On this very foggy morning while looking through FB memories a picture taken long ago at my grandparent's home came up. The scene, their dining room. In memories eye, I thought that was the biggest and grandest dining room ever! We could squish in and several immediate families of the family would eat together over Grandma's fried chicken and her homemade yeast rolls. The kitchen was abuzz in preparation, with grandma, aunts, and my mom getting everything together and finetuned to present on the table. Over in the living room, all the men sat around talking, waiting for the call to approach the table. Us kids, I don't remember where we were but I do know we knew enough not to get underfoot. Once we were around the table my grandfather or uncle voiced our prayer. Don't think my father ever prayed before the meal with all the family. I don't remember any of the women praying or giving thanks before a meal, but I will tell you when I prayed. If I was in the car when my grandmother drove. Whew! Always left the car with some bruising, being thrown into the passenger door with her wide swinging turns and not so smooth braking. You could get the whiplash. Nobody was wearing seatbelts back then. I don't think they were even installed yet in cars. When I was younger and the meal was just my grandparents and me, Grandma while frying chicken told me that hers was so good because she was from Kentucky and that the Colonel Sanders had stolen her recipe. You know, I believed that for years and years.
After several hours at the Vet office, Roy and GMoey returned home a little tired. X-Rays, bloodwork, and the like revealed nothing but maybe an upset stomach. They gave him some meds and Roy brought home a free can of cat food. I would like it duly noted that was an expensive can of free cat food. This morning GMoey is lively and of bright countenance. Hasn't thrown up. We are regulating his dish time. I think that is the one thing that a rescued feral cat will not give up, eating like there might not ever be another meal. Willie while always being a friendly cat with us, really hasn't until recently sought us out except when he thinks there might be food involved. Within the past week or so, he comes to us for a little bit of scratchies and pets. It is a beginning. He is the only one that is difficult to catch or even find if there is a trip to the Vet involved. He was so little and on his own because his mom died. He kept to himself because she kept him separated from the other cats. The morning I picked him up and put him inside my jacket I knew he had to come inside. He didn't fight me or be sassy, he just leaned in like he had finally found hope.
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A trip to Hendersonville yesterday on I 26 was rather pleasant. You don't get to say that very often. Not too much traffic. While Roy was seeing Dr Andy, I went over to Southern Chicks. Boy, they have beautiful lamps which are out of my price range and they had a beautiful stretched canvas picture of sheep in a pasture but we don't have enough wall space for it. I ended up with a couple of mugs and a wooly sheep. Then I ran over to Ingles for Pepsi Zero. Timed it perfectly cause Roy was finished about the time I was paying for the Pepsi. We went back to Ingles on our way home to pick up some orange drinks, then came on back home. It had been such a good temperature in Hendersonville that we talked about doing some outside chores but when we got home, it was windy and rather cool, so we punted those plans to the curb.
It was a strange night in that with rain and other outdoor sounds, they kept me awake. I even woke up Roy once, and then he kind of dismissed it all, so.... I realized a little later a lot of the sounds I was hearing, not from outside but inside. The Boys in the bonus room and the snores from Roy in our bedroom. Roy was especially snoring, loudly. He doesn't snore that much anymore but when he does...I certainly know about it. He asked me last week what I thought about when someone uses the term alert, other than breaking news alert. My response, when your wife hears a noise in the middle of the night, the husband, goes from deep sleep to very alert. Well, he didn't particularly like that example and now I know why.
GMoey is doing well and we have discovered the best way to feed him is little meals throughout the day. He only had one accident and that at night when he could get to Willie's and Mr Mo's food. He is playful and engaged in chasing and playing.
We got our haircut and then ran over to Publix. The aggressive old people must have been there earlier. Not too bad of a shopping trip. Quick stop at Ingle's and we returned home. Yes, we live the high life.
I want to stay up and watch Feud, Truman Capote and the Swans he betrayed. Feud is being like the Original Housewives, but these rich and socialite women couldn't be construed as housewives. I know I will not make it and hopefully it will be on demand sooner than later. We don't have Hulu or I could watch it there. I have read a couple of books about this time in social history, very 1960's. The interest for me is the social dynamics and the power of small groups over many. The bait of course is wanting to be a part of the group. Over the years I have observed some of the best and some of the most haphazard small groups command and dominate. What is inevitable is this, all that comes to an end and picking up the pieces is difficult for some while others go out and create another group in which to have a coup d'etat, which isn't really the correct usage but that's all I've got mentally today. I just read reviews of Feud and they aren't very good. Slow moving plot is one of the chief complaints. Glad, I went to sleep instead of pushing through to stay up. Eastern Time Zone is difficult at times.
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