Observation of a Couple

He looked at her,

She looked away.

He reached for her,

She looked away.

He touched her hand,

She looked away.

Are you here, he asked?

She looked away.

Please come to me.

She looked away, she looked away.

photo credit: <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/34827444@N08/3232292673/">Amydeanne</a> via <a href="http://photopin.com">photopin</a> <a href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nd/2.0/">cc</a>

Happy Gotcha Day Bosco

Some of the blogs I read follow a tradition they call "Throwback Thursday".  This Throwback Thursday is twofold for me and one of my kids. Today is Bosco's birthday/gotcha day. I know Gotcha Days are supposed to be the day one officially adopts a pet. I knew he was my Gotcha from Day One.

I first met little Boz on the day he was born and knew, especially after his Mama's owner later told me she was going to keep the kittens as mousers at her horse barn, that when the time came, he was coming home with me.  Now don't get me wrong, being a mouser at a horse barn for some kitties is a fun and admirable profession. But there was something I sensed in Bosco and it did not scream "MOUSER!" He seemed a little more sensitive than a professional pest control officer. And when I brought him home at six weeks, I knew I was right.

He has been my shadow for the past eight years, my bedfellow, my sweet guy, my little gay boy. He has the sweetest little voice and he loves to talk, but he only talks to me. He's afraid of the sound of  the doorbell, but he loves to sit in front of the open glass door when the sun is shining through. He never lets me be alone in my bathroom, which is probably too much information, but it's always nice to get out of the shower and see him on the counter waiting for me, talking in his sweet, small voice.

Happy Birthday/Gotcha day, my sweet Bosco.

Dream A Little Dream

For the past three nights, I have had three different, but similar dreams. Each dream was in a different place, but had the same theme. In the first dream, I was in a large mansion, almost like a castle. The second dream was set in a huge meadow, with barns and sheds set about. The third was in a Las Vegas, almost circus, like setting. I was with large groups of people, they all partying and having fun in the large settings, all milling about amid chaos. In each dream, I had no money, had lost my phone and if I held an iPad, it was someone else's. I knew no one. And I was terrified, almost hysterical in my search for my things and a way out of the bedlam. The people in the dream would try to distract me from my fear with varying degrees of success.

There were odd activities happening all around. At one time, there were three people sailing up in a boat wanting me to go with them, even though there was no water. There were also the flyers, which in a normal situation I would have been fascinated with as it is something I've always wanted to do, but these flyers were more swoopers, more raptor like. All I wanted was to get away, away from what I did not know, away from these people. In each dream, I would run through a labyrinth, terrified and knowing that I would not find the exit.

I would suddenly wake up, my body dripping with sweat, my breathing rapid and shallow. I would search around my always dark bedroom for any sign of unfamiliar light. I would put my hands out around me to feel for the warmth of my cats. Feeling comfortable that I had awoken and all was well, I would relax back into the pillows. Then the worst part would happen. I would fall back asleep and the dreams would begin as they had left off.

~MfT

Significance of Fifty

In Humans: the "petals" of the 7 main chakras total 50.

Prime Factors of 50=2x5x5.

50 can be Partitioned 26 times with each term no larger than 2.

50 can be Partitioned 234 times with each term no larger than 3.

50 can be Partitioned 1154 times with each term no larger than 4.

Sum of the squares of the Pythagorean 3-4- triangle= 9 + 16 + 25 = 50

50 is a Hexagonal Pyramidal Number. Sum of the 1st three abundant numbers 12 + 18 + 20 = 50

50 is the smallest number that can be written as the sum of of 2 squares in 2 ways.

The moon is fifty times smaller than the Earth.

The Chemical Element Tin has an atomic number of 50.

The 50 sticks, all the same length, which are handled in the consultation of the Yi King.

The 50 Gates of Understanding in the Kabbalistic tradition correspond with 50 levels of consciousness from unconscious rock through to an enlightened being. They represent the first (counting upwards from 10 to 4) 7 sephiroth on the tree of life (with each of the 7 containing every other of the 7 sephirth) + Binna the Gate of Understanding: 49+1=50.

The 50 letters in the sacred Sanskrit alphabet.

The 50 grains of the rosary Aksha-Mala of Indians.

Film: 50 First Dates.

(Source: virtuescience.com)

50 DAYS SMOKE FREE!!!!

(Source: Melinda's Lungs)

Thoughts On A Bridge

 

The river water was calm. The wind was quiet and still, as was her mood. She sat on the bridge, dangling her legs over the edge, her head resting on her left arm on the guardrail. She flicked pebbles into the dark water below with her right thumb, as if they were marbles. She wondered how many others had sat here. She wondered what thoughts might have gone through their heads. She wondered how many of them eventually got up and walked back to their lives.

She wondered how many of them jumped, and wished they hadn't.

Nighty Night

Time Changes, Not The Wind

Since the time change, I have done the reverse of what is probably considered normal getting-used-to-time-change behavior. Instead of waking up when my body says it is 6:00 AM, which is now 7:00 AM, I’m waking up at 3:00 AM, the old 2:00 AM. So, instead of “losing” an hour, I seem to be losing four hours and it’s not like I’m going to bed any earlier. No, siree, 10:00 PM sharp it is for me, even though that used to be 9:00 PM. I'm so confused, it's no wonder my internal clock is off kilter. Or is it because two of my cats have started coming to bed to join me about that time and, instead of being content to snuggle down and go to sleep, they begin grooming each other and start on me for good measure.


The other morning, I woke up to a howling wind. No, that’s not quite accurate. The howling wind woke me up. No, that’s not right either. I woke up to the sound of a creaking, cracking ceiling above my head and thinking that Chicken Little was indeed right. It sounded like the shingles were being ripped from the roof and were crashing against the sides of the house like an old fashioned rug beater. It even sounded as if the bricks of the house were moving and groaning. It’s three damn o’clock in the morning and, even though it’s still dark, I know there is dirt blowing outside. I would say that this kind of wind normally doesn’t hit us until spring, which happily is not that far away, but that would be a lie. Here, we get wind in all of our five seasons: fall, winter, spring, summer and hell.


Just the night before, we got the wind to beat all winds. I got an alert on my phone that a haboob was to be on top of us around 8:30. (Tee hee to you, all my male friends with 15 year old boy brains .)


ha·boob
həˈbo͞ob/
noun
1. a violent and oppressive wind blowing in summer, esp. in Sudan, bringing sand from the desert. (And sometimes Texas!)


Since the haboob hit after 8:30 and it was already dark, I didn't get any pictures. The picture below is one I took during a haboobian episode one day last summer around 5:30 PM CDT.

Yes, that is a street light peeking from behind the tree, not the sun. I wish I could say that this is not a common occurrence. But in all honesty, I cannot. This past week, every day has brought high winds and blowing dirt. Yesterday, I had to get fuel for my car and had to stand in an L stance to keep from being blown down.

We are in such drought here that I wonder if we'll ever get over it. As I get older, I understand much better the meaning of the phrase "Greener Pastures".  

~MfT