story, and I had no right to make the suggestion because I did not own the property, the would not welcome the donation and regard my offer as “stolen property”.  Let me make clear that I did not tell the whole story, or even part of it.  I simply stated that I had established a garden at the residence of B… and I would no longer be able to tend to it, so I thought the church might like to use the produce.  Wow. I was not prepared for that verbal assault.  So much for my views on Church X.  I genuinely do not want the stuff to go to waste.  I hardly think that makes me a shameless harlot or theif.  (If I go to hell, it won’t be for stealing food that I planted in a garden I tended and that could have been shared with people in need,) Furthermore, I offered to meet with her and discuss the matter in person, but she was explicitly not interested in my side of the “story”.  Seriously, I was rebuked for not wanting food to go to waste.

church lady

Yeah, that IS special!

I have had well-wishes from several people, including a curious message from B’s best friend from high school.  All I have to say is that I would have thought twice about being involved with B if I had talked to his former friend first. but, the sympathy doesn’t stop at chocolate cake from OB, or strange fb messages- even critters are in on it.  My kids’ cat and I have an understanding, I allow the cat to live on my property and buy it food as long as it stays the hell away from me. The kitten was rescued from a tree, and it still goes up into a tree to wait for us if we leave for any appreciable amount of time.  It also follows the kids to the store, the pool, the store and back home again, because it’s apparently part dog in addition to being a tree dweller. In case you don’t know, that is fairly impressive for a semi-feral cat.  When we are home, it lounges on the porch swing, I do not like it, but it is one heck of a hunter, so the cat gets a pass, temporarily, as least.  Last night I was crying on my porch swing and the cat brought me a freshly killed frog and laid it at my feet. She was very proud of herself and sat a few feet out of my reach, purring loudly.  I have heard of kissing a frog and having it turn into a prince, but never a dead one.

frog princeYeah, the cat brought me a dead prince. Yay.

So there we have it, I know I sound like a pessimist now, but I do actually know that the glass is half full. Unfortunately, it’s half full of poison, and if the last few days is any indication, I won’t even have OB around to make me more cak, so at least I wont be FAT. I guess that will make me lonely old cat lady with a porch full of dead frogs and no cake.  No wonder OB is making me cake, I am dangerously close to being bitter…


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  1. Peregrine John permalink

    Huh. Little killer brought you an offering, clearly pleased with herself, when you were visibly distraught (don’t think they don’t know), even though it’s well aware you aren’t the one it bonds with, and you have no interest in the thing. That’s… fascinating. (/Spock Voice) They don’t do that at random, at least in my experience.

  2. Yes, John, the girls take in these strays from time to time and they usually bring offerings of some sort. What is truly “fascinating” about this particular offering is that it was a frog…oh, the symbolism…

  3. Saint Velvet permalink

    I’m so sorry you’re dealing with this, really. A little sisterly advice (unsolicited, because that’s what sisters, and random strangers on the internet, are for) : un-entangle thyself from this mans life. He will either find his way or he won’t, but that part of your life is over. Pray hard and start digging, seeds won’t plant themselves. Fall gardens are better anyway.

  4. Thanks, Velvet. Well stated. Unsolicited advice, sympathy and tough love all appreciated.

  5. You can’t fix Beta, not _even_ LadieSadie. At least not beyond about age 20.

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