Balloon Lady

I am beginning to learn that it is the sweet, simple things of life which are the real ones after all.  

- Laura Ingalls Wilder

 

Every Tuesday afternoon for the past 12 years, my friend JoAnn and I have been meeting with the elderly Benedictine Sisters in the infirmary at Benet Hill Monastery. We bring them a home-made dessert (which we take turns making) and spend an hour with them in fellowship and conversation. We call it our Tuesday Tea Party - even tho no one drinks tea! We always think of a question to tweak their memories and get them conversing about the past. It's been an unexpected blessing for us as they share their wisdom and memories.

When we first began doing this, JoAnn and I were working at the Monastery. We are both retired now, but they enjoyed it so much that we decided to continue. So every Tuesday afternoon, the two of us meet for lunch and make the 50 minute drive to the Monastery for our Tuesday Tea Party. This is where the balloon lady comes into the picture.

It was yesterday - Tuesday - and we were eating lunch at Chick Fil A before heading up to meet with the Sisters. From our booth, I noticed this woman making these balloon animals for all the young children in the restaurant. I watched their faces light up with big smiles as she twisted and turned those ordinary colorful balloons into works of art. When she passed by our booth, I asked if she would mind making one for me to bring to the Sisters. It's silly little things like this that also light up the faces of us "older" folks, so I knew I could find it a good home. And I did! Meet Sister Ernestine who is now the proud owner of her very own balloon-doggie.

I Agree!

Went out with Skip yesterday and we stopped for lunch at Culver's. While he was getting our food, I was busy people-watching from our booth and spied this dessert menu. Nothing profound about it, just made so much sense to me, tho. Life IS short - so enjoy the ride. Eat dessert! Find things to smile about. Practice kindness. And don't let negativity rule your life.
Now, if I can keep all these in mind, it will be a delightful day.

Camera Ready

Whenever Skip and I travel up into the mountains, I always keep my digital camera right by my side hoping that I will catch that "National Geographic" photograph of our resident wildlife. On our drives, we'll spend hours scouring the woods, the valleys and the sides of the roads, most often seeing nothing - but this day we were in the right place at the right time.

We were driving back from a day spent in Cripple Creek, a mountain gambling town located on the western side of Pikes Peak and about 60 miles from our home. Having left most of our money behind, we were in need of something to lift our spirits. The narrow two-lane road out of Cripple Creek is a constant series of sharp "s" curves that wind back and forth down the mountain with a steep drop-off on the left and a vertical rocky incline on the right. As we rounded one of the corners, my eyes happen to glimpse a herd of big-horned sheep vaulting up from my left. In a split second, they were darting across the road and scampering up the incline on the other side. And at that same moment I also heard the screeching of tires and saw the red brake lights of the vehicles in front of me as the traffic in both directions came to a complete standstill. I was driving, so I yelled for Skip to grab the camera and start shooting.

It was really an amazing site. Most female big horned sheep give birth to a single lamb (baby sheep) in the spring. Once the baby is strong enough to follow its mother, the pair joins other mothers and babies. This was just such a herd. Once they were all safely across the road, they took their time to regroup and climb up the rocks - every once in a while glancing back at all the curious on-lookers.

We are so fortunate to live in such a beautiful state as Colorado, and to be able to enjoy its variety of wildlife. For as long as I live, I will never tire of experiences like this.

BELLA

Cats are intended to teach us that not everything in nature has a purpose. 

- Garrison Keillor

I was in Denver one Mother’s Day (2008) visiting my daughter Danielle, and had a $100 bill burning a hole in my pocket - a gift from Skip. “Anything you want to do with that money is OK by me,” he had told me. Wonder if he regrets that statement now? It wasn’t 20 minutes after I told Danielle of my new-found money that she suggested we take a 15-minute trip to the Dumb Friend’s League – their local humane society. (For the record, I detest that they call our animal friends “dumb.”) A couple hours later, and $100 poorer, we walked out with the sweetest looking Manx cat named Bella. Not too much was known about her except that she was dropped off by the previous owner. All I could think of was she was going to make a perfect companion for our 5-year old beagle Buddy. I just KNEW they would become the best of friends.

The ride back to Colorado Springs was uneventful. Bella never moved once inside her little kennel. The staff had advised us to confine her to one room in our house to allow her to adjust to her new space, so when we arrived back in Colorado Springs we put her in our guest bedroom with food and water and opened the kennel door. We stepped back and just watched. She laid perfectly still – eyes straight ahead – frozen like a petrified little statue. So we slowly backed out of the room and closed the door to give Bella some space to explore her new surroundings.

Later in the early evening we went down to the bedroom to check on our new cat. After searching the 12 x 12 room for nearly 30 minutes without seeing even a whisker, we decided she must have found the perfect hiding space. For a week we never saw Bella. Food was being eaten, water was gone each morning and she was using the litter box – but still no sign of this elusive animal. I mean, how does one simply vanish in such a small space? Then came the day that I opened the door, saw her dive under the bed and immediately disappear. She had found the perfect place to elude her captors – a tiny tear in the box spring bottom allowed her to crawl up inside and make her home.

After several weeks, we opened the door hoping Bella would enjoy the run of the whole house. Months went by and still she kept to herself in the safety of her home under the mattress. I called Danielle one night crying, expressing my thoughts of giving Bella back to the humane society. How could this precious animal possibly be happy existing like this. But Danielle suggested we give her till Christmas to adjust. We had already had her five months with no signs of her bonding with us, let alone being a “buddy” to Buddy! And all I wanted was to have a little cat who would curl up on my lap and be my friend! Patience, Barbara.

Well, that was 24 months ago, and I eventually got the cat of my dreams. It actually took until Christmas (8 long months) for her to venture into the rest of the house, and another 8 months before she’d allow me to touch her. To this day, she will not allow anyone to pick her up. Everything has to be on her terms, which is Ok by me. Today she sleeps in a chair right next to my desk when I’m in my office, walks back and forth on my keyboard begging to be scratched and petted when I’m trying to work, and the minute I sit down in my living room chair, Bella is up on my lap making herself comfortable. She's now by our side from morning till night. Skip keeps saying, “guess we should be careful what we wish for.” As for Buddy, well Bella has no love for him at all. This little demure cat rules this house, and our sweet beagle gives her lots of space. I’m glad we rescued Bella – she’s been well worth the patience it took to incorporate her into our family. But I often wonder what kind of life she had before to make her so fearful of life. I so wish she could speak…