Dreams of Water

Thursday, January 04, 2007

Okay, I’ll Write Something

Part of the reason it’s difficult for me to write on my home computer, where I am now, is I’m running out of hard drive space. My computer is a hand-me-down, a kind gift from my future sister-in-law. And all I really do is word processing, so I’m amazed that I’m running out of disk space already. Someone who’s good at computers would probably easily clean up the excess baggage in my computer and make it work quickly, and there would be no more problems with my home computer—but I still prefer a wonderful, new, computer that allows me to access everything quickly, organize all my files easily, and even allow me to do desktop publishing.

I’ll tell you who loves my computer—it’s Ali. She jumps on the keyboard just to watch the computer screen turn on. One day I turned off the screen to make the living room dark, and Ali jumped on the keyboard, stared at the computer screen; when the screen didn’t turn on, she jumped again. Still nothing. Next she jumped on the top of the monitor and looked down at the screen to check it. Nothing. She continued to jump on the monitor until she finally decided to give up. The next day, I turned the monitor back on, and Ali jumped up on the keyboard, the screen came up, and she was content. Even now as I type she jumps on the keyboard occasionally, and I have to fix her typos. She’s watching the curser go back and forth across the screen. At least one of us loves technology. Even when I print, Ali goes to the printer and sits where the paper comes out and watches the printer until I move her, of course.lko
\]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]l,;
poooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo
ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo
ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo
ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo
ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo
ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo
ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo
ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo
oooooooooooooooooo

The above message is from Ali. (I added the returns to straighten out the layout on my blog--the cat's not that good). I find it appropriate that she wrote “poo.” Anyway, Ali and Fruity aren’t my only beastly buddies any more. When my mother died my sister took, Tia, my mom’s Chihuahua home along with my sister’s yappy dogs—a Shelty and a Pomeranian. You’d think Tia would fit right in, but she didn’t. She kept escaping the fenced kennel, and risked her own and Macy’s (the Pomeranian’s) lives on the highway. Tia is here with me now. It’s taken over a week for the two cats to start to tolerate her, but now they don’t fight so much, and Tia—a perpetually nervous dog—doesn’t shake as much as she did at first. Sometimes, she even seems happy.

Well, yappy dogs aren’t really my type of dog, mostly because I have a high-maintenance, high-strung, nervous, and sensitive personality, and yappy dogs are just a doggy version of my already difficult personality. Who needs that? I prefer a German Shepherd, or a big, smart, sweet mutt like my dog, Bummer, who died two summers ago. But I love Tia, though. And I mean that. A year ago, my mother’s partner of over five years died of bone cancer. Tia lay beside Alf every moment he was sick and stayed with him as he died. When my mother became ill, Tia did the same. She barely left my mother’s side, and when my mother was dying, Tia was there beside her along with us, and she knew exactly what was happening.

Now Tia is orphaned, and I’m going to take care of her as best I can. I do hope she and the cats become friends and start to be really nice to each other so they can all be happy. I think in time they will.

Well, there you have it, a long, strange, maybe boring blog entry. But at least I wrote something, right?

Oh yeah, I don’t know what in the hell is going on with the image icon on Google Blogger. I just don’t have one, so I can’t upload pictures. As soon as it appears though, or as soon as I find it, I’ll upload some more paintings.

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