This is a photograph of me and my six siblings together, taken in 1998. Since then, my oldest brother,and one of my sisters have passed away. So obviously there won’t be anymore pictures of us together…ever. We live scattered about the Country, so we don’t see each other often and there are very few photos of all seven of us in one place at the same time as a result of the miles between us.
I’d posted another shadow shot in an earlier blog. These shots were taken on various sunny days when the sun was flirting with Magi and me and our shadows … Digital photography obviously allows us to capture everything we see. What fun!
Ice cream anyone? “Wow, Gram, this is yummmieee! Ummm, Chocolate Chip mint! My favorite!” I just wished I’d known we were going to take pictures, I’d have put on some make-up and dressed a little nicer. Oh well, why hide the truth? Casual is my favorite way to dress, especially at home. Opal (Jacob’s Mom) came by to pick him up and we snapped off this shot. Being her first child, Opal was hesitant to feed the baby little treats. But not me, I was always giving him little tastes of ‘something new’. Obviously, the ice cream was a pleasant surprise for him.
And as you can see, not much as changed. You know what they say… “I scream, you scream, we all scream for ice cream”.
There’s nothing like indulging in ice cream on a hot summer day at Maymont Park. So we did!
Okay gang, so it’s not a photograph, but I assure you that Oscar regrets not having listened to Olivia. Now it is too late. Below is an except from my book, “How Orples Came To Be“.
This is from the prototype I’d made when putting my book together.The font has changed in the published version, but otherwise, the book is the same. In any event, Oscar has been caught and is praying that Olivia will come to his rescue. If only he’d listened to her and waited for a plan of escape before being caught. Thus, the excitement begins . . . .
The sleeping child is my grandson, now 10 years old and going strong. The cat was my beloved stray. The cat is the subject of my first post on the subject of ‘Love’. You’d think I would start with my family, but this is the first photograph I came across and it said ‘pick me’, so I did. (LOL)
Stray showed up on my doorstep one day. I fell in love at ‘meow’.
I’ve had a lot of cats in my lifetime, but this cat was like a soul mate. He was such a true gentleman. Stray definitely had a little piece of my heart, so I begin this week with honoring him. Love, sometimes being a double-edged sword, turns to heartbreak as was the case the day my dear, sweet Stray died. Our street was not particularly busy, and Stray usually stayed in our yard but I still worried that one day he would get hit. The day it happened (Oct. 1, 2006) , standing at the window, I saw the car hit him. I rushed outside and found him hiding under the front hedge, clinging to life. I helplessly watched as the life faded from his eyes and his body went limp. It took fifteen (+/-) grueling minutes for him to die and there was nothing I could do but hold him and cry. There was no use in calling a vet as it was obviously that he’d been crushed. He labored to breath and blood oozed from his mouth. I cried for days thereafter. Finally one day, my youngest son pointed out to me that some animals never experience love at all in their entire lives. Some animals are abused, neglected, or simply raised for slaughter. Stray had been loved. And even if we did only have a mere five years together, it was a bond of joy and now bittersweet memories for me. So today as I ponder the subject of ‘love’, I am thinking of Stray, wishing I’d brought him in the house that day. Maybe I should have waited for ‘regret’ to be the theme of the week to post this entry.
Trixy is hoping she survives her little friend.