Sophie's Story

  Every other Saturday C and I have breakfast at a local IHOP.  We've been doing this for awhile. I tend to order the same thing all the time. This is because many of the items have things that I can't or won't eat. I usually have an omelet and pancakes. The pancakes are my favourite, but I have to have the eggs because I need the protein. Otherwise I'll be hungry a couple hours later. I don't like eggs. I can't eat them plain that's why I have to order the omelet or a scramble. It's the only way I can choke the eggs down.   I was getting tired of the same old thing. I went into IHOP today looking for something different. Maybe I'd try a crepe. Maybe I'd see if they have hash. Maybe I'd get French toast with a side of scrambled eggs. I could dump hot sauce on the eggs to get them down.   We were shown to our seat. There was a sign on the table. It was advertising a new dish on the menu. It was a cheeseburger omelet. The inside was hash

   I have several friends who live with cats. (I don't say own cats because it is impossible to own a cat.) Sometimes we talk about our cats or cats we have known. I usually have at least one Scamp story. No one seems to have a cat like Scamp. Almost everyone finds the Scamp stories entertaining.   He is by far the most interesting cat I've known. For one thing he has a very expressive face. Yes, you can sometimes tell what a cat is thinking or feeling by looking at their face. When Scamp smells something that he doesn't like, he wrinkles up his nose and starts to move backward away from the smell. I've never seen a cat scrunch his or her nose up before. I don't know how he does it. It's not like there is a lot of loose skin on a cat nose.   His eyes are expressive too. He's the only animal I've ever met that can and will give you a dirty look. He does something with those green eyes of his that let you know that he's not happy and if it weren

  A little over a year ago I was trying to crochet a sweater with a ball of multicoloured yarn. I was just beginning my project when the yarn decided to speak to me. I didn't know that yarn could talk, but it can in extreme circumstances. I guess the yarn felt the it needed to. The yarn was not comfortable with the thought of being a sweater and told me that it wanted to be a blanket or a throw.   Since it is a special occasion when yarn decides to talk to you, I decided to honor it's wish and make a throw. Encouraged by the yarn, I ripped out the stiches I had done. It suggested that I make a large granny square.   It has taken over a year, but I am pleased to announce that I have finished the throw.  It took me awhile because I had other things to do like finish a shawl and knit a few washcloths for babies. I kept picking away at it. I noticed that it was a good project to work on when I wanted something that wasn't too complicated. I could talk to someone and work at

   In the movie "Steel Magnolias" there is a scene toward the end of the movie where one of the women holds another woman so a third woman could hit her. This shocks everyone. The woman being held gets away and walks to a bench to sit down away from everyone. The woman who held her comes over to her and apologizes. She says, "Things were getting entirely too serious for a moment. We needed to laugh…"   That's kind of what I feel like right now. It seems everywhere I look these are angry people, scared people and protests. There are people who mock the protesters and criticize  them for leaving their signs and other garbage behind.   Things are not much better closer to home. There's some kind of virus going around. People either don't have their insurance cards or are upset at the changes that have been made to their plans. I can't seem to get caught up with all the work I have to do. C has just come down with a serious head cold.   Right now

   Someone posted and shared a post in a Facebook group that I belong to. This prompted a vehement response by another person. The response focused mainly on how the post would make others feel judged and unwelcome. I'm being intentionally vague here because neither of the parties  involved know that I write and I don't want to focus on the people. I want to write about the situation.   My immediate reaction to this response was "oh boy". It was a very powerful response. It almost sounded like the cork coming out of a bottle. For some reason it kept sticking in my head. For several days it has been rolling around in my head. I'm not sure why. When this happens for some reason writing seems to help me sort it out. This is my attempt to sort it out.   I find myself being of two minds about this subject. Judgment has become a bad word these days. One of the definitions of judge as a verb is "to pass sentence upon ; condemn". (This is according to my tru

   This part week I've been off from work. C and I decided to use part of that time to work on some reorganization projects. We have been talking about getting rid of things we don't need. There is a lot of paper that needs to be shredded, articles that need to be taken to the hazardous waste site and clothes that need to be donated.   I was going through my closet looking for things I didn't need. I found a lot of stuff. There were shirts with lace tops and cotton button down shirts. There was a robe I had bought once and wore a few times. There was a cute pink suit that I bought for a wedding. I kept it thinking that maybe I'd shrink back to that size. I finally decided to give up on that. There was a blue skirt suit that someone gave me. I don't wear those kind of suits. I was making good progress. I got rid of enough stuff that I could fit some dresses from another closet back into my closet.   Then I saw them. Three silk shirts. I loved those shirts. It mad

  Hi This is Scamp. Sophie doesn't know it, but I've found her password. I'm going to write the column today. Sophie thinks I'm in the computer room because I'm hiding from Ethan, who is visiting today. Ethan is Sophie's grandson. He's cute. He's also four years old. So far he's staying away from me, but I don't want to take any chances. Young humans are unpredictable.   Colby is hiding under the dining room table. He's laying on a chair. Since there is a tablecloth over the table, he can't be seen. I don't understand why he is such a coward. He is the Chief House Cat which means he is responsible for detecting intruders and dealing with them.    I think I'm going to close the door just a little bit. Sophie is in the kitchen, talking to C right now. If she comes down the hall I don't want her to see me here. If I close the door a little she won't know.   I'm glad that C finally cleaned the room up. there was a lot