The Reindeer Keeper

Getting a kitten was never a resolution. That is too strong of a word. It was more a Hope that at some point, it would happen if all the stars aligned. In other words, if having a kitten would work out in our home due to my son Brian using a walker. I had visions of a kitten getting in his way. Making him trip. Fall down. So, for a long time, I ignored wanting a kitten. That changed when Brian brought the subject of getting a kitten up, telling me it was a good idea. So did my two grandchildren. Not long after that a search began for our long overdue kitten. My grandchildren and I found the kitten on an Amish farm in a big, old Amish barn full of kittens. We named the kitten Daphne only to later be told by a vet that Daphne was a male. It was my son who named our kitten, Tony. And Tony joined our family in early summer. Tony fit in immediately. It was as if he was custom-made for our situation. He seems to sense the meaning of the walker. He stays out of Brian's way. If he happens ...

 My son  Brian & I had been thinking about getting a kitten for the longest time but there was always a reason why we put it off. Truth is those reasons were just excuses. My excuses. The thought of bringing a kitten into our home exhausted me. I did not welcome the responsibility. Besides Brian wanting us to get a kitten, so did my two grandchildren, ages 11 and 14. I would keep telling them "Pretty soon." Then they would get busy, or I would get busy, and it never happened. Until this past week. Another summer was quickly passing by and soon, I told myself, they would not bother to ask about going for a kitten. They'd have more important things to do. And so, late one morning this past week, after telling Brian what I was up to, I picked those two grandchildren up. I said we were going to lunch and then maybe Alex Bay for the afternoon. After having our lunch, I told them I had to make a quick trip to Walmart. Once inside, I put a few things in my cart. Then I led ...

The attached photo is misleading. This post is actually about a stray cat residing out back in the barn, but I can't get close enough to 'her' to get a good picture. Why did I choose to post a photo of yummy Creamsicles? Let me tell you the story. The old barn has housed many a stray cat. Most check in for a night or so then keep on moving along. We normally don't see them again. I'm sure some have homes with heat, food, and hopefully lots of loving but despite what they have, they like to wander. Go on an adventure, then head back home for a while before going back out around the neighborhood or, in our case, back out around the fields and old barns. Last year we really took to a particular stray. Every time I would see him, I would hurry to feed him in hopes he would stay around a little longer than before. It usually worked. It got to the point where he would come up from the barn to a certain tree. Then sit there until I brought food out to him. Eventually he di...

It was another beautiful morning. I was up early-at the post office getting my mail out of my postal box when I noticed an older gentleman walking into the building. He had a cane and was wearing a face mask. As soon as he was inside, another older gentleman wearing a face mask and making copies at the copier, turned to see who was opening the door. By the boisterous hellos, it was obvious they knew each other. “Well look who’s here! How you been old guy?” “Oh you know. Tryin’ to stay home but I gotta pay my bills.” “Know just what you mean. I make copies of mine.” “I was thinkin’ earlier. This would be a great time to rob a bank! With everyone wearin’ a face mask, you’d never get caught!” They both started laughing in the old post office that had stood witness to so many catastrophic events in this country’s history. Then the older gentleman who’d walked through the door continued as he adjusted his face mask. “I’m tempted sometimes to take this thing off. ...

I loved paper dolls. I had a shoebox full of them. I kept the shoebox in the bottom drawer of an old dresser in my bedroom. Sometimes I'd sit on the floor and play out scenarios with them. I named each one of them.They were like little friends to me. None were licensed characters. None came with sparkly outfits. They were just paper dolls. And that was all I needed. Most of my paper dolls came from Newberry's or Woolworths. It was always fun when shopping for paper dolls. Of course, Santa Claus made sure to bring me even more. It was exciting when deciding which outfit each of my paper dolls would be wearing. Sometimes they'd have to change more than once during a scenario depending on what they were doing. They always had lots of fun whether going to the beach or school, on a picnic or visiting friends or taking care of their puppies or kittens. Whatever they were doing, they were fashionably dressed for the occasion. One evening, like many other evenings, I had my ...

Linus didn't invent being attached to a blanket. A little one becoming attached to a favorite baby blanket is nothing new. Whatever the reason why one particular blanket over another is the chosen blanket is anyone's guess. It could be the smell or feel of the blanket. It could be the color or a graphic sewn into the blanket. Whatever it is, the bond that forms between a child and his or her blanket is real. The bond is a close one. When everything else fails that blanket when given to a tired child will soothe that child more than a toy or a cookie or even a mother. That blanket is magic when magic is needed. And it can become a bargaining tool when the child is a little older and misbehaving. Favorite blankets come in all sorts of colors. Some are finished in satin trim. Some have teddy bears or rainbows or puppy dogs and kitten graphics. Some are handsewn. My grandmother was in the process of making my youngest a baby blanket but she passed away before finishing it....

Since being blessed with two beautiful grandchildren a tradition has taken hold and continues every year about this time. We pick a Saturday or Sunday to go out back and harvest the pumpkins. The only problem this year is the lack of pumpkins. I've only found seven and that just won't work. So this week my son and I went on a search for pumpkins. With roadside stands-commercial businesses and Amish farms, pumpkins are not hard to find. We chose to ride down a back road and find an Amish farm. And we found the perfect Amish farm. So perfect that I went back a few more times. They know me now. They wave Hi as I pull up in front of their sprawling mass of beautiful pumpkins. Of course having little Amish children running around barefoot adds to the backdrop. Soon we will be going out back to "pick" pumpkins. Little will those grandchildren know that most of those pumpkins are imports. All they will see will be a mass of orange ready to be touched and patted and brou...