Telling the Truth

connecting the dots of my life

Tag: Smudge

Don’t Hesitate | Mary Oliver

I feel a tug of anguish these days. It’s in the air. It’s in my body. It’s in the newspapers. It’s in deluges of unsolicited email from candidates frantically running for office. On some days I just want to crawl back in bed and do absolutely nothing but hibernate.

On the other hand, I’ve been reading this short poem by Mary Oliver. Given our national and international anguish, plus my current health issues, I can’t say it’s easy to follow her wisdom. Still, I’m doomed if I curl up and shrink to nothingness.

Here’s the poem. I hope you find it as compelling as I do.

Don’t Hesitate

If you suddenly and unexpectedly feel joy,
don’t hesitate. Give in to it. There are plenty
of lives and whole towns destroyed or about
to be. We are not wise, and not very often
kind. And much can never be redeemed.
Still, life has some possibility left. Perhaps this
is its way of fighting back, that sometimes
something happens better than all the riches
or power in the world. It could be anything,
but very likely you notice it in the instant
when love begins. Anyway, that’s often the
case. Anyway, whatever it is, don’t be afraid
of its plenty. Joy is not made to be a crumb.

Thank you from my heart for your visits. I’ve been overwhelmed by how many visitors I’ve been getting in the last several weeks. Especially given my inability to post or visit as often as I would like. Which, of course, has been part of my anguish.

Writing is one of the most challenging and joyful things I do. Sort of like playing the piano or watching birds flocking and fighting around the bird feeders each morning.

Praying we all find space for joy (or even more joy!) in our lives today.

Elouise

© Elouise Renich Fraser, 20 October 2022
Photo of Smudge birdwatching taken by me in September 2022

triumphs and trophies

Smudge Bowl

triumphs and trophies

artfully spaced on his plate–

Smudge the Conqueror!

* * *

poetry in motion

he positions each precious treasure

precisely as he alone imagines it

before bowing his head low

to savor his hard-won

succulent entrée

featuring

feathered pea protein, duck, chicken and assorted fish flavors

compliments of Her Royal Highness

Queen Elouise

~~~

This morning I rediscovered this fun poem. It captures at least some of the frustration and glory of having a meticulous cat. Here’s hoping your day includes a wonderful surprise or two!
Elouise

© Elouise Renich Fraser, 30 June 2014, reposted 20 July 2022
Photo taken by Elouise

birds flutter

birds flutter swoop dive
cat’s jaw quivers, tail twitches—
agony of spring

* * * * *

To Prince Oliver Smudge the Second, aka Smudge:

I hereby dedicate this haiku to Your Royal Catness
with the clear expectation that you will
immediately cease and desist
from all yowls of neglect and outrage.

You say it deeply pains you to watch me day after day
writing only about Me, Myself and I.

To be brutally frank,
I know much more about Me, Myself and I
than I do about the mystery of
Your Inner Being/Inner Cat/Inner Stalker.

HOWEVER

If you read Your Very Own Haiku with an open mind
you will discern therein
just how much I DO appreciate your agony day after day
as all those Nasty Spring Birdies flaunt their freedom in the Great Outdoors.

No.  You may NOT go outside to play today!
I’m No Dummy.

Her Royal Highness,
Queen Elouise

© Elouise Renich Fraser, 3 April 2014, reposted 8 June 2022
Photo taken by ERFraser, 2 March 2022

Good News and three choice photos

Good News! I am not a candidate for the health challenge no one wants to face: hypogammaglobulinemia.

So I’m back to floor exercises to help ease pain in my legs and feet, walking, playing the piano, writing, resting as needed, and eating mostly vegan food on behalf of my heart and kidneys. Peripheral neuropathy and osteoarthritis in my lower spine are more than enough for now. That, plus the reality that the end of my life keeps approaching, one day and night after another.

Just for fun, above and below are three recent photos of Christmas cheer and Smudge. D took the photo at the top; I took the rest with my iPad. Am I besotted with Smudge? Yes, indeed! Especially when he’s behaving well.

Checking out the Costco box

Drowsy on our heated waterbed

Cheers to each of you!
Elouise

© Elouise Renich Fraser, 2 February 2022
Top photo taken by DAFraser; photos of Smudge taken by ERFraser

Knackered Friday?

One of my all-time favorite posts! I know it isn’t Friday, but it’s coming!!!

Are you knackered? This great word comes from England, Scotland, Wales, Ireland, Australia and beyond. Here are several visual definitions included for the benefit of all who are too knackered to read on.

First, a photo of Smudge (above), taken several days after he was rescued dripping wet, voracious and exhausted, by our granddaughters and their mother. Knackered. As in all tuckered out.

Here are four other helpful overviews, thanks to Google,
beginning with my personal favorite:

And three more, in case you need further insight:

Me either!

Here’s to an unknackered weekend!
With sincere apologies to my many friends
who know far more and better
than I do about knackered.

Dare I ask: Are you knackered? Feel free to share your experiences!
Or not.

***

© Elouise Renich Fraser, 28 April 2017, reposted 7 October 2021
Photo/Image credits:
Megan Naugle Fraser, Smudge, taken 11 August 2013
Knackered Mom: doodlemum.files.wordpress.com
Knackered Dog: memesuper.com
Knackered Cat: tumblr.com
Knackered Relaxing Oat Bath Milk: fieldandstyle.com

Response to WordPress Daily Prompt: Knackered

A Lament and a Catbird

Whatever falls from
My tongue daily betrays
My sad acknowledgement
Of growing limitations
And disinterest in
Keeping up with the latest
So-called improvements
Intended to make writing
A joy a bliss or even an ecstasy
Beyond knowing or understanding

Which would be my current
Problem precisely to a T –
Not knowing and not understanding
And beyond that not interested
in finding out how to navigate
the avalanche of ever so
unhelpful changes now multiplying
like lantern-flies or cicadas or
voracious ants or even Smudge’s
daily attempts to cool his body
via white-fur dumps everywhere

No, I’m not going crazy. I’m fed up with the pace of changes. Yes, I have a live-in expert who remembers everything. His on-line name is D. However, he is not paid nearly enough to save me from my own ineptitude.

Here’s reality in a nutshell: I am a writer. I love being a writer. Nothing makes me happier these days than letting what’s inside make its way onto the page and then sharing it with you.

My favorite thing yesterday was watching our back-yard catbird ecstatically splashing in the birdbath, throwing water up into the air with his wings, and catching the drops as they fell on his hot little body. I witnessed three such episodes. I also got a dose of his scolding call when I was cleaning and refilling his lovely little bathtub!

Praying today brings joy in the midst of everyday frustrations.
Elouise

© Elouise Renich Fraser, 14 July 2021
Photo of catbird bathing found at thebackyardnaturalist.com

There’s a chill in the air

There’s a chill in the air
Along the road that leads me
home to the river

Raucous jays and crows
Scream at each other
Without a message that matters

Noisy cars take the quickest
Route to the freeway
Fuming their way through lazy detours

Happiness isn’t on the rise
Neither is patience or understanding
Or ears willing to stop and listen

Still, my heart is at peace
Knowing my end is sooner
Rather than later

Body and heart melt with relief
Releasing things I no longer need
To prove that I was here

I’m not there yet. I am, however, shifting gears yet again. Letting go of things that weigh me down. Things like more books, more unused kitchen utensils, more old clothes, and (especially) the amount I can do in any one day.

My health is (so I’m told) excellent “for my age.” A loaded message, indeed. My feet would not agree with this cheery news. Still, I don’t have any reason to complain—except when I’ve done myself in or feel particularly lonely. A strange experience for an introvert.

The photo at the top, taken this morning, has nothing to do with this post. Except for this.

Every day of his relatively short cat-life, Smudge just keeps going. Purring. Practicing his ‘race up the stairs and tear around the corner in hunt mode’ moves. Playing in a favorite cardboard box. Sitting on my lap asleep, or stretching out on our bed for a midday snooze.

I want to be so carefree and generally kindhearted, no matter how much I get done. How about you?

Thanks for stopping by!
Elouise

© Elouise Renich Fraser, 12 May 2021
Photo of Smudge taken by ERFraser, 12 May 2021

empty bird feeder, a cat and Mr. T

the bird feeder swings
empty in morning sunshine
a cat sleeps soundly

~~~

What will this auspicious day tell us
about ourselves
or will it all be about Mr. Trump
whose dis-fortune has waxed eloquent
in decades and years past

Some may wish to disappear
Just withhold needed food
And we will all surely starve
From our homemade C-19 stew
Without a roadmap or remedy in sight

There’s nothing so naked
As hanging out in the public eye
Bereft of sustenance
Without a plan
And without a leader

The saddest part is that no matter who wins this election, Mr. Trump still has over two months in office.

Thank you for your visits during this year of Covid-19 and Black Lives Matter. I can’t tell you how life-giving it has been to write and post my thoughts. Today I’m feeling worn out. Not yet ready for whatever comes next.

For now, I’m going to cook, walk, enjoy the sunshine, listen to music, play with Smudge, and maybe even play the piano.
Elouise

© Elouise Renich Fraser, 3 November 2020
Photo of Smudge taken by ERFraser, 2014

It’s Monday morning!

Coming in for a landing
jostling for space
grabbing the prize
and gobbling it down
or flitting away to
a private dining room
in the brilliant maple tree
they swarm like bees

Red-bellied woodpeckers
hairy and downy woodpeckers
an occasional flicker
house finches and sparrows
tufted titmice and chickadees
red-bellied nuthatches
and plain black and white nuthatches
red cardinals and reddish-brown mamas
plus uncertain adolescents
interrupted occasionally
by raucous blue jays jumping
up and down and all over
our squirrel-proof birdfeeder

I wanted to come upstairs
and write a letter to you
but the birds kept calling out
with their happy dances plus
indiscriminate pooping on the porch rail
while Smudge slept soundly
on his special rocking chair
in the living room
resting from his nighttime
take-down of a baby cricket

It’s Monday morning
and I’m feeling rather frisky
and just a bit bold if not brave
Autumn is the most poignant
season of all with its nonstop
invitation to dance as leaves
flutter to the ground sparkling
with golden glory next to cast-off
pods from birdseed plus the other
stuff too all over the place
like a spatter paint job on
porch and lawn feeding the aging
grass with free fertilizer from above

A bit of nonsense, and a prayer that your week will be full of unexpected surprises of the good kind. Happy Monday, no matter what!

Elouise

© Elouise Renich Fraser, 19 October 2020
Photo of female Red-Bellied Woodpecker found at pilotonline.com

She sights a Bird — | Emily Dickinson

Here’s a fun Emily Dickinson poem written early in her poetic career. My brief comment follows.

She sights a Bird — she chuckles —
She flattens — then she crawls —
She runs without the look of feet —
Her eyes increase to Balls —

Her Jaws stir — twitching — hungry —
Her Teeth can hardly stand —
She leaps, but Robin leaped the first —
Ah, Pussy, of the Sand,

The Hopes so juicy ripening —
You almost bathed your Tongue —
When Bliss disclosed a hundred Toes —
And fled with every one —

© Emily Dickinson, #507
Found at wikisource.org

Reading this is a hoot. An almost perfect picture of our housecat Smudge (above) stalking a mouse or cricket. I love the part about running “without the look of feet.” To which I might add (having watched Smudge stalk prey), not a single muscle ripples through his furry coat. Not even one toenail clicks on the floor. Not a whimper of excitement gives him away. All antennae are 100% engaged, even though this takes hours, not minutes.

Perhaps the excitement is the chase and stalk. This could be unnerving for an outdoor cat. Regardless, the excitement of the hunt seems as wondrous as actually catching prey. Patience is called for. Many times. Plus persistence.

So here our Pussy of the Sand glides silently in on his prey, already salivating with anticipation and high on adrenalin. Followed by nothing to show for it but Robin’s hundred Toes, all present and accounted for, disappearing into thin air.

Wishing you a Happy Friday!
Elouise and Smudge♥♥

© Elouise Renich Fraser, 20 March 2020
Smudge in Kitchen Window taken by ERFraser, March 2019
Photo of outdoor cat found at i1.wp.com

%d bloggers like this: