Searching for a place to sleep

Disappointed that I had removed the linens from my bed to wash them, Issie found a new spot to sleep - in the dryer

My, what a long tongue you have

No more kitty food for me

Issie screams for ice cream

Holy Kitty

Long Time No Blog

I have not communicated much of anything with anyone outside the insular world of my Clinical Pastoral Education group at the Seminary or the Chaplain Interns at Littleton Adventist Hospital. So sorry! Some days, it seems like I do little more than CPE or sleep. More news soon . . .

Live and Learn

Today, I went to school to meet with one of my mentors and to work on a paper - one of several I have due in the next two weeks. You know what they say about the best made plans. I brought the wrong mouse for my laptop. Apparently, my mice are not interchangable. My mentor and I got our wires crossed. We're meeting next week. What did I learn? I'm not in control - God is.

Behavior Modification

I got Issie her very own kitty cat blanket at my church's quilt sale. My ultimate goal is to train her to sleep on the blanket by the time I get my sofa recovered.

Cookie Monster . . . Cat

To celebrate the first anniversary of Isabelle's adoption, I had cookies made at Child's Pastry Shop.

Got Yogurt?

Lessons from the Surgical Suite

I learned some lessons from my most recent surgical adventure:

1. Self-care is huge. I'm no longer 22 - nor are most of you
2. There are smart doctors who are kind. If the first specialist you see doesn't meet your needs, find someone else!
3. Take pain meds
4. Take naps
5. Plan for your surgery just like you plan for everything else
6. Let your friends help you
7. If you can tolerate orthopaedic surgery, you can tolerate anything. Hysterectomies are far less painful than fusing an ankle (big staples), or lengthening heel cords and hamstrings - not to mention the multiple casts that often accompany these procedures

You can't get these @ Whole Foods

I thought I'd share two Easter traditions - albeit entirely secular ones - from my thoroughly midwestern childhood. My paternal grandfather faithfully stuffed my Easter Basket with Fannie May cream eggs each Easter. My parents, on the other hand, put Marshmallow Peeps in my basket at home. While I recently purchased these two treats, I doubt that my stomach will tolerate either. I think I'll go eat an apple.

This is the Day That the Lord Hath Made

Today, my home church, First Pres Boulder, is holding an Easter Egg Hunt. The Footwash, an outdoor outreach to the Boulder homeless community, is also scheduled. Welcome to Colorado where the temperature registers 72 degrees in January, and it snows in April. This picture is less than stellar. I decided it was better to take a picture out my patio door than risk falling out of my wheelchair - or worse.

Talk to the Animals

I'm not sure how/where to share this nugget of information. For now, my blog is as good a place as any. One of the biggest blessings I've received during my recuperation period is to have friends step forward and come into my home to take care of Isabelle. For people who live alone, pets are like family. Animals have a calming effect and contribute to the healing process. If I were a little more alert and a little less medicated, I'd cite some research for you. If you are looking for a way to bless someone on the mend, take their dog for a walk.

So Many Procedures. . .

Last Thursday, I had my long awaited GYN surgery. I returned home on Monday afternoon. This morning, my friend Jan helped me take Isabelle to a vet in Arvada, CO. Having received considerable advice to the contrary, I decided to have Issie's front claws removed. Unfortunately, clipping her claws myself is not a viable option. Arranging for the monthly nail trims had become unwieldy - in terms of both scheduling and arranging transportation. Anyhow, my cat is resting comfortably and returns home tomorrow. I'll sequester her in my bedroom/master bath area until her paws heal. Isabelle jumps like Jordan and my room provides fewer opportunities to go airborne.

Don't Try This At Home

I'm home from the hospital - trying to recover from surgery and catch up on homework. Though the surgery was successful, this procedure like all others involving a scalpel, was pretty painful. I have a high pain tolerance; but, there is a time and place for pain meds. While prescriptions numb six-inch incisions, they also make me loopy. So far,

• I've washed and tumble-dried my VISA card twice.


• I've backed the wheelchair I rented for my recuperation period into a bathroom wall and scraped some off some of the trendy new paint. While my home may be accessible, it does have walls.

Issie's Excellent Adventure

Monday night, my front door blew open. Bye, bye Isabelle! She came back twice; narrowly escaping, before I could shut the door. While I could hear Isabelle's bell whistling in the wind, I could not see her. I searched off and on for four hours - enlisting the help of one of my classmates. By midnight, I was convinced that either a coyote had captured her or she was sacked out in front of someone's fireplace.

As I was preparing to run errands on Tuesday, a kind woman from the next subdivision over rung the doorbell - handing me one tired and dusty kitty. Isabelle hid under this woman's deck for some 12 hours.

Random Acts 2

Yesterday, I went to Starbuck's to study while my carpets were being cleaned. The gentleman in front of me, whom I did not know, paid for my Iced Tea Lemonade and blueberry scone (I ate one third of it and threw the rest out). I was pleasantly surprised - and contributed $5.00 to the tip jar.

Eyes Wide Open

Takes a licking and . . .

Here's a picture of my bracelet that recently went through the wash when I washed a pair of jeans. The bracelet not only remained in one piece, but the glass beads were extra sparkly after all that soap and water. This reminds me of the Timex watch commercial from the Sixties where tag line was Timex, takes a licking and keeps on ticking.

Another LBK?

I might get another LBK (little black kitty). Yesterday, I went to Deer Creek Animal Hospital with Isabelle to get her claws trimmed. It 's a great place. Everyone is smart, nice, and loves animals. They recently treated a stray LBK, and now have it up for adoption. I held it. It is very friendly. Honestly, this is not the best time for me to adopt. I have GYN surgery in two weeks, and it is the middle of the semester. I never had stuffed animals when I was growing up - and live animals did nothing for me! I don't fully understand what's happened.

Consider adopting your next family pet. There are healthy, loving animals in shelters - and vet offices - all over the place. Isabelle came from a shelter. One of my cousins adopted an incredible chocolate lab from a shelter in Michigan.

Whatever floats your boat

Yesterday afternoon, I went into my bathroom and found that the the shower curtain had fallen off the wall and onto the floor. Isabelle curled up in the midst of it all, and appears quite pleased with herself.

Card Party

I got this idea from a Faith in the Workplace e-mail that I receive once a week. In a nutshell, you invite people over to play cards (not me), board games (Settlers of Catan and Scrabble come to mind), eat chips and salsa (now we're talking), etc. The 'price of admission' is an unused or partially used gift card that the host donates to a local non-profit. What a great idea! Check out the following link for more information: http://highcallingblogs.com/blog/house-party-card-me-at-the-door/1214/

Random Acts

Last week, I performed a random act of kindness for my room mate. Jessica called her mom to see if she had done it. She called her boyfriend to see if he had done it. She asked my cat – which was just too funny. She didn’t ask me.

I wonder if Jessica will ever figure out who did it? The sad thing is my room mate is sure it’s a mistake. I’ve had complete strangers do nice things for me on any number of occasions. My paternal grandfather did things for people all the time – particularly when he retired. Perform a random act of kindness for someone today and see what happens.

New Duds

Earlier today, I went to a big-box pet store to purchase some more kitty box stuff and a bag of kitty food. I also bought Isabelle a nifty new black and white collar. Do you care? I didn't think so.

If you think the collar and the new kitty dishes were extravagant, I was oh so tempted to adopt another cat. There was a male cat who looked as if he were Issie's fraternal twin. Also, there was a little tabby cat who had a sweet white face and a little pink nose.

Breakfast Anyone?

Isabelle sat my keyboard and meowed until I fed her breakfast. It worked.

Contemplative Cat

People who've not read books by authors such as Richard Foster, Dallas Willard or Ruth Haley Barton, probably are thinking 'A cat sitting on a book about prayer?' Those of you who have, might find this picture mildly amusing. Truthfully, Isabelle is a cat. She could care less about spiritual formation. She's stationing herself atop the printer to see if she can pounce on the pile of paper that is about to come out.

Triscuit Box Yellow

For those of you who don't live in Colorado, here is a brief peak at my freshly painted, Triscuit Box Yellow kitchen. My obsession with home improvement, which became readily apparent the day I signed the contract on my condo and subsequently filled an entire cart with treasures from McGuckin Hardware, is genetic. My mother, who is a retired realtor, fixed and flipped properties in Evergreen and Aspen, CO. My dad worked 40 years in construction. For the better part of my childhood, my parents owned and managed several apartment buildings in the Chicago suburbs. My Uncle Dane, a mechanical engineer, spent most of his career at Whirlpool/KitchenAid. Both my Aunt Anita and my Cousin Scott sell real estate. In short, I just can't help myself.

Of Blue Skies, Babies, and Triscuit Boxes

Long time no blog. This past weekend, I flew to Utah to see my friend Julianne and bond with her sweet baby, whose name is Hyrum. Julianne, whom I have known since she was five and I was twenty something, married in November 2007 and had her first baby in December 2008. I used some FF miles to purchase a ticket to SLC. I stayed at the Marriott adjacent to the University of Utah - which had an awesome view of the blue sky and the Wasatch Mountains.

Hyrum is the cutest boy ever. After holding Maddie, my cousin Scott's baby, and holding Hyrum for an extended period of time, I can safely say that I am no longer afraid of cuddling little ones in my lap. While I was gone, I had the light colored walls in my living room and hall painted buttermilk, the light colored walls in my master bath painted pinky beige, and my kitchen painted Triscuit box yellow.

Food for thought

I knew that I would eventually get off the cat track. Yesterday, I received a letter from one of the children I sponsor through Compassion International. Compassion is a Christian child sponsorship organization. People, such as you and me, make minimal monthly donations that enable poor children to receive nutrition, healthcare, education, and exposure to the Gospel. Anyhow, my little boy, who lives outside of Nairobi, Kenya thanked me for paying his school fees. I'm not trying to prosletyze; many of you do not share my faith. Furthermore, I'm not trying to make you feel guilty. Still, it amazes me how many children outside of the United States do not have access to things we take for granted - clean water, healthy food, and a low-cost education. Do children in the United States struggle? Yes! Even in this horrific economy, there are far more options for impoverished American kids than there are for kids overseas. Have I done a 360 and become a liberal? No. I'm still a capitalist at heart. I'm merely suggesting that we also invest in those who are less fortunate.

Please pass me a washcloth

Isabelle is like me in a number of ways. Most notably, her favorite room is the big, red master bath. Unlike me, she also likes to sleep on big thirsty towels, slurp water from the toilet, and search for stray water droplets in the tub. Recently, she has begun roosting in one of the sinks. Go figure!

Time for a nap?

I am not sure whether Isabelle is yawning or attempting to get in touch with her inner black leopard.

Humble Pie

Every so often, I need a baking disaster to keep me humble. The Buttermilk Pie I attempted last night did not turn out like I thought it would. Because I spilled some of the custard mixture on the inside of the oven, I turned on self-cleaning oven feature to clean it up. I've done this many times before - with messes far larger than this one. Anyhow, the spill ignited. The fire quickly extinguished itself; but, my kitchen still smells like a bonfire. Was I scared? Nah! All I could think of was a bunch of bored, suburban fire fighters chuckling - if I had needed to call 911.

Santa Hat? I don't think so.

Yesterday, I went to King Soopers to get a few things. I found a plush Santa hat on clearance for a mere 75 cents. I thought I'd shoot a few sweet pictures of Isabelle playing with the hat for next year's Christmas card. Ordinarily, she loves playing with things that are red - towels, wash cloths, those little red strawberry candies. Unfortunately, she would have little to do with the hat - even after I stuffed it with kitty kibbles. Lest you think that I've jumped the gun by thinking about next year's card, my Valentines and my Easter cards are ready to mail. Furthermore, I've got a fair amount of shopping done for Christmas '09.

Who is Baby Maddie?

Who is Baby Maddie? Maddie is my cousin Scott's little girl. As most of you know, I have no children of my own - unless you count those I've had in Sunday School or taught how to ski. Furthermore, I have no siblings. What's left? Cousins! When I was young, I'd spend time with my three cousins in hot, humid Southern Indiana. In many respects, they are surrogate brothers and sisters. Now that they are grown and have families, we spend holidays together. Collectively, my cousins have four children: Grayson, Greer, Lorenz, and Maddie. I spoil them rotten - especially Maddie who has dark hair, dark eyes, and is my god daughter.

Work in Progress

This blog certainly is a work in progress. While I know what I want it to look like, I have no idea how to use the tools that will enable me to complete such a task. I have fairly good design sense; but, blogs did not exist back when I took publication design classes back in the 1980's. Is a blog a publication? I'm not entirely sure. In other words, please be patient.

Furthermore, I have no idea what I will write about. I know that I will post winsome pictures of my cat and my cousins' children. Because I own a two-bedroom condo in the suburbs, Isabelle is as close to a big, black lab as I am likely to get.