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October, 2013

You can trust me.

“Please… take me with you! I want to live with you in California. I’ve already packed some toiletries and I know there’s room in your purse. I’ll be good. Look at this innocent face. You can trust me. Puh-leeeze?!

Do I look like I would eat your tomatoes and peaches and pomegranates? No way!   I have food allergies. Eat a peach and I’ll blow up like a balloon. Besides, I’m not really a squirrel – I’m a cat.  This is a Halloween costume. Booo! Now open up that purse!”


Road Trip

Denis and I are on a road trip to the east coast. What better time to come east but when the trees are ablaze with colors like this. We started in Washington, DC and then we went on to New York City. This tree was in Central Park. I got right under the tree and kept looking up at it – I couldn’t believe how beautiful it was. But my joy was short-lived. When I looked down, guess who was there to welcome me to New York?

“Hi, Jenny! I’ve been waiting for you. My cousin back in L.A. texted me that you were coming. Did you bring me any snacks? Any tomatoes? Peaches? …No? No problem. Just open up your purse, I’ll jump in and go back  with you! After I eat all your peaches, can we go to Disneyland?” How about you jump in my purse and I catapult it across the Hudson River, you mangy, rat-faced, no-good, low-life, beady-eyed, scum-sucking, vacation-ruining squirrel!


Beauty and the Beast

Is he looking at me or not? This praying mantis was hanging out on the side of a hummingbird feeder all day. When I got close, he kept tilting his head around  and I never knew when he was looking at me. See those little black dots inside the big green orbs on the corners of his head? I think they were moving around. So we had a staring contest. But I don’t know who won because I don’t know if he was really looking. But he was still there when I left so I guess he won.

Oh, this guy showed up, too. It was not nearly as much fun taking his picture and I promise I did not get as close. It was a zoom lens! This was our 4th scorpion since living here in the southern California hills. At least it’s the 4th one we’ve seen. I’m pretty sure there are more out there. It was scary. I need taller boots. And bigger cojones.


Satan’s Tilt-a-Whirl


When I heard the county fair was coming to town, I marked it on the calendar. THIS is the day I will ride my Tilt-a-Whirl. I planned it months ago and even got a confirmation that they indeed had a Tilt-a-Whirl from someone who was there. So last Thursday, we headed to the L.A. County Fair.

It was an hour’s drive but I didn’t care. My Tilt-a-Whirl was there. It was the only reason Denis was willing to drive for an hour and be there on a hot and windy day. As if the amusement ride wouldn’t be enough, we arrived and went to get tickets and guess what? Senior Discount!!

Once we were in Denis said, “Do you want to go see the animals first?” “No. Tilt-a-Whirl.” “How about the prize winning pies? You love to bake.” “No. Tilt-a-Whirl.” I had a singular goal and nothing was going to slow me down. I thought I would ride five times, twice right away, go see the animals, two more rides, then the pies, and one more ride before we left.

This Tilt-a-Whirl wasn’t the traditional red but it was even prettier, painted in pink and purple. As if this wasn’t the best day ever (no traffic + senior discount) there was hardly anybody on the ride! No line at all. Denis bought some ride tickets, and I saw only two cars with other riders so I could pick any of the other cars. Denis got the camera ready while I handed the ride operator (let’s call him “Satan”) my tickets.

“You can’t ride,” said Satan. “WHAT? Why not?” “No single riders,” Satan replied. “But there’s nobody here,” I said, “That’s for when there’s a line. I drove an hour to ride this Tilt-a-Whirl. Most of the cars are empty.” “No, you can’t ride,” said Satan, “No single riders.” Denis offered to ride with me but I was wearing a nice shirt and didn’t want him throwing up on it. It was a long, sad, ride home. Satan could probably get a job at a restaurant and if Jesus himself walked in he’d say, “Sorry. No shirt, no shoes, no service.”