Things to do today

  1.  Cat:   a) Medicate b)call in for refills c) feed  d)make appointment for a sonogram.   Sounds simple enough, right?  One week of poking stuff down her throat, it is no small feat with a cat of whom 3 people are needed to clip her claws.  She stopped eating on her own a week ago; now we are using an urgent care food forced into her mouth with a syringe.  The way my Tabatha aka Toots aka Sweet Pea II  fights, there is going to be another load of laundry to do as a result of the drama.  She and her sister rescued us after we lost our Maine Coon, Buster aka Bud aka My Boy lost his short life to cancer.  Toots deserves the best we can give her. That includes the sonogram although her $300 blood test came back in the normal ranges and her mouth (where many problems start) indicate the need for feline dentistry.  One whiff of her breath assures me my intuition should not be ignored.  But I’m not the Veterinarian, just the one paying the bill.
  2.   Plants:   They need repotting so they can thrive and provide the herbal remedy they are intended for.  That is all I’m going to say about that.
  3. Be here for the internet Technician coming to fix our intermittent internet outage.  If the issue is not that of the ISP,  its the modem.  Another intuitive/work experience guess that is going to cost.  I’m a woman and not male so the willingness to be listened to is equivalent to nil.  I’d best not get started on that diatribe…
  4.  Send you a ps.  to the ps. email I sent last night.  When the internet is “fixed” again.

I’m going to do the ps., skipping over #2 and 3.  I often write when the muse pushes me.  Today I feel like I’m being propelled to do ps. by the muse driving a steam roller.

More than once in the past week I have read and heard the philosophical thought  it is truly virtuous  to do something good yet not advertise the effort.  There is something I believe you may be worthy of knowing as it only involves myself on a minor level.

My late father-in-law built a family cabin so his children and grandchildren and on and on would have a nice place to go to in the mountains of Colorado.  I am married to the youngest of his children, the one he designated as Custodian (which has been confused to mean Janitor, handyman).  The title was meant as someone to oversee its use and care.  When I fell in love with him, I fell just as deeply for the ideal of the cabin, a family place, the  inclusive idea of family.  My siblings have ‘dissed’ me, and why I have given the place 110%, the idea I might be welcomed into his family.

My own father did the best he could leaving a small inheritance with the rental properties he built,  not leaving any debt for us to cover.

Built by hand, by their own hands.  Something the two men have in common aside that the youngest of their children are married to one another.  Oak, my late father-in-law, made a record of the cabin’s progress in photographs.  The pictures are in a photo book at the cabin which seems only to collect dust.  A dear friend of ours came up to the place last weekend and she too, fell in love with the place.  Rand, my husband, showed her the photos and told their stories of how Oak put the place together.  Oak was a retired Air Force Colonel who worked at a hardware/lumber store to fund its construction so his children would not be burdened with any debt.  It is a place outfitted as best described as eclectic.  Somethings have been replaced such as the mattresses dating back to who knows how far back but long enough some of his descendants chose to sleep on the floor instead of those awful beds.

Oak built the cabin in two locations: on its site and in his backyard.  He prefabbed structural components, took them apart and then drove the pieces and parts uphill 50 miles to put them back together permanently. Oak’s brother Paul helped out too, because that what those brothers did.   Rand was a teenager during the process and was more than happy to help out.  My husband has been infatuated with Architecture and construction since he was knee high to a toadstool.  When other siblings showed they were put off at their dad’s insistence they lend a hand to its completion, maintenance. They felt it was their entitlement to simply chill.  They still do.  What they do not see is their contribution would be/would have been a contribution to their own offspring, their own legacy.

Oak, as per the stories I have heard from his other sons and daughter-in-law was an alcoholic, mean, abusive man, overlooking anything positive about him.  For them the cabin is a place of  bad memories.  They have every opportunity to make new ones.  Oak died in 1996 yet they choose to hold on to their anger, often directing it at me, the outsider.  I would love for them to hear me out, to let me tell my own story of who I am, who I was made from and what I have done in my life and for the place.  On my nightstand at home I have a reminder for the nights I wake up tossing and turning in frustration; the note tells me to remember the others direct their anger at me because that is what they choose.  It’s not me it’s them.  They not only give me the silent treatment; during the past seventeen years of loving my husband none of them have taken a bit of interest to find out anything about me.  I would bet everything I have none of them know where I moved from to Colorado, or even where I grew up.  Not having had children there will not be any grandkids to be share my tales and adventures.  It is their loss, however I doubt they will ever have an inkling to what they missed out on.

My intentions are not to throw a pity party.   What I hope is you will take away with this an insight as to the love that has gone into the place.  I digressed, I fell not just for Rand and the cabin, but the idea of a family cabin, family.  I threw myself at the place, joining Rand in his efforts.  Circumstances in the past few years got pretty ugly, and I fell out of love with the cabin.  I’m working to regain my love, slowly it is coming back.

It has been said and I have tested it myself, if you truly love someone or something you have to be willing to let it go.  If it is meant to be, it will return to you.

With all due respect,


ps.  The tall chest of drawers in the cabin’s larger bedroom holds sheets and towels.  Of course they are there for the family’s use. Oh, and the beds sport new mattresses that are so very comfortable I wish I had them in my own home. Forget about sleeping on the floor.