Meet Jewel...

I'm not as bad as Leesa and Amy. I just got one cat. One 1-yr-old cat. She was a stray who had kittens in my daughter's house this summer, and the neighbor started feeding her but kept her outside. And had her fixed and got her shots and taken care of for fleas. So she really was a free cat. Isn't she beautiful?

Within minutes of coming into my house (after weeks of deciding if I could make an outdoor cat stay indoors), she was in my lap purring loudly, on her back, belly up, taking a nap. Never saw a cat do that. So well adapted to her surroundings so quickly. She is the sweetest cat I have ever met. Her purr is very loud, and yet her purr is demure. She even slept with me from the first night at the bottom of the bed on the sheet I provided. I have become one of those cat ladies who talks to her cat. I promise to keep the posts about her to a minimum. Oh, who am I kidding???

Yes, I am allergic, but I know how to manage things as an adult. (Don't put my face in their fur would be the first step.) She snuzzles and follows me around the house in the morning when I get ready for work. She has no ambition to run away which I feared she would since she has never lived indoors. I really believe she is relieved not to have to fight the street traffic any more.

And she used the kitty litter box immediately.

And because she is the sweetest cat I have ever met, I have named her after my favorite teacher who was the sweetest person I ever knew. Mrs. Helen Jewel Brakke. So I have named my new kitty Jewel. Not like the gem stone Jewel, but after Mrs. Brakke.

The Owl and the Pussy-cat went to sea
In a beautiful pea green boat,
They took some honey, and plenty of money,
Wrapped up in a five pound note.
The Owl looked up to the stars above,
And sang to a small guitar,
'O lovely Pussy! O Pussy my love,
What a beautiful Pussy you are,
You are, you are!
What a beautiful Pussy you are!'

Edward Lear
(1812-1888)

Could this be considered an anniversary?

2 years ago today I packed up my things, or what could fit in my car and my sister's car, and left. I had told my husband the month before that it was over. After 26 years of marriage, it was over. And as he sat in shock (although I reminded him that he couldn't possibly be shocked, really), I went about packing up and moving on. If you've been a "fan," you know I took a road trip to Montana for a week with a blogger friend watching the house and pets of another blogger friend. Somehow they knew back in June that I needed something to cling to, something to put some umph in my life. Little did they know and little did I know that it was more than just a road trip to Montana.


Last month my dear Pam who, by marriage, has the same last name as I do so we consider ourselves sisters not only by name but by a common bond that you gain from reading blogs and then driving 15 hrs one way and spending a week in the mountains of Montana. She and her lovely husband, 4 dogs, and 3 cats moved across the country to Vermont and took the time to stop in Missouri to see me. I sure hope you notice that together we have lost enough weight to make another adult, and damn, we look good. A lot has happened in 2 years, but we promise not to let so much time pass before we see each other again. That means I will be visiting Vermont one day since she has already seen Missouri. Now say a special prayer for her Gracie since she (and Hank) got hit by a car the other day. One broken leg and one amputated leg later and Gracie is home to recuperate but could use the good positive thoughts.

So how do I feel 2 years after walking out? I am in my own place with my own couch and my own mattress (since my ex never returned my mattress as deigned by the divorce decree) and a sea 'o boxes. There I go with the water images! As of last weekend, I started unpacking some of those boxes. I have been living as a nomad for 2 years now and finally came to grips with questions such as "Do I belong here?" "Will I be staying?" "Where is my home?" "Do I deserve to be happy?" I am learning to live in my own skin and call this place home. I think I've come a long way, esp since this summer when you saw me at my very worst.

I am very fortunate to have a job at the university, and while it may not be challenging per se, I am having to learn a lot of new things which does challenge me. I have come to the conclusion that while I hate numbers and accounting, I am so regretful that I didn't or, rather, couldn't have majored in something more profitable. I resent that the numbers people in the world make all the money while those of us who know the placement of a comma and an apostrophe are swept by the wayside. But as much training as I have undergone in that area, I have discovered that not only do I not have the brains for accounting (vouchers, POs, MoCodes), I also DON'T CARE. I hear Charlie Brown's teacher every time they open their mouths to explain another procedure. God, accountants are boring. (Sorry if I have offended anyone out there.) I love my new place and am so grateful for those friends who have helped me move and set up the place, but I can barely afford it along with my car payment and sit still so nothing major happens. (I haven't decided whether to buy or rent in the future with my share of the equity.) But it's a start. My new cell phone has a pedometer, and I am fascinated by how many steps I can take on purpose and accidentally. I am trying to get 2 to 3 miles in a day walking around campus. After all, I work on one of most beautiful campuses anywhere. I have joined a choir with one performance already done and another coming up next month. This was something I had promised myself last year when I moved here but never did it because I never wanted to put roots down here if I was going to move soon.

Well, we all know that didn't happen and isn't going to happen. And I am fine with that. Matter of fact, I am glad I am here. I have volunteered for Planned Parenthood (my old employer). I am making new friends. I am enjoying being single. It's been 2 long years or I can't believe it's gone so quickly. Thanks for coming along for the ride.