But most of the time, things just fizzle and I end up going off to play FreeCell. Recently I came across some YouTube about Shakespeare, and I am going to take advantage of those - especially the one about the real Macbeth. What I truly wish I could do is see the plays, the whole plays. I'm only into the tragedies (you can blame that on my Puritan high school teachers), but I find there's so much more I can appreciate when it comes to them. And how grateful I am that my life doesn't mirror theirs. In fact, what follows is about as bad as it gets most days...
I bought the boss the wrong cat food. Again.
The right brand, the right type (pate over bits), and the wrong flavor. As soon as Amy saw/smelled/heard it was chicken and not white fish/tuna or salmon, she ignored it. On Saturday, the whole day, it sat there. I mashed it with a fork. I don't know what that was supposed to accomplish; maybe it would smell different? It certainly didn't look the same. Hour after hour I passed her by, thinking any minute now, she would succumb to the delectable, spreadable offering in the bottom of her dish.
You haven't lived until you've been given the evil eye by a cat. Bast-like, she glared at me; if those had been lasers, I'd be deli-sliced. Anyway, in the late afternoon, I dumped it down the disposal, washed the bowl, and filled it with kibble, to take her through the night. I still had a few of the fish meals left - I had thought I was getting a jump on the pantry - and, this morning, I gave her one. She stuck her nose into it and didn't come up for air for many minutes. This morning the store was nice enough to take the turkey/chicken back, and let me exchange it for the fish-flavored. Let it be known to all, that I have of'fish'ily learned my lesson...
And I did something today, something I'm rather proud of. I need to set this up.
Just so you know, I've been there, where this lady was. And nobody was helping her; frankly, I don't think they knew how. But, if you have ever been out with a small child - say, four or five-years-old, and there's massive traffic in the parking lot, and the kid is defying you (he dances just out of your reach, he won't hold your hand, he won't cross with you, he won't go back to the car - he is just being an absolute brat!) - you know what I'm talking about. And my old ticker just went out to her.
I slowed down, rolled down my window and asked if she was his mother or grandmother.
"I'd like to speak to him. Is that okay?"
I motioned him toward the window.
"LISTEN YOU! YOU DO WHAT YOU'RE TOLD AND YOU DO IT NOW..."
I don't remember the entire rant, but I put the fear of Jesus in him, and he cuddled into his mother's side. Then I parked, and I didn't see them since. Which me reminds of this...
There's an old story about a king going for a boat ride, and one of his slaves was making a fuss. They tried bribing him, threatening him - nothing worked, and the king's excursion was about to be spoiled, when a wise man asked if he might try to quiet the servant.
"Oh, t'would be a righteous deed!" exclaimed the king, and the wise one ordered the slave to be tossed overboard.
He was allowed to flounder, and swallow some of the river before he was grabbed by the hair and pulled back on board. The slave immediately scrambled to the main mast, wrapped his arms tightly around it, and sat in silence. The king was amazed and asked, what is the wisdom of this?
The sage answered,"The servant did not know what it was to drown, and so did not value the safety of the ship. So doth every man value security who hath known calamity."
So doth every little monster cling to Mother, once being screamed at by a crazy lady who won't mind her own business. I hope it lasts.