Tag: most beloved tells a story
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Ode to Joy of Being a Cat
From the Journals of Most Beloved: Ode to Joy of Being a Cat From the Journals of Most Beloved Ode to Joy of Being a Cat Scherzo. Forte. Crescendo without dénouement. Succession of notes, days metered in the click-click of 4/4, key of A (for August heat), unstable and trilling, repetition the same and in…
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Finding Spring in the Snow: Happiness is the Color of Daffodils
Daffodils in Early Spring With their creamy yellow centers surrounded by snow-white petals, Daffodils bring smiles of joy and unbridled happiness in anticipation of spring. Saturday and I’m dilly-dallying the day away. Frivolously, I might add, and contentedly I must add, for I am alone with she who loves and adores me. Just the two…
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The Cat, Considering Fall, Wists Melancholy
Fall Brings Melancholy and Reflection Fall brings melancholy and reflection. Earth, plants, trees, and flowers all begin to prepare for whatever journey life intends for them. Seeds scatter, birds migrate, bumble bees still cover themselves in pollen from flowers still blooming. Lavender is blooming again, still a dark purple, still vibrant and healthy, but fewer…
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The Cat Writes a Poem-A Cat Tale for Spring
From the Journals of Most Beloved- Spring Journals A mid-spring’s day, a perfect day, a day neither hot nor cold; exactly as I like it Watching birds. Robin. 2 mourning doves. A small song sparrow. Courtship of the mourning doves. Choosing a nesting spot. The intentional delivery of a well-chosen site, one safe and out…
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Meet “Most Beloved” Cat: Her Backstory Writes the Tales
How Did I Come To Be Most Beloved? The Garden Shed Once upon a snowy winter’s evening, a little boy found me shivering and terribly hungry. I hid from the bitter cold under a garden shed, but the little boy cried out to Mommy, “Mew, Mew-Mew, Mew” over and over until she peeked down to…
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When Peaches Meow: Musings with “Most Beloved”
The Orchard Years I look up and above to the picture Mom gifted me of my 11-year-old self, hand across the back of our Labrador Retriever’s shoulder, and Dusty (our rescued groundhog) pulling at his jaw. I was sitting, plaintive smile, faraway look in my eyes even then, blonde hair pulled back in a ponytail,…
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A Cat Sleeps in Our Garden
A Cat Sleeps in Our Gardens Days fall short now, time cutting across day’s light, night coming too fast—before supper, before work can be done, before we are ready. Gardens have been put to sleep—by us, or by nature—and while inside we work by light, outside, this early darkness awakens late fall’s chill. Against this…
Victoria & Vivaldi: New Kits on the Block 