Wednesday, June 19, 2019

Stormy Daniels, the feral



Nice cat car for Stormy


Now…
Okay, I tried. I did my best to get her used to a box with a towel in it. NADA. I even built  her a DRY condo I called the maternity condo under the back deck. A place she once took her kitties after she let us see them, and before they disappeared. That was her first litter.

The last litter we never saw, something got them within a week. She was depressed for a few days starring toward the place she chose to birth them. I never actually found the place the rascal lost me. She was good at misdirection.

Yesterday she was making the most terrible noise. Sherry and I tried to comfort her but to no avail. She moved away from me and lay down, got quiet, and I saw moisture behind her. She stood up and turned to smell and taste it. I figure ‘her water broke’. Immediately she left ‘without a how do you do!’ She went between two houses across the street and looked as if she turned behind a house that has an old storage building behind it.

She left FAT and came back to find me in the basement today slim. She would not eat. I even got her some fresh milk, which she never turns down, but she did. Sherry and I both petted her and told her how proud we were of her and wanted her kitties here and we would keep them safe.

But she left in just a few minutes and in the general direction as yesterday, but a completely different route. Ferals are cagey and slick.

So I guess we are grandparents again. I do hope we get to see the brood this time. She would not tell man how many she had this time. I guess I must wait. I am NOT a cat person, but kittens are cute to watch.

I say I am not a cat person and Sherry says, “Stormy has you wrapped around her paw!”
Later….
Nite Shipslog

PS: I have gotten attached to the 'Wild Thang!

Trail Angels, ‘groups’ (communities) we did not know existed!


 

Nice older cars
 The 1951 Studebaker

Now…
Like you,  we have learned some neat things over our life span. In every walk of life it seems there are ‘unheralded groups’. The little league parents, team moms. We met a lifelong friend who has a grandson Luke, while we have a grandson who was ‘THE' Luke. We bantered back and forth, it is still a wonderful relationship.

Our boys were into ‘Motocross’, that is a society of its own. There are groups of RV’ers with each RV name. Someone organizes ‘Overland Owners’, Winnebago Owners, etc. They meet and enjoy the company of likeminded folk. We are a part of a small group of RV'ers, even our old RV pastor. We seem to meet for dinner once a year.

When Sherry suggested we hike the Appalachian Trail, we had no idea the camaraderie the hikers enjoy. There are AT Hikers who retire close to the trail simply to become ‘Trail Angels’. Remembering the importance of clean water, some place jugs of fresh water at crossings. Some walk a couple miles into the wild and lace a cool spring with Cokes, Sprite. Some hang bags of fruit from tree limbs, etc.

Sherry and I once set up a sandwich stop ourselves to give sandwiches to hikers.  It is such a pleasure to meet the wide spread of interests of individuals who decide to backpack.

Hikers cover the entire spectrum: home-schoolers, doctors, lawyers, Teenagers, Old folks, Policemen and pilots. But the unheralded group is the 'Trail Angel.' Some simply offer rides into town or back to a trail head.

I am positive you have met or are a member of a unique group of people. Shucks, Sherry’s classmates, ‘old small town friends’ look forward to coffee every Monday morning at Hardees. To spin tales or reminisce.

Nite Shipslog

Monday, June 17, 2019

The Smoky Mountains


Early interesting Cars:
  Ahhhhh, that 1956 T-Bird with a port hole!

But for today:
I saw the Atlantic Ocean at 6 years old. I remember the Smokey’s at about 7 years old. We were crossing thru Newfound Gap. I think at the time dad was driving  a 1947 Chevy Fleetline auto. I had just seen the Cherokee Indian village for the first time and had a headband with a feather and an Indian tomahawk, daddy had bought for me.,

Both were handmade there in Cherokee. Now most of the trinkets are actually stamped made in China. That is sorta sad to me. BUT you cannot beat Cherokee for a kid thrilled with stories from the past. Of course later in life I learned the dark history of that Tribe, i.e. The Trail of Tears. A sad part of the history of the USA. But at the time I was just thrilled to see ‘Real Indians’.

BUT back up on Newfound Gap. I had no idea at the time the importance of the Gap. It was encased in a cloud so no ‘views’ were to be seen. There was a path up into the woods, and I had to walk on up into the cloud. I hadn’t walked too far until met a huge (to me) dark figure, It paused and reared up. I took a step or too forward before I heard a low growl and realized it was for real, a bear. My feet took flight and I was back to the parking lot in a flash.

Dad continued our trip to Tennessee. I know the family got tired of my reporting seeing a bear.

Sherry and I have driven crossed Newfound Gap many times in our lives. But I was about 70 years old and backpacking  through the Smokey Mountains before I realized the very path where I met the bear, is actually the Appalachian Trail as it passes the Gap and the Smoky Mountains.

So we actually walked the very path I was walking when I met the bear at 7 years old. That was sort of a kick to me.

Nite Shipslog