myjournallifeinthesticks: Please Donate $25, $50 or Whatever You Can Afford....

myjournallifeinthesticks: Please Donate $25, $50 or Whatever You Can Afford....: Seems you could spend a hefty $100 and never leave your email box, doesn’t it? We all get these emails from potential senators, represe...

Please Donate $25, $50 or Whatever You Can Afford...Huh?

Seems you could spend a hefty $100 and never leave your email box, doesn’t it? We all get these emails from potential senators, representatives, governors, or from people and organizations we would dearly love to help. It’s just not possible in today’s economy.

It really isn’t that people don’t want to help. Most of us would donate if we had an extra $25 lying around that we don’t need. In fact, some would donate that $5 they had left out of their paycheck, if it wasn’t needed. The problem is that no person, affiliate, organization, or charity is asking for $0.10 from you. Yea, change is all that is left and even that gets spent when a really short week comes along.

At the end of 2008, we had approximately $200 to $300 saved back in the drawer but that didn’t last long. By the end of 2009, we had maybe $100 left over after paying bills, and by the time Obamacare was passed, we had nothing. We had to let our health insurance go because the premium had skyrocketed. This year, due to the inflation the media refuses to report, groceries are getting to be an option. When we sit down to figure out what we can pay and what we can scrimp on, its groceries. This is Obama’s economy.

Most of the please donate emails have no-reply attached. You can only donate. You cannot say…

Dear Sir/Madame/Organization,

I would love to help you out but $25 is unreasonable. Unless and until you can take change, I have nothing leftover to donate. If you come to me on the wrong day of the month, I won’t be able to donate change. It’s that simple. Yes—depending upon the organization or person—I would love to help you, but I’m sorry. It’s impossible.

Yesterday, while checking my emails, I realized that if we had the money to donate to these causes, we could afford a decent cut of meat. We don’t even eat out anymore. We stand at the pork or steak counter in the grocery store drooling over the piece of meat we would love to have for dinner, and then we buy ground chuck. Tacos are cheap. Ramen is cheap. Chicken salad sandwiches are cheap, and when I’m behind an EBT card user and see them buying things we only dream of eating, I’m reminded of Obama’s income inequality speech and wondering how we can give anything more to people who are eating much better than we are…

If you sent me an email for donations, know this. I would love to donate to some of your causes. It would be great to send a check for $25 to help you win that seat in congress, or support the soldiers who have given so much, but we just don’t have it.  

Lake Texoma: First Official Vacation

My husband and I have been married 7 years and just this past week, took our first official vacation. We've gone to bowling tournaments, but those don't really count as vacation and we went to Horseshoe Bend for an awards ceremony...that doesn't count either. This past week, we went to Lake Texoma for a four-day, no-frills vacation. It's the first time since 2009 that we've actually been able to take a trip during his vacation and for good reason, money is tight.

We had a really good time with our youngest daughter, her significant other, and their three children. Robert is a good guy and he has been as responsible for us being able to go as anyone. He's worked on our New-Old RV since we made the purchase. The RV is a 1980 Winnebago Brave, which has been the source for a blog that I've been writing on my tiny house site. We named her Tess and she is the second used camper we purchased. The first is a 1986 Citation that was originally bought to make over into a tiny house. When we got the RV, we changed things up a bit. The Citation will become a mobile print shop...or a tiny print shop.

After 4 solid weeks of working on the RV and giving her a much needed makeover, we decided to take a trip to the lake. Lake Texoma has several different camping areas from which to choose, and we chose West Burns Run. The largest RV the area will accommodate is 60-feet in length. Ours was a shoe-in at just 26-feet. Until Saturday, Tess was the oldest "self-propelled" RV in that area. On Saturday, however, the flower power mobile arrived...it was a tad older, maybe ten years or so.

Here are the photos from that trip. Hope you enjoy. The people in them are my family and I enjoyed their company immensely.

A view to the north of our campsite

Yea, she has to have a new spare tire cover...that's on the agenda

She also needs one window and that's a portion of ongoing discussions

Old as she is, her canopy is still in good shape

The Hubby doing something

Hubby just enjoying the cool of the wind

She gets really good reception with the antennae. In fact better than our home antennae

One of several sailboats that are moored on the lake.

At one point, we saw five or six sailboats that appeared to be sailing in line

I know this is west, because I honestly thought--due to the haze--that it was the moon. Joke was on me.

We did see the moon later that evening and it was almost as large as the sun appears to be

My daughter Wendy and bless her heart, she never tans. She just gets sunburned

My granddaughter Alyssa making funny faces. She's 7 going on 8

My granddaughter Marissa who is 5 going 6 and tans like nobody's business

Our son-in-law Robert and the RV mechanic mastermind.

Got a picture of him anyway. He hates having his picture taken.

The girls showing off daddy's striper catch. He was the only one to catch a fish.

Wendy not too happy to have her photo taken and Alyssa scoping out a big bug.

Marissa lake gazing in the background, and my awesome well-seasoned coffee cup.

Alyssa giving me the poo-poo face and Wendy had something on her foot?

Alyssa demonstrating how not to use a knee board. LOL A lot she cares, right?

Well, she got closer to what the board was used for, but still not quite right.

In the meantime, Marissa was deciding what uses a cooler could have

Actually, she was watching her mommy and papa leave to go to the store.

The sunsets were beautiful...and that's no joke.

If you go to the lake, take your own grill. Theirs are not so good.

The nights were incredible and so were some of the photos I got, some others not so much

You could see more toward the lake than toward the campground.

Wendy was really tired...bless her heart. She works too much.

The torches were a good purchase.

Jeffrey got some sun, but he didn't want to be outside as much as his sisters.

myjournallifeinthesticks: Missy Growing Up

myjournallifeinthesticks: Missy Growing Up: This past Tuesday, Missy (the one we kept from the litter) was 13-weeks-old. The day after she was 12-weeks-old, she went to the vet t...

Missy Growing Up

This past Tuesday, Missy (the one we kept from the litter) was 13-weeks-old. The day after she was 12-weeks-old, she went to the vet to be spayed and de-clawed. Like her mother before her, the spaying didn't keep her down long. She was kicking up dust to get out of the pet carrier and has pretty much been going like a freight train ever since.

Sometime between Saturday evening and Sunday morning, she chewed her stitches out of her belly. We worried about this and the fact that her mother--the wandering mouser--has brought fleas back in the house from outside. The poor little thing has them and now, well, we have a flea problem. It's not that unusual in the country to get fleas in the house, with or without pets. Flea eggs can be picked up on shoes or caught in the creases of pant legs and travel into a home that way.

The problem with the fleas is not that we don't know what to do about them, but that kittens cannot be treated with most of the products used for grown cats--this would include Missy's mother as she is less than a year old, as well. So, we called the vet.

The vet didn't seem overly surprised that the kitten had chewed her stitches out, and she suggested that the flea collars we had purchased probably weren't the type that work well. We're now going to PetSmart to get new ones this Friday. Didn't matter terribly much as Missy--a predominantly white cat--has already had to have her collar removed. We're not sure what it was doing, but she had become almost lethargic and the moment we took the collar off, she was springing about the house again.

I removed the collar instinctively, because we had had other cats that reacted badly to one. Since I'm not a cat expert and have only had cats and seen their reactions to different things, I can only say that light colored cats tend to have more allergies to items such as flea collars. My daughter's cat Tigger-Bob lost the hair around his neck due to a flea collar, and we ended up having to treat him. It made a nasty-mess and I wasn't going to risk that that was what was happening with Missy.

Aside from a flea problem, Missy is growing up. She's begun counter sitting--not a bright idea. She's learned what the water bottle is for and how to avoid it, and she sleeps with us. It's really quite cute. She puts herself to bed at or around 9:45 every night, because she knows my husband's schedule. If we're in the office, she climbs behind my trash can under the small desk and begins her nap. She waits there, sound asleep, until Gary calls her out to go to bed.

She's smart, sassy, and convinced the world revolves around her. She has overtaken the house with her toys and overtaken the large and not-so nice older cat Max. He, on the other hand, is not at all impressed, but knows better than to do anything to her. She bounds at his tail, growls when he gets in the food bowl ahead of her, and in general, rules the roost with her delicate 2-pounds and 4-ounce body. Her mom stays outside until she gets hungry. She will come to the back door and trill to be let in and then she eats, gives Missy a cursory licking, and goes back to whatever it is she does outside.

Missy's siblings live with my youngest son and daughter, and we've been informed that Calypso--Missy's twin--is not at all frightened of life around her. The smallest of the litter is Minnie-Me named so because she is the mirror image of her mom and is finally growing. She's a bit of a miracle kitten because she fell into her water bottle and almost drown. Our son-in-law's quick thinking saved her life. Then there's Bandit, the kitten my son took home. He's a mouser like mom. He's a lover, fighter, and mouser. He loves kids and that is a very good thing.

We will always have the photos of Missy growing up. There are daily photos of all the kittens until they were five-weeks-old, and with Missy, the photos have continued. The photo at the top is one of my favorites of Missy. She's a bit of a dork, but she's so much fun.

 

Missy's mom is a beautiful calico. She came to us in November as we were putting up the Christmas decorations. It was along in a time when we were wondering what we do when Max passed on. Max is 14 and has been through a bout with diabetes, but hasn't realized that he can no longer eat dry cat food. Lately, I've noticed what looks like smoke in eyes, which can only mean cataracts. It's not always present, but could be a contributing factor in his missing the kitty litter box while taking care of business. We have worried about the hole he will leave in our lives, and can only believe that God sent Chrissy to us and everything else has unfolded accordingly. 

When God shuts a door, he opens a window. Chrissy is our window. 

Max, sometimes called TC for Top Cat, is an English Gray and true to form, he doesn't really like most people. He loves Gary and I and that's about it. The one exception is our son-in-law Robert. But all animals love Robert. Max has been the bane of our youngest granddaughter's existence. She is scared to death of him. He's 14 and weighs in at 11-pounds now. He has been heavier than that, but had to be put on a diet to get the diabetes under control.



Between them, we have the door, Max, and the window, Chrissy, and the little fan, Missy. Yes, cats are hard animals to love because they're stubborn, they're picky, and they can be quite mean when upset, but they also provide a love that is deep. Only a cat owner can understand the intricacies of the cat's nature. And that, is about all we understand of them.

Cats, Cats, and Kittens

I'm keeping a photo diary of the new kittens. It will span their first six weeks in this world. I've never done this before and have found it amusing, amazing, and cute to watch them grow day by day. The following photos are not all that we have, but daily photos are hard to place in a blog.

Chrissy (her name is Christmas) appeared in November around the time we were putting up the Christmas lights--thus her name. Our cat Max is getting old and we hadn't really planned on having any cats after he goes to the Great Kitty Bed in the Sky. He is 14-years-old and doesn't like anything, and at the top of the "I Can't Stand List" is Chrissy. He's not even aware that there are four kittens in our bathroom waiting in the wings--so to speak--to torture him.

The kittens are two weeks old, today, and almost all have their eyes open. The smallest of the litter is still somewhat without sight. We think it is because it's the runt of the litter, but still adorable. They don't have names, because three of them already have new homes to go to when they're weened. One of the white female cats will stay with us. I suspect that my husband will name her Missy. It's in honor of a cat that he once had and loved.

One Week

The kittens were a week old in this photo and you could tell they were growing. Chrissy has been a very attentive mother. She doesn't like for me to pick them up because I had to remove the first kitten. It was still born and she knew that I did not bring it back. Most of the time, she is very relaxed with my daughter handling them.

This is the little Calico kitten that will leave our home to live with my daughter and her three children. She hasn't told me what she intends to name her, but she is the little one that whines when she's removed from the bed.

This is the little one that is somewhat of a drama queen. It's all about her and she tends to stay near her mom and on the teat most of the time. She isn't, however, the largest although it might look that way in the photo.

This is little Ms. Adventure. It's not her name, it's her personality. She was the first and only one so-far to find her way out of the bathroom and into our bedroom, although I suspect it was by accident. I awakened to Chrissy trilling (she doesn't meow much, but she trills a great deal) and another voice, a soft meow that I didn't recognize. They were beside my bed and that is when and how I discovered that Chrissy doesn't know how to pick the kittens up. I assume--and we know what that makes me--that it is because she is only 9-months old herself. She will be spayed when the kittens are weened.

This is the only male and he's going to live with my son when he is weened. His name should be Jokester or Firecracker, because he's a funny little guy. All the kittens were trying to get milk and his sisters were all on a teat. In the process of him trying to find one of his own, he ended up head first, feet flying in the air between his mother's stomach and his sister's head. He is just too cute. We don't know exactly what colors he will be, as he was born solid black and has developed some brown in his fur.

Kittens are cute. Cats, like Chrissy are precious, and old cats like our Max are still hanging around because we love them. Max is cranky, hard to get along with, and does some fairly gross things--at times--but when you're not feeling well, he will come to comfort you. Cats are cats and everyone would have one if they stayed kittens. You're either a cat-person, or you're not.