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.