Author: Rebecca

One thing you forget about kittens when you’ve had older cats for some time is how curious they are when they’re young, and how mischievous.

We have a huge umbrella plant (it’s more a tree than a plant at this point) that started out in a standard 4 or 5 inch pot we picked up at some greenhouse or grocery store plant sale several years ago. Jim’s cut it back two or three times now in the last couple of years and it’s thriving.

Last year we got a couple of new kittens from the shelter, pretty Maine Coon mixes ~ having forgotten about kittens’ affection for climbing into, onto, around, over, and through almost anything. You, no doubt, begin to see the problem.

Well, Hugo managed to take the plant down the other day, big ceramic pot, heavy wrought iron plant stand and all. When I found out about it, I was instantly ticked. (I find it by turns annoying and hilarious that this dictation program won’t let me swear ~ or at least won’t transcribe my swears. Prude.)

Irrational, I know. He’s a kitten, for all he weighs 13 pounds and thinks he’s a miniature panther. And he’s his own person, who will, one hopes, chill out as he gets older and become more cuddly, like our other kitten, Harlequin, aka Mei Mei [“little sister”].

One also hopes he will lose interest in climbing to the top of whatever surface you are around (he has separation anxiety issues ~ you should see him try to hold the door closed when I get ready to leave the house) but for now the problem remains.

Solution: new plant stand ~ something more sturdy with a broader base that would be less easy to pull over ~ and that idea was buzzing around in the back of my mind when I went to spend the morning with my sister, Cherie.

I was still simmering about the whole thing and didn’t want to have to spend the money for the kind of planter that I would want in my bedroom because my silly cat couldn’t learn to stay out of the tree that the umbrella plant had become.

So, as I often do when I’m looking for something that hasn’t quite taken complete shape in my mind (and just because it’s fun), I decided to go to the perennial garage sale on Chestnut and look around and see what they had in the way of planters. I didn’t really hold out much hope for finding what I was looking for ~ the inventory at the perennial garage sale is naturally fluid ~ but what the heck.

I was telling Cherie what I wanted, telling her the story of my evil cat Hugo, and she was laughing, of course, but what she was also doing as we looked and talked was helping me to visualize what I needed ~ something that the ceramic pot would set down in, giving it more stability, but still tall enough that the plant would get the sunlight it needs, something nice-looking, in keeping with what I loosely call the décor of our home.

We wandered through the warehouse ~ run by a local businessman and staffed by volunteers to benefit the Boys and Girls Clubs ~ seeing a few plant stands and tables but nothing quite right. We were wandering through for the second or third time, talking about what else might work, when we found one lone cafe stool in a dusty row of barstool-high seats.

Black wrought iron with a wicker back panel in good shape, a wicker seat that had begun to come unraveled, and it was missing both the rubber feet on the right side

Perfect.

After 45 minutes or so, and with the aid of some old clothes pins that turned out to be the perfect diameter, the old café stool was transformed into the perfect plant stand, made entirely of re-purposed materials. My friend Katie R., re-purposing genius, will be so proud of me!

Old café stool: $3 (that will go to a good cause).

Spending the morning with my sister, laughing and talking and, between us, finding such a cool a solution; and transforming  an old stool destined for the landfill into a beautiful, sturdy, almost elegant, plant stand (that Hugo would have to be a real panther to knock over):     Priceless.

See you on the green ~

Rebecca

Every time someone calls the President “Obama” like they went to high school with him (and didn’t like him then, either), I wince.

I’m not surprised ~ the mainstream media do it all the time, speak of the President (and most everything and everyone else) with this fundamental lack of respect. Because they do and because we as a culture take our standards for acceptable behavior from them, we do it, too.

Unfortunately, the discourtesy and disrespect doesn’t only flow outwards. Refusing, even unconsciously, to accord others the simple respect of their office or accomplishments or even just because they are thinking, feeling human beings just like you, quietly but inexorably erodes your own respect for yourself.

But, you might ask, what if it turns out that the other person doesn’t “deserve” your respect? So what?

Like love, courtesy and respect are not diminished by you giving them away, regardless of the perceived worthiness of the recipient. Like love, the more courtesy and respect you give to others, the more you have within and for yourself.

It would be nice if we all had a Dumbledore, wouldn’t it? The headmaster who insisted that young Harry refer to Professor Snape by his title instead of just his surname.

I didn’t think much about it at the time, but now ~ in a time when, on a daily basis, I see increasing evidence of the ease with which people dismiss others  as somehow less worthy, less valuable ~ it occurs to me that the headmaster insisted on that measure of respect from Harry not for Professor Snape, who was usually not present for these conversations, but for Harry himself, to preserve Harry’s self respect.

It wouldn’t be the first instance of art imitating life, nor the last instance, one hopes, of art being instructive in a positive way. The instruction, again by example, is to treat others with courtesy and respect, even when they aren’t present, to give people the benefit of the doubt, to assume others have the same feelings and sensibilities that you do and treat them with the same consideration.

It isn’t a new concept, respect for oneself and others ~ because it really does flow both ways. Indeed, it is a concept that reaches back into antiquity, a foundational precept in every culture: the ethic of reciprocity.

In western cultures, it’s most commonly known as: The Golden Rule

I’m hoping the concept enjoys a renaissance.

See you on the green ~

Rebecca

 

I don’t do new year’s resolutions, but if I did, this year’s would be this: Say, out loud, the nice things you think about people ~ preferably to them. For instance:

I was reintroduced to this song the other day, during a fun shopping excursion with one of my daughters. I always liked the music, the bouncy, upbeat beat, when I heard it before, but I’m not sure I ever really knew the lyrics until now. (As my sista Ruth said, when she sent me the video: “Seriously, Sugah, you gotta get out more.” ;-))

But I keep thinking how much the main lyric: “I get knocked down/but I get up again/and you’re never gonna keep me down” describes so many of the people I love ~ my kids, those I’ve been blessed to be mama and nana to and those I’ve been gifted with through marriage and other circumstances; my sisters and sistas, who shine so brightly in my life; my brothers by birth and circumstance; my family and my friends-who-feel-like-family; my there-aren’t-enough-superlatives-to-describe-him husband.

Thing is, somehow or other, we’re always going to get knocked down by life at some point. It’s the dark yin to the bright yang of being human. But that’s not important. What is important is in the second and third lines, and that’s what I want to say to and about so many of you that I love (you know who you are ;-)):

Yeah, you get knocked down by one thing or another in this life ~ but you get back up again, and you never let anything keep you down. I’ve noticed, and I just wanted to say.

Proud of you, guys ~