These are the thoughts and observations of me — a woman of a certain age. (Oh, my, God, I'm 65!) I'm single. I'm successful enough (independent, self supporting). I live just outside Chicago, the best city in the world. I'm an aunt and a friend. I feel that voices like mine are rather underrepresented online or in print. So here I am. If my musings resonate with you, please visit my blog again sometime.
Friday, April 16, 2010
It's a beautiful day for a ball game
The Cubs broke through today, the same way the sun eventually broke through this morning's clouds. My heroes came from behind to win 7-2. D Lee, God bless him, contributed with his third homerun.
Molly's lunch
"My" homeless man hasn't been around at all this week! This worries me because the weather has been unseasonably warm and dry, so it can't be the intemperate clime that's forced him away from his spot in front of McDonald's.
But, as is the case in any big city, someone else in need is right there to take his place. This time it's Molly, a primarily white cat with gray ears and a gray tail who spends her days being clutched to the chest of either of her people -- a couple in their 20s whose sign says they are homeless due to hard times. Tuesday, when I first saw Molly, I gave her people the change I had reserved for my homeless man. Today I stopped at Walgreen's and picked up a can of Friskies for her. I spoke to her male-type person for a moment (that's how I learned her name), gave him the chicken & tuna and a dollar and told Molly lunch was on me.
Dogs and cats and kids tug at my heartstrings because they are like corks on the water, helplessly going only where the waves and we take them. Also, my Tommy was a big white cat with one black ear and a black tail, and I consider Molly's lunch a tribute to him, for he was a really great cat.
But, as is the case in any big city, someone else in need is right there to take his place. This time it's Molly, a primarily white cat with gray ears and a gray tail who spends her days being clutched to the chest of either of her people -- a couple in their 20s whose sign says they are homeless due to hard times. Tuesday, when I first saw Molly, I gave her people the change I had reserved for my homeless man. Today I stopped at Walgreen's and picked up a can of Friskies for her. I spoke to her male-type person for a moment (that's how I learned her name), gave him the chicken & tuna and a dollar and told Molly lunch was on me.
Dogs and cats and kids tug at my heartstrings because they are like corks on the water, helplessly going only where the waves and we take them. Also, my Tommy was a big white cat with one black ear and a black tail, and I consider Molly's lunch a tribute to him, for he was a really great cat.
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