October 6 - Two Days till Disneyland!

This morning, in the kitchen, as I poured my first cup of coffee, I noticed the nice smell of bananas. We went by Tigermart Farms last evening to buy a few organically grown fruits and some buffalo meat. We gave up on “store bought” bananas, they are always so hard and there’s not much taste. But these are Good.

As I stood at the counter this morning, the banana smell took me back to a distance memory. That smell always does. It takes me back to…kindergarten! I went to a private kindergarten cause in the late 50’s in AZ there were no public school K grades. My Mom always packed my lunch as she couldn’t pick me up till the middle of the afternoon. And it seems now that my lunch box always had in it:

A small thermos of milk
Some sort of sandwich
A banana

I never ever smell bananas I don’t remember those rooms and my teacher, who’s name was Teddy Bear (really the owners name was Bear and Teddy was their daughter, my Mom reminded me of that when I was older). We called her Miss Bear.

Which leads to two more kindergarten memories:

Graduation! We actually had a graduation ceremony. And we girls were taught how to cancan so on graduation night danced, sang “Buffalo Girls Won’t You Come Out Tonight” and I was the lead singer, probably cause I was the Loudest. I was always the Loudest. My Mom and sister and I always sang while riding in the car so maybe I was the only one who could really carry a tune? Naw, I was the Loudest.

And second, I hated being in school. I wanted to be outside. I carried this little problem with me through 12 years of public school and on to college.

Our vet, and client, in Houston sent me these :0)

Haiku Written by Cats

The food in my bowl is old,
and more to the point
contains no tuna.

There's no dignity
in being sick - which is why
I don't tell you where.

Tiny can, dumped in
a plastic bowl.
Presentation: one star;
Service: none.

Am I in your way?
You seem to have it backwards:
This pillow is taken.

Your mouth is moving;
up and down, emitting noise.
I've lost interest.

My brain: walnut-sized.
Yours: largest among primates.
Yet, who leaves for work?

Cats can't steal the breath
of children. But if my tail's
pulled again, I'm going to learn how.

I don't mind being
teased, any more than you mind
a skin graft or two.

So you call this thing
your "cat carrier." I call
these my "blades of death."

Toy mice, dancing yarn,
meowing sounds. I'm convinced:
You're an idiot.