a feral Kat

Organizing the garage. Old empty silverware boxes turn up in thrift stores all the time, just sayin.

Petey’s ashes are home. May there be no more pick ups of this nature for a good long while, cat or human.

Love my ridiculous Kwen.

Oh but still.. why the slurpy grooming session after 2am. Round cat, you are SO CLEAN, go back to bed.

They aren’t normally allowed in here during sleep hours but I was ambushed before shutting the door, with purrs and hopeful faces.

They are comforting when not tromping about. The least I can do is let them be close while adjusting to Petey’s absence.

The two remaining cats, that didn’t pay much mind to Petey, are being very clingy with each other and with me. Kinda why I’m awake after 2am..

Crappy dream woke me, but these two are going back n forth between milling about on the bed and cuddling. I haven’t the heart to oust them.

Petey, my little black cat of eighteen years, passed in his sleep Saturday morning. He loved everyone and everyone loved him. The absolute sweetest ever.

It was obvious his time was nearing, but one is never really ready. I will miss my pretty baby more than there are words for.

Willie and Miss Lily Wingsworth. Good for wishes but don’t insult her casseroles or you get curses. (Cute scrap using project!)

Anybody know why my pix won’t show up? I’m not really seeing where to go for settings or issues. It worked before but I’m kinda stumped here.

Bag made of scraps! Let’s see if it posts the pic this time. 🙃

Made a bag yesterday to use up scraps.

Not sure what level I’m at, but I’ve been looking up stirring volcanoes so I know who to make coffee for. I feel like the world is overdue.

Volcano feels. Who’s brewing?

Final weekend at Brevard Renaissance Fair starts tomorrow. Gonna revisit my fit from Viking Weekend since the weather is looking good for it.

Scared kid on cruise, “What if the ship sinks?”

“That won’t happen to us, don’t worry.”

Wondering if kids on the Titanic heard the same, “But what if it did?”

“It won’t.”

Lost for what to do through panic, with only echos of skills forsaken for words of comfort hubris, “Are we in the same boat?”

There was a bunny in Stumphenge today!

I can’t deal with these two.

Considering a raised bed along the fence line. There may even be enough extra wood in my parents garage to do it on the cheap. It’s already getting so hot though. 😭

That survival mode itch to cancel the yard guy so there will be weeds to eat later.

For real though, it feels like it’s time to take the Florida foraging book out and be ready with salad alternatives. Finding non-sprayed areas will be the butt though.

Tired as I am and bleak as things feel, what emptiness is threatening is being filled with curious determination. It’s like a gathering, unable to yet be used. That’s as best as I can describe. It makes me want to tell friends to hold on. If nails and skin fail, hold on with your very bones.

I don’t know what to say about much currently but one thing is very clear. Fresh grief over my Dad alongside the chaos in this country is beyond suffocating. If not for friends and previously planned renfair season as pockets of air, I just don’t know.. I am so tired though. Fatigue is catching up.

Sunset on Monday, he took his last. The final hour, just me and Dad.

He was groggy with a headache but knew who we were and was happy to see us before he fell asleep again. Gave him scarf and plush whale to keep with him. Getting ready to go back.

The good part about yesterday was him being alert and aware of what’s going on. He wasn’t when they took him Monday. Going to see him yesterday, we thought it highly possible Monday was our last day talking to him. The relief was real, like a lotto winning dream. If we get nothing else, we got that.

Not in the habit of xposting from FB as I’m wordy & this platform can’t deal.

Short of it: Dad fell Monday, in hospital w brain bleed, originally went in with skyrocket blood sugar. Airlifted. Yesterday, surprisingly better but we’re not out of the woods. Yes, he’s quite old. Nope, not ready.

Hide your mead. Hide your stout. Mari Lwyd s’ready for a cold night out.

Omg it’s working. Now if I could just find the big box of embroidery thread, I could get the sheet on it.

First timer at paper mache. Making a horse skull for the holiday. It’s the only way I have to get into parties. ;)

These babies. It’s Kwen’s first tree experience and possibly Petey’s last, but who knows, he may outlive us all.

Hard relate to that left behind feeling. Been hiding some depression behind the scenes as well, which leads to slight social withdraw, which leads to watching ppl press forward. At least it’ll feel that way. They’re more likely waiting until I feel like jumping back in.