Author: Katherine J Krein

Mischief, secrecy, allure- a few cat traits with special powers.

They prowl at night, sometimes with companions, but mostly alone.

It is in their nature to hunt.

They can sense with their ears, eyes, and noses even the slightest of moves.

They slink with padded paws and claws retracted. They spot their prey and get into position.

They hunch down to maximize their spring, their long jump.

Their whiskers twitch, emitting a low, barely audible, grumble or growl, their mental preparation for battle.

They make their move suddenly with claws in air, outstretched to the max.

Unsuspecting prey will fall swiftly trapped within claws and paws.

With a cat in the garden all rodents must be on high alert.

Birds must stay in the air, high enough to avoid a cat’s high powered leap.

The birds are experienced with tracking the cat’s every move. The young and old are the most at risk.

Cat kills or trophies are often left in the most visible of places–a silent brag, a warning to all. It is the cat’s territorial claim.

Once the hunter within is satisfied, they turn on their disguise. They clean themselves up and find a nice warm spot to stretch out and relax.

They turn on their purrrrrr and look as innocent as can be.

*This poem was inspired by recent events in my garden. KJHK

Those left behind can still be seen by some.

They have scars on their faces and rasps in their voices.

They don’t look you in the eye.

Is it shame or is it pride?

They wear attitude as their armor.

Their memories can drag them down if they dwell in the past.

Their survival relies on moving and adapting, often under the radar.

Hearts are fragile, so thick skin can serve as some protection.

Their journeys can take them into dark corners.

They must struggle to stay in the light.

They don’t take or carry pictures.

They have learned that forgetting is often better than remembering.

The tomatoes, peppers, sweet basil, and rosemary have been planted.

The flower pots are assembled. Filling them with an explosion of color, texture, and form celebrates the season.

The weeds are ever-present, always defying their classification.

“We have a right to be here”, they shout.

The sun and heat dominates the season. When the summer breeze comes around it is welcomed with open arms.

Summer storms with thunder and lightning can bring some relief, as cooler air usually ushers them out.

Bugs multiply this time of year, or so it seems.

The summer garden is a home to fireflies that entertain us when the sun goes down.

Often the smell of BBQ fills the air and spreads anticipation of savory spices and flavors.

Nice cool beverages bring body temperature relief, and often mellow out the day.

Going to bed at night with the windows open lets the pond frogs and toads serenade me to sleep.

I am thankful for summer days and nights.

When a mirrored reflection breaks all you can see is shards,

Pieces of broken glass that can shatter and scatter, dangerous and sharp.

When this mirrored reflection breaks you are left standing.

You can choose to move to other mirrors or you can find a water reflection.

A wall of mirrors can capture you in separate frames, though

They cannot see you between the frames.

Your existence is outside and beyond all the frames.

You can move away if you choose.

You can choose to stand still and watch yourself all day or choose to watch others watching themselves.

You can challenge yourself to move and reach beyond all reflections.

You can work to build something less breakable.

You can focus your attention on something else that lives beyond the frames,

Something that can stand or withstand, (depending on your own perspective),

The test of time.

Be Bold. Always Be Authentic.

I woke up this morning with these thoughts and decided to write them down.

Remember a train of thought can flow without stops, and sometimes without pauses.

An unadulterated randomness, a gallery of senses, a diversity of colors and textures

Sensations of pleasure, spine tingling, hair raising

Visualizing a readiness, anticipation, an upward surge

A wide open intake, a heightening of input, smooth running,

No clogged lines, everything has been purged.

Precision. Efficiency. No knots, no baggage, no hard feelings or hurt.

Setting oneself free. A total release.

Winter arrived with her chilling winds and frost.

The Green Man held on until the calendar and clock made it clear his time was up.

Icicles can be seen outside the kitchen window. The sharp and pointy daggers keep me inside. The warmth from the oven and the smell of cinnamon comfort me.

I wonder where the Green Man has gone. I know he will return when the seasons grant his entry. My memory of his curlicue mustache and his long nimble fingers, digging in the fertile earth, keeping the garden alive and growing, will stay with me, and give me hope through the shivering months to come.

As 2021 comes to an end, I feel grateful, although it has been a tough year.

As I ran errands, and shopped for food and presents this holiday season, I saw evidence of several closed businesses, and I saw evidence of new beginnings and new shops. Sorrow and hope has mixed together in this tumultuous year. Change is definitely in the air.

Redefining goals and expectations can work out to be beneficial for most people. As an older woman, I have confronted age discrimination this year, and this has been disheartening, especially coming from a woman, not far behind me in age. I have to remind myself that discrimination often stems from fear.

I have been encountering more older workers out in the workforce helping me in stores, and other places. I have to say that they have given me above average service, sometimes bordering on unbelievably good compared to what is expected these days.

Women and age expectations are a problem. I have known several women of child-bearing age that do not desire to have children or to be married. Sometimes they are pestered by friends or family about their plans for children or whether they have a special man in their life. Leave them alone, and do not ask the questions you know make them feel uncomfortable.

I wish people could really see each other as individuals, apart from societal expectations. Let people be themselves. Respect individual decisions. Just because a person does not follow social guidelines in their personal lives, it does not mean that they are a threat to you.

My eyes have been opened wide this year, and I cannot say that all that I have seen has been pleasant. However, it has given me a renewed gratefulness for things that I have taken for granted in the past.

I see the year 2022 as a year of hope. Change is inevitable with everything that has happened in our nation and worldwide since the arrival of Covid-19.

I, for one, will say thanks, and give thanks, and feel grateful for all that I have in my life. I do also hope to share more with those less fortunate than myself.

Not all traditions should be honored. Some long held beliefs and customs serve only a select group. And some spread a feeling of hope and goodwill for all people. Hold onto the latter ones.

Traditions are hard to break. We are all taught from birth to respect the way of life of our families and communities. These relationships, and the habits they create, form the framework of our lives. The threat of being ostracized is ever-present. Our places seem to be predetermined.

I went to college because everyone in my immediate family was either in college or had graduated with a degree or two. I was and still am the youngest. I could have benefited from waiting until I had a better idea of what I wanted to do with my life. I don’t remember feeling like I had an option. In any case, I attended and graduated without any honors. I felt lucky to have a diploma after four years. I think I was an embarrassment to my father.

The good news is my life has progressed down the road of life, and now a little more than forty years later, I can say I have learned many things in my life, and most of these things have been taught out of school.

I always marvel at people who say that if they had to live their life over again, they would not change a thing. I can’t help but think that they are either lying, delusional, or possibly they have led an exceptionally rare life. I think most people would change something along the way. Though, this might require hindsight or foresight, depending on where you are standing.

But then again, remembering the ripple effect of any change, I might hesitate. The whole trajectory could be vastly different than it is now. There is no guarantee that some wiser choices would have landed me in a better place.

So, here I am on the eve of Christmas Eve, planning and executing the special meals I will be cooking over the next several days. I cooked a seafood stew the day after Thanksgiving. It was such a success with my husband and daughter, I will be cooking it again tomorrow, and I also hope to make a peppermint cheesecake. The recipe does not use cream cheese; instead, it uses a light Ricotta cheese. I will post a picture if I am successful.

P.S. The above picture was posted the day after writing this.

This Thanksgiving is a celebration of the simple things in life: a windowsill, a Sunday morning breakfast, a good cup of coffee.

The sun is shining. A grocery trip is being planned. A list is being made. I’m thinking ahead to cooler days of oven cooking.

The holiday season is upon us once again.

The jars of Jet-Puffed marshmallow creme are waiting to be made into a walnut fudge. This is a tribute to my father, he was a Christmas candy-maker.

My husband is a bread-maker. He likes to grind the fresh wheat berries into flour. He has not made any in awhile.

Once again our holiday decorations will be simple. A table top tree will suffice. The bird ornaments go with all our natural decor.

The spirit of the season is alive and well. Giving thanks for all the bounty of life, and for my loved ones around me.

Next month a special birthday will be celebrated. Tradition will be honored as the spirit of giving continues.