Author: housekeeping

If You Believe in Magic

housekeeping

Momma’s got a story ….(doesn’t she always) …you know the mega conglomerates suck you in and ‘say too bad…so sad’ when you look online (because of the services you pay them to provide) and notice rates much lower than you pay…so you call…and wait…listen to free advertising of their latest products no home should be without and an inane music loop that repeats over and over and over again…like a three-year old on a xylophone because maybe only one Customer Rep made it in to work that particular day.

When you do connect, it is explained to you, the 25 year client, you must be a NEW customer to get those deals…huh…loyalty is worth what??? Sucks to be you….But if you would just get a package, bundle up, you could have breathtaking savings…for the next 6 months … if you sign a contract….for two years.  No thank you, Mr. Rogers and Ma Belle….here in ‘a place to stand, a place to grow’, we are so on to you…

But that is not ‘her story’… No, she wants to talk about a fix for the land line.  It started out as static on the line, progressed to dropped calls…well, except for the charity foundations and scam artists, with hands in your pocket who somehow always get though…. There was a problem, which of course Momma was warned sternly, if she had caused, she must pay and pay and pay for the expertise of hired help that would be sent for the fix. You Got It, Pontiac!

Baby Jesus...coming soon.
Baby Jesus…coming soon.

Now everyone knows an appointment must be set which keeps the customer home for a set period of time because like the return of Jesus, they could show up whenever between 3 to 5 hours, depending on their schedule.

All went well…not that well…it took 3 appointments actually to back to business during which for a period there was no longer had phone or internet service….and who lives without world-wide web today unless you’re on some God forsaken island in the middle of a hurricane…or an earthquake.

Mr. Simple Man came first… he scared Momma with talk of hooking in to a neighbours service and having to dig deep and wide to replace cable and resolve the problem…no, he could not fix it…but he’d place an order for what was needed and request another appointment be set up within 24 hours. Okay….

I really want a Little Leprechaun Momma!
I really love Rainbows and Leprechauns, Momma!

Mr. Young Man came next.  He was totally bummed out because Mr. Simple Man was clueless and had placed an order for the wrong equipment.  Digging, what digging…no new cable required but whoops, now there is no telephone line or  internet…but Mr. Young Man would make sure we had it up in 24 hours.  By now Momma is hyperventilating…her Wonder Boy would not he happy…nor would she! So Mr. Young Man called his boss to see if it could be done…like today…this afternoon…and that is how Momma met the one that Ma Belle keeps a secret…. a Top Gun in their arsenal, shrouded in mystery, living in a grand tree trunk, only sent out when all else fails…

The Little Leprechaun at work!
The Little Leprechaun at work!

Meet Little Leprechaun Man…Not an hour later he showed… a twinkle in his eye, a bounce in his step, a 1, 2, 3, Bob’s your uncle and the fix is in. ‘What did you do’…Momma asked… ‘Oh, I just took a cloth and polished the wires and connectors’, he claimed….but Momma knew…he had performed some magical mending that only a Leprechaun of the highest Top Gun order can achieve. It seems Leprechauns have diversified…there are not just one-dimensional cobblers anymore!

 

The Little Leprechaun at home!
The Little Leprechaun at home!
Is that the Little Leprechaun peering out of the tree trunk hollow?
Is that the Little Leprechaun peering out of the tree trunk hollow?

Now Momma and Jakita have a new mission to find out which big old tree trunk hollow or woodland the Little Leprechaun Man lives in (in case he is needed again)…no doubt close to a Fairy Ring because it is Momma’s understanding the Leprechauns play the fiddle as the Fairies Twirl….

Momma knows people will scoff at this tale but Ma Belle…we are so on to you! You’ll go to any length to beat the competition and keep dissatisfied customers happy!

Because: Ma Belle believes in magic, so come along with me….
We’ll dance until morning ‘then go hide in the tree…’                          (Paraphrase the Lovin’ Spoonful)

All Riders On the Storm

housekeeping

We  gotta love the man…We  gotta love the man….
We take him by the hand…We make him understand…
The world on him depends.
So our life will never end…We gotta love the man, yeah….

Rider In the Storm

All riders on the storm…All riders on the storm….
Into this house we’re born…Into this world we’re thrown…
Like a dog without a bone…An actor out on loan….
All riders on the storm…All riders on the storm…
All riders on the storm…All riders on the storm….

(Paraphrase The Doors)

 

 

True Love Never Dies

housekeeping
Shirts all hanging in a row...waiting for your return!
Shirts all hanging in a row…waiting for your return!

To me, I am still married… My loved ones say, move on…Your clothes still hang in the closet…Just waiting your eventual return.

 

 

 

Those were the days....
Those were the days….

I’m not as mad as a hatter… As so many seem to claim…We can still have long conversations…One sided, but still the same.

 

 

An Eternity Ring encircles a Phantom Crystal, rich in mysterious shapes, shades and shadows.
An Eternity Ring encircles a Phantom Crystal, rich in mysterious shapes, shades and shadows.

And so I feel you out there….Dropping by in butterflies…We don’t care what they’re saying….We know True Love Never Dies.

Here-Comes-the-Judge

housekeeping

Well, Miss–Here–Comes–the–Judge came booting in to town all Ready-Set-Go to Investigate, Dominate, and Eradicate that Secret Society of Scryers….. However, you know and I know, first she had to win over the hearts, minds and souls of those country folk and well, that’s not a simple chore…

The Inner chambers of the county courthouse. Fr: Morguefile By: Areille Jay
The Inner chambers of the county courthouse. Fr: Morguefile By: Areille Jay

They are more judgemental than the Supreme Court of Canada and are not weighed down by past court rulings, a Leave to Appeal or rustic law books from whence Amalgamation became Confederation …. or something like that, don’t quote me.

Still those simple folk had a loosely knit list (written in that indelible ink, never shared with Misfit Molly…because…well, she was a misfit) of qualities and quantities it took to be worthy enough to do the job at hand.  It would be applied fairly, squarely and without prejudice (although knowing human nature, you got to take that with a grain of salt).

 So… when Miss–Here–Comes–the–Judge made her grand entrance in to the Courtroom, they were a bevy of bystanders, The Official Evaluation Committee …greeting her… no, not so much… more to well, evaluate:

  • Betting they never saw a farmer's field before! Fr:Morguefile By:ManicMorFF
    Betting they never saw a farmer’s field before! Fr:Morguefile By:ManicMorFF

    Did Miss–Here–Comes–the–Judge have a proper sombre attitude which reflected in her looks, clothes, and deportment? Looked that way, but those killer high heels…totally unnecessary and citified. Weren’t those things outlawed in some countries? She’d break her freaking neck first time she was called to Mr. Farmer-in-the-Dell’s pasture to inspect his dead sheep that were surely poisoned by some unknown, nefarious troublemaker who should be prosecuted to the full degree and severity that the law decreed.   Those sheep were like his family Farmer-in-the-Dell said, with a catch in his voice.… and if justice could not be served, well at least commiseration was free.

  • Whoo-hoo...now that's classic! Fr: Morguefile By: Alvimann
    Whoo-hoo…now that’s classic!
    Fr: Morguefile By: Alvimann

    What kind of car was Miss–Here–Comes–the–Judge driving? Most important that it was a North American manufactured. After all, many the country folks had worked their heart out for the North American Free Trade Agreement (NAFTA…got that Mr. Trump?), had pensions from those gold mines and did not want any apple cart upset and their benefits yanked.

  • How did Miss–Here–Comes–the–Judge  project herself to the Welcoming Committee? (Comprised of, but not limited to: the Mayor, a Counsellor, some Big Shot Executives from the local Manufacturers, The Chief of Farmer Associations, the Police Department and the Volunteer Fire Department, the Newspaper Editor and of course, High Ranking Church Officials… a lot of names to remember …should we test her later?)

Now you must understand there was some heavy-duty qualification to becoming a member of the Evaluation Committee:

  • You had to be wise as Solomon.
  • No Members of your Clan could have been part of the Secret Society of Scryers as note Molly Misfit’s Never ending Journals and Tales.

But most importantly:

  • How to get on the Evaluation Committee!
    How to get on the Evaluation Committee!

    You must have been born in that county as well as your grandfather, great-grandfather, great-great- grandfather… etcetera, etcetera… preference given to those who had bragging rights for at least seven generations, both sides of the family. Your kids could be accepted to Harvard easier than making the Evaluation Committee.

And so it came to pass, without an interview, without poor Miss–Here–Comes–the–Judge being in any way informed, a discussion was held with varying opinions and judgement rendered, exclusive of anyone having to swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, so help me God.

It was soon to be seen that first an impasse, then an insurrection was in the making. That is why Miss–Here–Comes–the–Judge stood on the Court House Steps and declared (I swear):

See you in court!
See you in court!

All you Country Folk better listen up to me…Cause I am the judge, as you can plainly see…I want a big, round table now I’m here…I won’t sit down, if it is square…I’m gonna lay down the law… you better not budge…I can lay down the law …Cuz Here–Comes–the–Judge.                                                                               (Paraphrase Pigmeat Markham)

What? What did she just say? Was that the new fangled rap their kids listened to?

Word of Caution  Miss–Here–Comes–the–Judge: We will judge you no better or no worse than you judge us and our kin.  So…

Let’s Get the Party Started.

I Have A Little Aura

housekeeping

I have a Little Aura…That goes in and out with me… And every where my Aura goes… I am sure to be…

 

You got to BELIEVE!
You got to BELIEVE!

There’s some out there, not lucky… They don’t Believe, you see… But you and me lived many lives… Our Auras were not free…….

(Paraphrase Robert Louis Stevenson)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I Belong To You. You Belong to Me….In My Dreams

housekeeping
See me. Feel Me. Touch Me.
See me. Feel Me. Touch Me.

Here I am, up on my ICloud, with the latest GPS version focusing in on Momma’s front garden…Oh, there she is, on her hands and knees, almost completely concealed by those big daisy bushes… Momma, they are out of control…single petal, double petal, triple, quadruple, white petals, white and yellow, every shade of yellow petals but at least they are just in one corner of the garden.

Bachelor ButtonsThe Bachelor Buttons, they have just taken over the whole front garden….it looks like a Refugee Camp for Bachelor Buttons.   You got to step up and stomp out, Momma.  Show those Bachelor Buttons who takes and who gives orders.

 

We were so much younger then....Beau, Gen and Andy
We were so much younger then….Beau, Gen and Andy

Still, I am so happy to see you Momma, oh, and Brother Brainiac Andy and Sister Diva Calico Gen.  Hey, pay attention… I’m up here, no, here, not there.. See me, feel me….Oh, good, contact made…Momma stop rubbing your eyes…it’s me…oh and Andy, Gen….I was The Muscle Beauregard for you, remember how I kept you safe from harms way then …still, look how you slink close to Momma and wind around her body in apparent fright.  I am a Heavenly Cat now…new rules…Zero tolerance for me to taunt and terrorize (okay, okay, I admit, sometimes Wonder Boy had to toss me outside to cool off when I was rampaging around the house)… but that was then….this is now and I was always purr..fect around Momma…a true Gentleman Cat.

But I See All up here from this Vantage point… I know Diva Calico Gen…you have changed little.  You still prance around like you are wearing your bejewelled high heels that match your diamond studded collar and earrings. And you are even more mischievous, bringing innocent little mice to Wonder Boy’s Bed…I know, I know…if Jakita can bring her pink Fluffy Bunny and Tigger to bed, why can’t you bring  Mini Mouse.  There’s rules Gen…follow them.

And you, Brainiac Andy…face it, you have slowed down.  It seems the furthest you go these days is to hide in Momma’s peony bushes.  The good news is that the trail of feral cats following you and Gen slowed to a trickle and stopped.  Yes, you’ve mellowed. I could say even you have turned in to a Suck….every morning you jump in Momma’s lap for a cuddle…what’s that all about…that lap belongs to me, remember?

The other thing I have noticed from way up here on high, once I found my Blue ICloud to Heaven, you both abruptly quit helping Momma walk Jakita…not that she needs your help…you, Gen lying in the middle of the street for a belly rub…and you, Andy, taking off for the creek and not returning till long after the walk was done.  I always suspected you were posers, trying to convince Momma, ‘Anything Beau can do, we can do better.’ You heard Momma bragging to the family, the neighbors telling her how cute it was that I went on every walk with you and Jakita and it was all about upmanship…Shame. Shame

I would give anything I own...
I would give anything I own…

Yet it now seems that Hush Hush Sweet Charlotte Charlie is my stiffest competition.  I would never have expected that shy, paranoid Charlie could even compete for Momma’s affection…Yet there she is, bold as brass, trying to drink from Momma’s glass, wedging herself beside her in the easy chair, sharing her bed every night, waking her up every morning….don’t get too comfortable, Charlie because once you and Momma reach Heaven, the rules change…I am the King of the Jungle…you can be a Princess, okay?

I'm a sweet♥ ...really!
I’m a sweet♥ …really!

There is loads more to share and I’ll be back with news from all the other Four Footed here in Heaven who seem to think they have some claim on Momma but, end of day, goes like this:

She belongs to me…I belong to her…in my dreams…

I ♥ to Flirt!

housekeeping
1-2--3 Cha-Cha-Cha!
1-2 Cha-Cha-Cha!

I love to flirt…  I love to dance..
With you I’d love…To take a chance…

 

 

 

 

 

So committed to ♥.
So committed to ♥.

To Fall in love…    To make commitments…   But you’re insecure…You need reassurance…

 

That I won’t leave… That I’ll always stay… I can vouch for the present…But not for always….

 

 

Like 4ever????
Like 4ever 4ever????

I could easily lie…Say I made up my mind…                                                               But let’s look at my record…I’m just not the kind…

 

 

 

 

Night Time Is The Right Time. From Morguefile.com IMG_0522.jpgBy wallenberg
Night Time Is The Right Time.
From Morguefile.com
IMG_0522.jpgBy wallenberg

 

To make long-range plans… To always be true…                                                 So…let’s flirt and have fun…Tonight’s for me and you.

 

 

Be sure to read Part 2….Forever’s Today

If You Believe There’s A Man in the Moon

housekeeping

A long time ago…when the earth was green and there were more kinda’ animals than you’ve ever seen…Momma told me a story…part fact, part fiction and maybe, just maybe, part fibbing.

The-Man-Behind-the-Moon in his humble Third Concession home.
The-Man-Behind-the-Moon in his humble Third Concession home.    Fr: Morguefile                 By: Jober788

It seems when Momma and her Sister-Who-Taught-Her-Most-the-Things-She-Knows were playing in the forest one day, they met up with an old man, wearing an indescribable plaid shirt, flood pants held in place with ratty old suspenders, a bulging gunny sack slung over his back. He did not look left or right but trudged forward, a stoop in his back from the weight he was hoisting.

Now Momma and her Sister-Who-Taught-Her-Most-the-Things-She-Knows recognized everyone in Seven Counties so they raced home to ask their Mama (who we’ll refer to as Grandmama) whoever could it be.  Grandmama explained it was The Hermit who lived way back on the Third Concession, who only came out once a year in the summer to get supplies like sugar, flower, tea and coffee…other than that The Hermit lived off the land, fished from the streams, hunted for meat…like wow…people actually still did that?

Just their luck, their Papa (who we’ll refer to as Grandpapa) walked in as Grandmama was telling Momma and her Sister-Who-Taught-Her-Most-the-Things-She-Knows the Truth, the Whole Truth and Nothing But the Truth….that is when the Secret was revealed…time those girls learned so they could pass it on to their kids and so on and so on… till death do us part. 

Feature Moon Beams MAjor TomGrandpapa explained, yes, you saw The Hermit….but…he is also The-Man-Behind-the-Moon.  It is his job to take a pitchfork, a mega-long, long pitch fork and put the moon up in the sky every night and take it down every morning…and The-Man-Behind-the-Moon was eternal, not like Dracula drinking helpless victim’s blood, but being kept alive all these years by moon beams (not moonshine, moonbeams). No death and resurrection for The-Man-Behind-the-Moon…He was, He Is and Ever Will Be!

Sweet Baby Jesus
Sweet Baby Jesus

Momma and her Sister-Who-Taught-Her-Most-the-Things-She-Knows looked at each other, then Grandmama, then Grandpapa.  By now you know, Country Folk are Believers…they Believe in God Almighty, Sweet Baby Jesus, Santa Claus, the Easter Bunny, Wee Fairies and Gnomes in their garden… and in no particular order.   Yeah, Country Folk Believe in everything….well, accept Donald Trump.  Only Right Wing Republicans Believe  in Trump… sometimes, most of the times.

Many a season has come and gone. Momma and her Sister-Who-Taught-Her-Most-the-Things-She-Knows have had children that had children and they still have not heard of the death of The Hermit, AKA (also known as) The-Man-Behind-the-Moon  and in small towns, well, they have match box coffins and funerals for even the country mice…..give them a proper send off…which leads them to Believe (there’s that word again), Grandpapa was maybe on to something…

Grandmama (in the middle) with her World Class Poker Face.
Grandmama (in the middle) with her World Class Poker Face.  Fr: Morguefile By: Clarita

Not like Grandmama would give him up…she was no Conspiracy Theorist but she sure had the Best. Ever straight face of a World-Class Poker Player.

So what do you think? Any guesses???

 

 

PS: Scientists need not reply.

Amen, Amen, Amen, Amen, Amen

housekeeping
Rainbows in my eyes...honest!
Rainbows in my eyes…honest!

It is good to be…well…me. Sure I have to share Momma and Wonder Boy with the cats (rolling my eyes) but bet your booty, I get dibs, wedged on the right side of the easy chair, demanding attention, should Bad Boy Andy decide to step on Momma’s lap  to knead her ratty old black sweater, like it was his Birth Mama and him….together again….and nothing else matters….cuz they’re together again…where did I hear that before…oh, yeah same as a Conway Twitty song… 

 

I'm always up to something!
I’m always up to something!

Then Diva Calico Gen, not to be left out of any love fest, hops on the right arm of the chair, sniff kisses Momma and starts with the love bites, not liked by me, not tolerated by Momma. Okay, this is not going to work.   Momma only has two arms with hands… last I checked, she is not an octopus….and preferably both hands are massaging my body….because I’m Special, So Special… and may I add,  The Baby of the Family…sorry, no consideration for Seniors….just stand in line and wait your turn. Game over, as Momma stands up abruptly, knocking Andy from his perch and scattering Gen at the same time.  They troupe off in a huff and I got Momma to myself…Divine.  I’ll make it up to them later, play tag with Gen…let her win…and sit through a grooming session by Andy because their my buds…I don’t want them mad at me…I just want Momma’s attention, first, last and always.

So sweet Charlie!
So sweet Charlie!

Then there is the Ever-Wise Charlie….so humble…she would never overstep her Momma boundaries.  If Andy and Gen are outside, she will slink silently in to the living room, hop on to the couch, inching ever closer to me, settling down for a nap, trusting that I will protect her with a ferocious bark or growl, should any threat enter.  Sometimes, if Momma is alone in the easy chair, Charlie will jump on the arm rest, paws tucked underneath her, Egyptian Style but only if         1) I am not sharing the chair with Momma because she would never try to steal attention away from me, the Ultimate Earth Dog and 2) The Bad Boy and Calico Gen are long ago and far away. Charlie and I are simpatico…we understand the world at large better than most living things.

Peek-a-boo. I see you.
Peek-a-boo. I see you.

So who else claims Momma’s attention?  Well….you know, that Come-From-Away-Whenever-I-Want–Clem-Kadiddle-Hopper. He is not around that much and gives me no grief…still, it is another waste of Momma’s time as she clucks and fusses over him, giving him big bowls of food in his special cat dish, runs with buckets (okay, I exaggerate) bowls of water…that is like the thirstiest cat I have ever seen.  Did no one tell him cats venerated in Ancient Egypt?  Then there is the whole clear the track so he can hide under the claw tub.  He is High Maintenance, very High Maintenance.  Good job I like Clem or this would never do!

Somehow, I always manage to win attention from Momma when-I-want-it, for-as-long-as-I-want-it….so my all other Four Footed allies, just have to lump-it-or-like-it!. She feeds me, grooms me (endlessly – more eye rolling), walks me, talks to me (yeah, people look at her funny), plays with me, scratches me…oh, I  have my Momma well-trained.

Super Star...do you see me, the pink one, no that one, not that one.
Super Star…do you see me, the pink one, no that one, not that one.

For all you Four Footed Creatures, there is always a way to last longer, shine brighter, grab the spotlight of life, capture the mind and soul                    so you win the most (Wo)Man      hours….M.A.N.I.P.U.L.A.T.E.                                 Hear the Brothers shout:                      ‘Amen, Amen, Amen,  Amen,  Amen!’

 

 

That’s How They Do It Down In Puerto Rico

housekeeping

 

Despacito!
                                       Diva Calico Gen and Ultimate Earth Dog Jakita

 

Come on over in my direction….      So thankful for you, you’re my blessing…                                            Turn every situation into Heaven… You are my sunrise on the darkest day….                                                       Got me feeling like I’m okay….

Cause that’s what they taught us down in Puerto Rico…        Despacito

(Paraphrase: Luis Fonsi, Ramon Ayala, Erika Ender, Justin Bieber, Jason Boyd, Marty James Garton)