La vie en rose....

 I was going through some old pictures and found one that brought back a veritable flood of memories.  

When I lived alone in my studio apartment in Manhattan, back in the late 70s, early 80s...I was working full time but also going part time to Hunter College.  I was surrounded by people all day, yet, there were times when I felt lonely.

I knew some people in my building, but they weren't "friends" per se.  Acquaintances.  And I knew the other gals in the medical office I worked in, but they didn't live in the city and one was engaged, another was married.  And I didn't find anyone at school to connect with, either.

So, I packed myself off to a couple of "events" at the 92nd Street "Y" which was just around the corner from me.  A couple of times some ladies there tried to hook me up with their sons.  Nerp.  

Then, one evening...there was another young woman.  We started talking.  She was French.  She was in NY for a "semester" of in-house experience.  Not sure if I recall correctly, but I think it was a perfume company.  She was lucky that she had an aunt who lived in Flushing Meadow, near the site of the 1964 World's Fair, where the Unisphere still stands.

Her name was Annie, Annie Bollard.  And although I knew she was only going to be around temporarily, we hit it off immediately.  Her English wasn't perfect and luckily I remembered quite a bit of my high school French at that time...so we understood each other quite perfectly with our "Franglish."

We were together most weekends.  Sometimes we would walk along the "fancy" streets, Madison and Fifth Avenue.  As the weather got warmer, we would go to the park, strolling or sometimes lying down in the grass, staring up at the leaves and the sky.

We would also noodle around Greenwich Village, we would go to the movies (she LOVED getting ice in her drinks!) or we would get some ice cream.  

One time we explored Chinatown.  On a whim we decided to go into a restaurant.  I forget what I ordered (I was not and still am not adventurous when it comes to food.) But Annie ordered some kind of fish.  I will never forget the look of total horror on her face as the waiter put down her plate.  All the color drained from her face and she just sat there with her eyes wide as saucers and said "No...no.....no....no."  It was an entire fish...eyes, head...scales...a freaking fish.  I explained to the waiter that she must have misunderstood what the menu said....they were very gracious and brought her something else.

We had a "sleepover" at her aunt's apartment.  As if we were still teenage girls.  We had snacks and watched TV and talked and talked and talked. 

It was painful to realize that she would be going back to France.  At that time I doubted I would ever have the money or the nerve to travel overseas.  I had met the young man who was going to become my husband and father of my child and Annie was happy that I had someone to be with and to be happy with.  

                                                             Annie and me, 1981.

Seeing the one and only picture I have of her brought it all back.  I'm so sorry we lost touch (it wasn't as easy back then) and looking at the photo made me miss her all over again.

Our house...is a very, very fine house....

 I went to the local animal rescue and was looking for a kitten.  I wanted an orange kitten, one that would sort of, but not really, "replace" Huey.  Well...that is not the way the world works...nor should it.  I went to the local animal rescue and there was only one cage of kittens.  Three or four....not sure now.  Anyway, the others huddled in the back and only one came forward.  He definitely was NOT orange.  He was a gray and white splotchy baby....adorable....and he played with my fingers.   OK.  This one.

Rathbone.

Rathbone was a wonderful boy.  Laid back.  Sweet, easy. He let my young daughter put him in a bassinette, in a "shopping cart"...dear god, she put make-up on him.  She danced with him, she slept with him.  He was the perfect cat.

His fur was slightly longer than the average cat.  Just a bit.  And it was silky.  My daughter called him "the VERY softest place."  He was.   

Boney.  Rathbone.  Such a wonderful boy.

And somehow, whenever I pet Scruffy, I think of Rathbone.  Scruff is gray and striped.  He doesn't look at ALL like Bone.  But...he's soft.  Oh!  SOOO soft.  Scruff feels like a bunny.  His coat, like Rathbone's is just a tad longer than usual. His isn't silky, like Rathbone's, but soft, fluffy...fluffy Scruffy.  

Yeah...this boy  Bunny fur.  Super softee.  AND he is mellow like Bone.  I doubt that that is a trait of soft furred cats, but it is in this house.  Mellow and accepting and yet, the leader.  

I adored my Huey, but Rathbone and Scruff have filled his shoes (paws?) in ways I never imaginged.

I wish I was....homeward bound

 I've mentioned before...there is a cat outside.  Not every day, but nearly.  Looks clean and well fed, but still, I hate to see cats outside and now it is getting cold.  And I can't help but wonder where on earth this cat goes when it rains. 

I thought it was a male, but....one day out of the blue the cat appeared in our kitchen window, sitting on the ledge outside.  I had to herd my clowns out of the vicinity...thank goodness there is a door just outside the kitchen, closing off both the kitchen and living room.

We thought about opening the window and letting this cat in.  But where would we put this obviously lonely fella?  I texted my upstairs neighbor.  She must have looked out her window and saw our visitor...."Oh, that's Paulina."  Paulina?  Its a girl???  And my neighbor said she "belongs" to the woman next door.  The only problem is, there is no one precisely "next door."  The place is empty and being rehabbed inside and out from past earthquake damage.  There is scaffolding up all over, which I think is how Paulina made it over to our window.

This is not her, but it looks like her.  She sat there for quite a while, talking and making biscuits.  Tearing my freaking heart out!!

Whenever I look out and see her, she turns?  Does she have a sixth sense?  How can she possibly know I'm in the window?  

And now it's raining and cold.  I worry about her.  I wonder if I bought a portable, insulated shelter...if the actual "owner" would use it for her?  Or, does she have someplace to go?  Is the owner still in the neighborhood?  Or does a friend fill in?  IDK.  All I DO know is, she tugs at my heartstrings and I wish I could help.

There she is, on the wall at the right.

When You Wish Upon a Star

 My mother did the Christmas decorating the day after Thanksgiving.  That was way back before "Black Friday" was a thing.  NOTHING was open on the Friday after Thanksgiving except maybe the movies.  

Anyway, one of my favorite decorations was a star my mother always put up right in the center of the living room entry.   It was large-ish...sparkly, or just shiny....and all pink.

It disappeared when we moved to Long Island.  

As an adult, I looked around for a star that I could hang somewhere, hoping to find something similar to the one I remembered.  I never had any luck.  

That is....until MANY years later, after moving to California, then Michigan and then getting divorced after 20 years.  I needed to get out of the midwest, I needed to go home.  So I moved child, dogs, cats and a fish back to the city.  Except this time I couldn't afford Manhattan.  My city had changed.  I wound up in Queens.  

After several years in Astoria, Queens....I had a new beau.  And we went Christmas wandering...just looking at what was around, enjoying the "vibe," the lights across the streets, the lights in the stores.  A couple of times we wandered into a store.  And there they were.....STARS!!

A bit flashier than my mother's, but times change.  I had to have one.  In fact, I bought two. 

I still have the second one in its wrapper.  I wonder if my daughter will take it.  She has the kind of bohemian taste where she could pull off having the star up all year long.  

I don't know...it just makes me feel connected...to my past, to THE past, to what used to be.  And for some absolutely incomprehensible reason it makes me happy, even though things with my family didn't turn out that way.  It evokes a happier time, when I felt safe.

Are the stars out tonight?

 At our former address, we used to love sitting out on the balcony even after it got dark.  The expanse of sky before us, the town to the left.  The parking lot, especially during the summer, was obscured by trees and greenery.

That all changed when the parking lot was expanded to three times its original size.  Trees were felled, bushes removed, earth turned over...and LOTS more streetlights installed.  Between the noise and commotion during the day and the extra light at night, we no longer lingered out there.

Then, when the back wall started to crack...well, I wouldn't go out there if you paid me.

Here, we don't have outdoor space.  There are tiny little balconies, if you can call them that, outside the two back double doors.  They are really for plants, not people.  Besides, with six cats, those little "balconies" are not going to be open.  

But there are advantages here.  More space, overall.  More light, because there are twice as many windows and most of the windows are as large as patio doors or they ARE patio doors.  The cats love it here.  They have umpteen places to sleep and lots of room to play, which they sometimes do with abandon and lots of sunbathing to do.

Like most older people, I usually have to get up in the wee small hours and head to the bathroom.  Sometimes, when I do, I will check on the clowns to see where they are.  And sometimes, I will look out the kitchen window which faces the mountains and has a view of the sky.  I've mentioned discovering the moon before.  Such a delight to see a big, full moon over the hills and mountains. 

I was gazing out the other night...no moon as yet...but the sky was completely clear and the stars were very bright.  And I found myself looking at Orion!  There he was, the warrior, right THERE in front of me...I haven't seen a constellation in years!!!  It reminded me of California, up in the hills outside San Francisco, where the skies were clear and full of stars.  Wow!!  Orion!  Long time, no see!  I didn't want to go back to bed.

And today we get a sink in the back bathroom and a new kitchen faucet.  A new round of upgrades is in motion.  I see a new rheumatologist in a week or so, too.  I intend to speak my mind. I want very much to feel better and be able to walk about town once again.

Maybe it isn't so bad here after all.

M - O- U- S - E!!!!

 Scruffy.  He was the kitten I wanted first. I fixed his goopy eyes when he was just 3 months old.  He scrammed out the door but came back the next day....eyes wide open and schmoozed me for the first time.  He understood.

Scruff is 6 years old now.  No, he wasn't the first in the door.  Not my fault and not at all what I wanted.  Missy Tee marched in the door all by herself.  "Honey!  I'm home!"

Calzini succumbed to temptation...TUNA!!..and got trapped in the cage.  Imp was terribly sick and near death.  Finally...finally....Scruffy!!!

So, here we are a bit more than 5 years later.  And Scruff is (and probably was always meant to be) the quintessential housecat.  He hardly ever sits in windows....only sometimes.  He loves to snuggle,  He shows up for breakfast (which is critical because he has feline asthma and I put his medication in his food).  AND he loves to play with toys.  But not just any toy.  No.  It HAS to be "Mousie."

There have been various incarnations of Mousie along the way.  It was inevitable, after all.  One gets lost forever...who knows where?  One loses its eyes, ears, tail and most otf its covering....ugh.  So, it has been necessary to replace "Mousie" from time to time and hope he accepts the newcomer.  

I found "mousies" online..similar...and they were filled with catnip.  I tried it.  Well, yay, he was happy.....but only, as usual, with ONE.  What is the special magic, Scruff????

But what this boy does with THE ONE is incredible, especially considering he is 6 now!  These floors are shiny and slick, so when he bats it, Mousey goes FLYING....ZOOM!!!  But he also gets up on hind legs and slam dunks it or sends it across the room....I have found Mousie on the kitchen counter, under furniture (most common) inside shoes, on the bed, and, sadly, in their water bowl, requiring a 2 day dry out.  He's hilarious.  Bend it like Beckham, boy!!  

We have about twice the space here, so he is having a blast.  AND his asthma is better here.  He hasn't had any bad attacks.  I think because ...more space, the ceilings are higher, more windows and there is no one (teens who used to hang out under our balcony on the passaggiatta) smoking nearby.  Less car exhaust, too.  So, the air is cleaner and he is more comfortable.  So am I.  I am considering lowering his already low dose of medication even lower and skipping a day here and there.  I will see how it goes.

No one would ever guess this sweet baby had ever been a street cat.

And speaking of street cats!

The street cats still left at the former domicile are being cared for by our former neighbors.  We provide the food and they do the feeding.  It IS a protected colony.

BUT, there is someone back here....there is a house next door, with a garden...no one there because the place is being rehabbed periodically and sporadically (I don't understand how things work here, exactly) but there is no one there except when there are workmen.  There were guys doing stuff inside during the summer, now there is a big scaffolding up...3 stories...perhaps to work on the roof...I have no idea.  They put up the scaffolding and disappeared.

BUT there had been a cat out there since we moved in.  And when we moved in, I noticed a bowl on the ground....so, whoever did/does live there....they knew this boy came by.  He must be a boy...he is LARGE, like Percy....maybe 20 lbs or more...but he is white with patches of tortoise shell in black and gray.  He is a gorgeous cat.  

Since naming more than 20 cats over the last several years, this one just became, (I'm sorry to say) Fatso Catso.  Yep.  Fatso Catso.  He comes to nap.  Sometimes he plays with butterflies or just stands on the wall in the back and looks at the view.  Recently, I saw him lounging on the scaffolding, since the garden was in the shade and the scaffold still had sunshine, keeping him warm.

I'm certain he is another unneutered male...the macho in this country sometimes drives me nuts....but he seems, like Calzini's dad, a nice cat, nevertheless.  So, I look for him every day.  He doesn't always show up.  Clearly, he doesn't need feeding.  That's a relief.  

He has seen us.  He knows we are here.  I can't stand people who just let their cats roam and whatever.  They are DOMESTIC PETS.  TAKE CARE OF THEM!!!!

Splish splash, I was takin' a bath....

 Sooooo...we moved.  And, as far as we could tell, there was only one "working" bathroom.  We originally saw this place on a chilly, rainy day and since no one had lived here for about a year, there was no water, no electricity..nothing.  We were "shown" the bathroom, conveniently across from the bedroom...and it looked "normal" albeit with a bathtub that was somewhat small, but this is Europe.  These things happen.  And we didn't have a flashlight.

Sooooo, turns out, after we moved in, we discovered that said "bathtub" had TWO levels.  An upper level that would have been fine as a seat.....IF it had even been remotely possible to STAND in the lower level.  BUT the lower level is cupped, like a fucking tulip.  Seriously.  Who?  How?  What????

Sooooo, the era of sponge baths ensued.  

Finally, we were able to have a guy come over who owns a contracting company.  Young guy, very nice, personable.  And he speaks English as well as Italian.  Turns out he lived in the US for some years!! His father moved the family there from South America. 

After discussing, it was decided that the SECOND bathroom in the back would be better suited to an immediately working shower.  First a large and heavy (and ugly) dry sink had to be removed (and is still sitting in the back) but that provided the water source.  On the other side there is a toilet and bidet and the bidet could have been removed, but this is another room with a curved ceiling, so a shower would be impossible.  

They took out the sink, put in the shower, fixed up the wall and we also replaced the double door to a small balcony, so there are no drafts, leaks or bugs.  

The work has stopped next door, there is no one there.  I love taking a shower midday, when the sun is shining in.  It almost feels like a spa.  Those doors, even when shut, will tilt in on the right, just enough to get a breeze, some fresh air.  

Yes, we have a curtain, and when it starts getting dark, or if and when someone is ever next door, of course, it will be closed, for the most part.  But right now I am loving this feeling of being bathed in sunshine with all the greenery outside while showering.  It reminds me of the years that I would take my daughter to the water park in Michigan.  We could rent a tube for the day, there was an area to sit under umbrella and have lunch or a snack.  There was a wave pool and a water slide.  She loved it, I loved it.  

Eventually we will remove the bidet and put in a sink, hang a mirror and voila!  

Eventually we will rehab the stupid bilevel tub.  Eventually......  hopefully within a year.  Eventually every room, other than the bedroom which is done, needs to be painted.  But, hallelujah, I am clean.  Yippee!!