Month: July 2018

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Laissez le Bon Temps Roulez!

IMG_0606New Orleans had been on my bucket list for a while. Despite living (and not even working) in Georgia for nearly seven months, I never made it over there. I loved Savannah and Charleston, so given NOLA’s French influence and notorious pulsating energy – combined with the southern hospitality, architecture, and cuisine I had already grown to love – I knew I had to check it out someday. Continue reading →

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Back on the Bandwagon

IMG_0023I have been so delinquent in writing, and boy have I missed it. I hate that my first post back after so many months was a sad one about the loss of my beloved rescue kitty, Tetsu. Beyond that tragedy, I have so much to say and to share. I only work part-time, so I truly have no good excuse to have deviated from my Gypsy Kitty Diaries. But you know, it is what it is.

Chuck deployed back in April, and won’t be back until October. While it’s true that deployments are never fun, this one is sure as heck less stressful in many ways than the last two. I mean, Australia beats Afghanistan any day of the week and twice on Sundays! (Where did that expression even come from, by the way?!) As far as I can tell, he’s been productive but also having a blast. I actually went to visit him a couple of weeks ago – more on that later. Continue reading →

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The Storm Beneath the Bougainvillea

IMG_7349Tetsu didn’t merely wander into my life. He stormed into it like the impetuous Okinawan typhoon of steel for which he was named, full of spunk and tenacity. Although it seemed like he’d been in my life forever, my Boy Named Su was only with me a little under two years… And I still can’t believe that he’s gone.

I’m generally against letting cats outside. While I recognize the closer tie to their wild ancestry than dogs, there are simply too many dangers. Of course, I have mostly lived in urban apartments in high traffic, high risk areas. In Okinawa particularly, there were too many diseased strays, plus the chance of being picked up by Japanese animal control and sent to the gas chambers. There was also plenty of traffic…

But our little Pink House in Southern California has been something special. It has this magic to it. It tantalizes with its ephermal Ferngully distractions. It’s quiet. Nothing bad ever happens here. And I got comfy. Continue reading →