Salamander Anyone?

These two are my cats, Baby and Homer. Since spring has sprung and it is exceedingly pleasant outdoors, they have begged to be let outside to watch lizards, birds, squirrels and generally anything that moves. When the backdoor closes behind her, Baby, the black cat, will stop, look back and appear to wonder, "Will I get back in?" She will often come back to the door, peer in through the glass and meow. When the door is reopened, she won't come back inside. "Just checking," is what I imagine she is saying to me. So, Kim and I have begun to leave the patio door open so the cats can come and go as they please. However, that is going to change due to the "prize" Baby brought into my den this morning.


When I Goggled to find a picture of the salamander I was surprised to see how many different varieties of the creature there were. However, the picture you see here is exactly what Baby wagged into my den this morning in her mouth. I screamed, "BABY!" and she of course dropped it. The thing must have been in shock and didn't move for a moment but quickly regained consciousness and slithered under the coffee table. I ran to retreive my broom all the while yelling at Baby as if she could understand my dismay at this thing in my den. When I moved the table away, it wiggled quickly toward the sofa minus the tip of its tail. Baby was keeping up with her prey until I wildly began swatting and screaming like a mad women with the broom. Baby immediately dashed for shelter and I managed to drive the stripped thing under the couch. By now Homer has heard the commotion and returned from outdoors to investigate.

Having already moved the coffee table, I started rolling the rug back to prepare to move the couch. Homer was most interested in the carpet and even more interested in the old Christmas bow found behind the couch. I moved the rest of the sectional in pieces all over the room while Homer began his own version of "Christmas Bow Soccer". No salamander. Baby and now Homer were so curious about the moved furniture and rolled up carpet, that they completely forgot about the blue stripped slimy creature lose somewhere in my den. However, I couldn't rest until that thing was outside where it belonged.

I proceeded to gingerly move the sofa, a bit at a time, when I see a tiny sliver of something about a half inch long wiggling around. Was it a little worm? No, it was the salamander's tail that came off. It was still moving around and with paper in hand I cringed as I scooped the detached tip into a plastic container (which will never be used again) and threw the appendage part out the door. Well at least THAT is gone.

Now to get serious about that salamander. I continued to move the couch bit by bit away from the wall and there he was lying motionless on the tile floor. I ran to get something to scoop him onto. I didn't want him to get away before I could fling him outside. I needed that clear plastic container again and something really thin to scoop him up so he wouldn't touch me. Finally, finding a half sheet of cardstock, I returned to capture my prey. Only he was no longer in the spot behind the couch where I left him. He had moved! Oh no, where was he? Did he crawl under the detached sectional pieces? I moved each piece around and found no salamander.

The rolled up carpet had now become Homer's favorite place to play as he squeezed himself into the hole made by the tubelike cylinder. I moved him off of the carpet and began to unroll it, when there it was. The salamander began to crawl away and in my excitement I squealed and clapped the dustpan over the escapee. Got it! Ha! Then, I slid my half page cardstock under the dustpan to create a new floor for the salamander. Oh no, I can't see it. What if it isn't on the piece of cardstock? He could drop out and I'd lose him or worse, he might touch me. Not wanting that to happen, I picked up a thin magazine from the coffee table, and carefully slid it under the cardstock while holding the dustpan tightly on top of it. I hastened to the open patio door, released the magazine and out dropped the salamander onto the ground. He scurried off into the bushes. Victory! Gone. Now I can get back to laundry, reading and school papers. Aaah. Peace has been restored.

Too bad for Baby and Homer who have lost their open door priviledges.

Blank Walls With No Color

When we moved into our current house, the walls of each room were a different color. Granted, the colors, which included some outdated wall treatments, were on the pale side, but color just the same. Because I wanted to make this house our home, we decided that the wall color had to be repainted as part of the renovation and facelift project. In my usual indecisive manner, I told the painters to just paint the walls a clean neutral shade and I could take my time deciding on colors. Now having lived here almost four years, the color is still neutral beige. I just couldn’t bare the brain-strain of having to decide on wall colors only to make a mistake and have to live with some ugly shade of pink. (Been there, done that.)

My taste in room color and decoration, however, is not reflected in the walls I am now viewing. My walls are quiet, even to the point of bland with no excitement. Bright wall color, paintings with details coordinated to reflect a homeowner’s personality are so much more interesting than plain beige. It would seem that my life and personality were a safe cream-colored, not too exciting beige. Blah! No risks, no color, no fun. My inner-self has always screamed to get out.

“My inner-self”? Where did that come from? I suspect I have written this topic onto a different level. So, let’s go with it.

Could it be that our true personality, our inner-person so to speak, can be seen in our choice of wall color and decoration? Take mine for example. Like you see in the picture, my walls are beige or as some paint cans read, cream, eggshell, or ecru. Whatever it is called, it is bland. My wall decorations are also minimally uninteresting. When I watch HGTV’s “Design on a Dime”, I am motivated to use just what I already own to add interest to my walls at hardly any cost. However, I have learned that it takes a certain amount of know-how and willingness to be daring. Like wall color that “pops”, I long to be bold and confident.

Personal willingness that dares us to stand out in a crowd and to charm the people we meet with confident know-how is nothing to some and something to others like me. I watch, with a certain amount of envy, the people who are able to turn a house into an inviting home where everyone wants to congregate.The way their walls are painted the perfect shade to compliment the window treatments, the manner in which each accessory from throw pillows to votives, from paintings to sconces, enhance the overall completeness of a room makes me yearn for that talent. It has also been my observation that those same people receive respect and adoration from many of their peers. Most of the time, their smiles are genuine, and they are in control while appearing to have a life success rate that continues well into their retirement years. The person inside of me wants to be out decorating rooms both physical and metaphorical while influencing others and pursuing life’s successes.

“Blank Walls With No Color” was originally supposed to be exactly what the title implies; my interior walls need of color. However, after considering some of your comments on the title, it made me think about how my choice of wall treatment can be related to how I live my life. I sometimes hide my inner-self out of fear of what others will think. Or I sometimes let my inner-person out when no one else is around. She is a lot of fun, happy and willing to try that pop of color. Unfortunately, it can be self-damaging to have duel personalities. Our habits, behaviors and actions were often learned from our parents, their behaviors and values. When we grow into mature adults, and our own decisions about living begin to differ from those of our parents, it sometimes throws our personalities into a dilemma. How much do I reveal to those I am around? What will they think of me if I do or say something they don’t agree with? Why do I care? I should be able to “paint the way I want to”, shouldn’t I?

This has all been a metaphor and much remains to be seen. For now my interior walls, my inner-self, endure “Safe Beige”. Eventually, perhaps I will paint with boldness, confidence, and self-liking. I think that would call for bright colors. Don’t you?

The Unpost

It has been a while since I last entered a post of any substance. To write something on my blog, I have to consider so many things. For example, if I write about questionable subject matters, I must consider all of my church friends that might read my blog. I don't want to offend them. If I talk about my family, I run the risk of only my family reading my blog. If I "gripe" and complain about what is going on in my life, I come across sounding pitiful.

I have a wide range of topics, to tell the truth, and I can't make up my mind as to what I should share on this public forum. Here are some of the offerings.
1. My church life or lack thereof.
2. What's new in Albuquerque!
3. Retirement has a season and time
4. Blank walls with no color
5. Inside the Mind of a teenage male cat

I could go on, but then I'd be obligated to come up with a post for the subjects and frankly, I just don't have the energy. Oooh, there's one...
6. Where Did the Energy Go?

So what do you think? What should I blog about as we come to the close of the school season and my life as a teacher of young minds? I'm open. Oh, and if you could slip a twenty in the mail for my time and trouble, I'd be much obliged. Thanks!
Oh and BTW...don't you think my son and newest grandpuppy are he cutest things?! (see previous blog entry)

The Dynamic Duo

There are not words for this pic. Its just fun.