Scattered Memories

I heard a loud crash early one morning last week and rushed to check on Joe, who was getting dressed.  Then I walked through the kitchen and front part of the house looking for damage.  One cat was sitting calmly on the back of a chair but the other cat hid for the rest of the morning.  I didn't have to guess which one had knocked a bowl of homemade pot potpourri onto our ceramic tile floor. Skye came to spend the day with me and as she helped me take this picture and sweep up the broken pottery and remains of dried herbs and flowers , we talked about the damage and how breaking something can make us sad.  She wanted to keep the broken pieces of the bowl and some of the dried rosebuds to put with her fairy garden supplies.  Then we swept the rest into the trash.

It was only after I looked at the photo that I thought more about why this dish of dried petals was special.
Every thing in the bowl was from our garden and had been added one at a time.  The tiny Katrina rose buds and petals from a fragrant Maggie rose and the yellow rose which clambers over an arch,  tawny, leathery Magnolias, lavender fronds, pieces of basil and rosemary, even a dried slice of Meyer lemon.  All were gathered and collected in a small hand thrown bowl fired in a speckled jade green glaze that I bought when we lived in Indonesia over 20 years ago. Some of the rose buds had been picked by little girls and proudly presented as a gift. Joe likes to bring me a flower or piece of herb when he comes in from the garden. It was a joint endeavor.

So I was sad, not for the things broken and scattered, but for that which they represented: the growing and choosing and gathering, the connection and love of my family. And once again, I know that I can let go of things, but that I keep the love.

Bella's Back!

Over two months ago, my post on this blog mentioned that one of our cats had disappeared, without a trace.  She was an indoor cat, never wanted to go outside, and as the weeks went by, we could only hope that she she had found a new home. But one night about 2 weeks ago, I thought I saw a black and white cat that looked like her on our front porch.  As soon as I opened the door, however, the cat vanished into the night. A few days after that, the gray and white cat, Angel, was on our back porch and when I went to the door to let her in, there was Bella.  I was sure it was her, but she dashed to the side yard and hid.  After an hour or so of a reverse sort of "cat and mouse,"  Joe coaxed her inside where she promptly needed to assert her territory by hissing and spitting at Angel, who by now must have been completely confused.  We had several days of War of the Cats, but as you can see, they are now peacefully claiming their share of Joe's chair.  I guess we will never know where Bella was for the two months she was missing, but sometimes she looks at me with those big golden eyes and I think for just a moment she is going to tell me!

Puzzling

Joe has been working on this jigsaw puzzle during the time following a recent surgery. We like lighthouses, and this one is lovely. But the landscape in which it sits is a challenge and took hours to work on. We kept looking for pieces only to find the missing piece on the floor. One day as I entered the kitchen, I saw the reason.

Angel the cat liked the puzzle, too.  She patted a piece to the table's edge until it fell, then looked for another one to repeat her trick. Two weeks ago, Joe went back into the hospital for another surgery.  I was spending most of the time at the hospital with him.  On the third day we were away, I returned home late at night, turned on the lights and discovered the lighthouse puzzle in chaos, mostly on the floor.  I think Angel and her cohort, Bella, were trying to express their displeasure at being left alone all day without someone to top off the food dish.  Why do they need feathers on a stick when they have us?