NY 2019

In the first light of the New Year,
I stood alone to face the dawn
And raised a glass of Seven cheer
For all that has come and gone.


Hello 2019

So it begins… I’m a firm believer that what you do on New Year’s Eve and Day will set the tone for the entire year. I want to live a peaceful, creative life in harmony with my own self so I shall do things today and tomorrow that will nurture my soul and affirm intentions.

I have a list. Yeah. I’ve been thinking about this for days and gave everyone who likes to pop in on me unannounced a heads up, like a leave me be… let me do my thing, love you but I don’t want to socialize this year. I want to make art and toast the dawn, light candles in the snow. It’s a solitary thing.

Well, forget the snow as the forecast is rain today tapering off after midnight. Sunrise should be a dry 42 degrees. Perhaps KiKi Gath Ddu and Ysbryd with join me.

Yeah… up to feeding two black cats now.

This photo is KiKi, snapped when she came in on a cold night. I named the elusive feral Ysbryd (Welsh for Ghost) because he is rarely seen and looks so much like Marsberry that my grandsons told me that I “pranked” them about Mars being dead. I’m pretty sure Ysbryd is the same black cat that freaked the vet out in 2017 (wrote about that and crack back then, here’s a link:  Crackerjacks).

I’m pretty sure that KiKi has some kind of relationship going on with Ysbryd as he showed up the night my neighbor “recused” KiKi and brought her to my house.  I was told that she was a sweet little house kitty, abandoned when her owner moved, but it is fairly obvious that KiKi is a full grown cat who loves the outdoor life. She won’t come in unless it’s bitter cold (less than 20 degrees) and I know she’s bedding down somewhere, perhaps nesting in the old compost bin with Ysbryd, as I’ve seen her walk the exact same path across the back yard as the feral and have brushed out bits of weeds out of her fur. She knows this is home, shows up every night for dinner on the porch. I’m pretty sure Ysbryd eats here, too. That’s KiKi’s doing. She wants those dog-size dishes filled to the top, more than enough for two or three cats. Most days, it is gone before morning.

Oh well… here’s my New Year’s List of 19 for 2019 (in no particular order):

  1. Out with the old… take down Christmas decorations; take the vet’s coats off my kitchen coat rack, bag them up and stash them in a closet with his other stuff that he’s yet to take home.
  2. Set up “new” work table (a street find) in my office/studio space, rearranging furniture till it feels right, opening space to relocate this computer in there, too.
  3. Straighten up the kitchen dining area and baking center, stashing away holiday supplies.
  4. Write a blog post (this one).
  5. Try a pour painting technique, just for grins.
  6. Finish painting the outdoor ashtray stand (base coated months ago).
  7. Hang more art (have to drill holes in old walls for that, too.)
  8. Photograph the back side of “Endure” before rehanging it on the wall (plan to post it for sale).
  9. Tear pole lamp found on curb apart, paint flowers or something on the shade.
  10. Spray paint and hang the Gong (outdoors, must be over 40 degrees, no rain).
  11. Invent a new recipe (thinking stuffed chicken nuggets).
  12. Wake up before dawn (ditto tomorrow).
  13. Light candles and toast the first dawn of the new year.
  14. Bead a crystal bracelet for a friend who likes to sparkle.
  15. Crochet at least a row or two on that shawl started awhile back.
  16. Write down that blues poem… it’s like lyrics to a song being writ in my head.
  17. Sharpen all my pencils. If I feel like it, start a new drawing.
  18. Start listing old colored pencil drawings for sale online.
  19. Apply temporary tattoo for grownups purchased awhile back.

These are not resolutions. There’s no deadline, no timeline… might take a few days before I can check everything off, but that’s how I want to start my year. I hope you get to start yours as you please, too.

Here’s to good things for us all… thanks for reading!

Rough Start

2018 crept in on the still of a bitter cold night. We opted to stay in, as I was recovering from a lingering wintery virus that may have been a strain of flu. I stayed up talking to my nephew, who came to stay with us just before Christmas, and took my sober ass to bed around ten. The vet was already asleep, even though he had napped the day away. He had celebrated with his buddies the night before. I laid awake until the sounds of distant fireworks and gunfire intermingled with his snores.

So much for a kiss at midnight, a peck at dawn greeted our new year.

Oh, we were off to a real good start and yes, I am being sarcastic. The vet left with a neighbor to go play cards with the fellas while I was still cooking the traditional holiday dinner and did not wander home until the next day. So much for luck.

Feeling neglected put me in a pissy ass mood. If how one starts the new year is an indicator of how things would be, it’s time to clean house.

I started in my office, shredding papers and what not, with a plan to work counterclockwise through the house. The vet was alternating nights, establishing a pattern of splitting time between here and there with the same results as before… home only 3 or 4 nights per week, like one foot out the door already, may as well box up the other. Then something changed. I was home alone when I felt it, something had shifted in the time warp continuum… okay, that is goofy, let’s just say that it came like a knowing without knowing why or what happened that would alter the course of everything. I just felt it and knew  everything would be alright.

Two days later, my nephew wrote the manual on “How to Self-destruct in 90 minutes” by living it out. Had I known that hearing Arabic and other languages when he could not find me in a crowded Walmart could trigger some kind of post-war PTSD episode coupled by paranoid delusions that would escalate to violence within an hour of leaving the store, I would have asked someone else to take me shopping.

He has a good lawyer, so maybe he can get help instead of prison time. All charges stem from fighting police after he was handcuffed. He resisted arrest as if captured by his imaginary foes.

I almost didn’t mention it as his mother reads this blog and she is very distraught over everything. It has been heart wrenching for everyone. The vet is still sore from my nephew beating on him. He has a broken collar bone. I am still trying to process what happened. I don’t understand the why… the vet treated my nephew like family, they got along well. There was no simmering animosity between them, as far as I could tell. They have had heated discussions over my nephew’s ideas on how to remedy social injustices, but even then, they were expressing opposing views… not even arguing. There was never any fighting, no name calling, no harsh words or anything.

What bothers me the most, is that my nephew, for whatever reason, became violent in my home. This experience tells me that he is unpredictable and dangerous. Deep down inside, I am now scared of my own nephew and I am having a hard time trying to wrap my brain around that because I have so many memories of him as a sweet little boy. I love him.