My new Venture into the Visual Arts

It's been a while since I weighed in here and many things have changed. First, my beloved cat Pablo died on Christmas Eve. 2025. He was 21 years old and dealt with advanced kidney disease for as long as possible, but when he stopped eating and drinking, I knew it was time to call the vet. We did an at-home euthanasia, which, while more expensive than an office visit, is much less stressful for the pet as well as the human. He is forever in my heart. 

Another change is I have NOT been writing. Since April 2024, I've returned to my first love: visual art. At first, I was rusty, but I quickly found my groove and have since exhibited in several galleries and shows and even sold a few pieces. I work primarily in acrylic on canvas.

Henry, 2026, 16x12", Acrylic on heavy paper

 

Baby Merlin is charcoal on toned paper, 11x14>

Henry, top, Baby Merlin, are both currently in an exhibit at Graphite Arts Center - Art is for everyone. in Edmonds, WA.

Painting and drawing cats is therapeutic.

There's Something Happening Here. 2025, 24 x 22 

Currently it's on loan to a friend who fell in love with it. He's still deciding if he can afford it. I told him to borrow it and hang it up, and he can pay in installments. In one respect, I don't care if he pays for it. I just love that HE loves it. But I DO need the $$ to pay for more art supplies.

Here are some more examples.

Joe Crow Joins the Family Picnic,17 x 22", will be on display at Lynnwood Municipal Center during June, 2026.

 Ode to Tomatoes, 2025, 16 x 20

 

 It's Cheesy it's crunchy, It's delicious, 2024, 16 x 20", SOLD

The Bosy is a landscape, 2024, 16 x 12 " SOLD

Tomato Party was on display at the Edmonds Arts Festival, 2025, 20 x 20"

Stay tuned and I will share more artworks and news with you. 

Happy creating.

What is this thing called dog? by Pablo the Cat

I’m a cat. Cats are not known to work and play with others. Occasionally I will deign to express affection toward the human because she feeds me, cleans my bathroom, and provides a warm lap. I even let her sleep in my enormous bed every night. So why-oh-why did she bring this large spotted animal home with her?

This thing called Luna has been here before with another human who resembles my human. But the creature left with this other human when their time was up. But yesterday my human brought this barking canine into my lair. This dog tried to kiss me when, smelling of the beach and rain, burst through the door. The critter went around my apartment and started sniffing everything, and she planted kisses on MY human, who not only talked to her in the same tones she uses with me, but had the nerve to call this thing “sweetheart.”

Yo. Human! I’M your sweetheart!  How long is this thing called dog staying?

I invent a new game called Snub the Human. Problem is she doesn’t seem to notice. She’s tossing a toy back and forth with the dog.

I miss out on nuzzles and petting. Drat! It’s hard to be a cat.

I stare out the window until dark. The human sits on the couch to watch that show where they sing Soft Kitty warm kitty. Her lap does look inviting. The large canine creature is snoring on her dog bed, so I leap onto my human. I lap her thighs hard with my tail to express discontent. She strokes my fur and calls me “precious angel.”

Suddenly our peace is broken. Luna jumps up and barks at the front door. It’s just Fred the neighbor.

After dark the dog whines. The human asks, “do you need to pee pee?” I envy that she gets to go outside. But not tonight. Haha. It’s raining. I can pee and poop in my climate controlled box. The dog comes back inside soaking wet.

But then my human gives her a rub down with a towel. I see her sneaking the dog a treat.

it’s finally bedtime, where I allow the human inside the kingdom of the queen sized bed.  I wait for her to snap off all the lights and tuck her feet under the covers. I climb the blanket covered legs to settle in for a nap when out of nowhere the dog has the nerve to jump on MY bed and cuddle up against MY human. And my human allows it!

How long is this thing staying?

This is as close as I’m getting..that book between us will protect me.

.

El Gato Blanco vs. Los Humanos

Okay, so this morning I’m minding my own business, taking a nap on the giant hotel room bed, and the Crazy Cat lady sits down and strokes my fur. So far so good. Then she says, “I’m sorry.” It’s never good news when she starts a conversation with an apology.

She lifts me up and stashes me inside that blasted crate again. That means either we’re moving again, or the vacuum cleaning lady is coming back. She scoots Henry inside his crate, too, and says, “I’ll be back in a few minutes. Be good.”

She leaves. Henry doesn’t even bother to complain anymore. Hw sighs and just stares out the wires of his cage. My crate, though, is soft sided. I got out of here once; I’m sure I can find a way to escape again. When I got loose in the car all I had to do was bag my head against the zipper. CCL got wise and faced the zipper side of my crate against the wall. But this thing also has three mesh windows. Unlike the back seat of the car, where I was surrounded by stuff, there is nothing blocking me between the mesh and the outside world.

I bang my big white head against the mesh. There’s no zipper. But wait. I have built in scissors. I claw at one of the windows until I can fit my head through the hole, and voila! Just as the vacuum lady walks in, screams, and slams the door, I’m free!

I stalk the room. Because Henry is locked up, it’s mine, all mine! I’m just about to dance for joy when the CCL comes in and grabs me. “Bad kitty. You escaped,” she says. She jams me back in the carte, but turns it so the hole is now underneath me, and the zipper side is against the wall. But this time she sets the whole contraption inside the closet, loads a pair of shoes on top, and ties the door shut.

I hear her laughing with the maid when she leaves, and the vacuum lady makes all her cleaning noise.  I create a new hole in the mesh and wriggle my way free, but I can’t get out of the closet. It’s not so bad in here, though, so I lie on the top and take a nap until the Crazy Cat Lady comes back.

She’s not mad, though. She sets me in the window and gives Henry and me some treats. After a bit I curl up on the hoodie she had planned to wear today. Cat 1, Human 0.

Henry’s Turn

.

Pablo escaped last night! Not that I blame him. I’ve tried it a few times myself. But the big white oaf actually made it out the door. It was funny watching our human mom try to snag him, and he wriggled out of her hands and waddled his fact cat butt down the hall. He stopped, looked around the unfamiliar surroundings, but Mom chased him down, so he dashed toward the stairs and slipped through her fingers again. It was so exciting! Mom finally nabbed him on the third step and he sort of became rigor mortis cat until she dumped him on the floor back inside the room.

I’m not a big fan of the white cat, and the feeling is mutual. I was here first, but he comes along and acts like HE’s the alpha, so every once in awhile I have to remind him who’s boss. He’s bigger, but I’m meaner, and quicker. A quick left hook on the chin or the nose and he leaves me alone.

Ever since we started this trip, though, we’ve reached an impasse. We’re both prisoners in our crates and inside these strange rooms. I’m just glad we’re not riding in the cramped car every day. Mom still puts us in the crates every once in awhile when the Spanish ladies come to clean. It's annoying. These strangers come in and sing, and sweep and run the vacuum cleaner.

The white guy just sleeps all day now. Not that he didn’t sleep a lot before. He’s the king of laziness. But he used to interact more. Maybe he’s bored. Or he misses being able to lie on top of the car in the garage. I miss the sunbeams that came through the storm door in summer. But in this room Mom opens the drapes and puddles of light sometimes flood the floor.

I don’t know why we’re here. The birds and noises and smells are all different. Every night I smell animals outside our room. And they even let dogs in here! Last night there was one lurking outside our door. White cat and I stood at the ready just in case it broke in.

Right now I’m resting on my blue blanket, but I’ll start bugging Mom for our midnight snack soon.  She knows she won’t get a full night’s sleep unless she bribes us with treats.

MEOWWWWW.

Off the Road

 After several Days of speeding my way across he country (with cats!) I took a three day respite at my cousin Bob’s farm near Yakima, Washington. Bob and his wife Cheryl are chill people, so the only “planned” activities were dinner out on my first night at a brewery in Sunnyside, Sunday breakfast in Yakima (more on that later,) and Bob giving me a tour of his acreage and the dairy for whom he supplies hay.

Bob, Cheryl and I spent most of our time catching up since we last visited and having great conversations. They have a guest house on their property, so my spoiled cats did not mix with heir three kitties. Henry and Pablo were confused Saturday morning and I didn’t pack them up for another road trip. They gradually relaxed and took advantage of he large windowsills and sunny windows in the guest quarters.

On Saturday Bob took me on a tour in the afternoon while Cheryl prepared a ham dinner. While driving we spotted one of many osprey nests with two osprey inside.  The dairy farm itself was rife with a variety of odors. The air around the farm as hot and dry with a tinge of smoke, partly from area fires, and party because Bob almost accidently burned down his barn a couple of weeks ago.

On July 4^th the three of us sat in Bob and Cheryl’s front yard and watched an array of fireworks heir neighbors set off. Cheryl remarked that fewer than half than usual in the area had fireworks because of the fire risk.

On Sunday, Bob, Cheryl and I headed to Yakima for breakfast at a combination auction house/restaurant. Several area restaurants had closed, so the already successful auction site devotes part its space to a full service restaurant. Cheryl said after they done they usually browse the furniture, but Bob needed to get back to the farm and swathe the alfalfa for hay. He let me ride with him inside the swathe machine for a few runs.

Later I cleaned out Henry’s crate since he had peed in it. After a scrubbing and drying in the sun, it was road ready. I packed some of my stuff and the kitties grew suspicious.

This three day visit was the perfect respite from the days of pounding the freeways, fighting rain, intense heat, mountainous terrain, hot sun, hazy conditions from fires across the west, and my own fatigue.  I knew if I put off leaving by a day I’d never leave.

Pablo tried to hide this morning. He knew by seeing me spray Feliway inside the crates (a substance to help calm cats) that we would be on the road again. Initially Henry didn't seem to mind traveling again, but he meowed non-stop for about an hour. When I stopped at a rest area Cheryl recommended near Ellensburg I saw why; Henry had pooped, but missed the box. He was a stinky mess, so I wiped him down with wet wipes. Once he was clean, I tried holding him with one hand while wiping out the crate, but he scratched the hell out of me. Maybe it was the freeway noise, or the breeze, so I pulled his blue blanket out of the car and rolled him inside it like a burrito so I could finish cleaning the carrier.

This is the first time Henry seemed annoyed by the trip. Otherwise he’s been a trouper. Poor kitty.

I had left the farm around 11, and hoped to be in Seattle by 3, but twenty miles outside the city traffic on I-90 stopped. We crawled for several miles before traffic unsnarled. It was 4:30 by the time I checked in. After hauling two loads of cats and crap to the room, I asked the front desk for restaurants within walking distance so I didn't have to drive any more. In fact I may never drive again. (At least not with cats.

The hotel is directly across from a Buca di Beppo where I enjoyed tomato basil soup, half of a margarita pizza (the other half will be a nice lunch tomorrow), and a glass of red wine. Now I am going to take a shower, unpack, and chillax. 

Pablo's Tale: Day Five of On the The Road

"Not this again," I think, as the crazy woman gripped me tightly and stuffs me into the zippered box like thing. Yeah, yeah, it has windows, but since I made the mistake of demonstrating how easily I can bang my head against the zippered side and escape, she faces that side toward the door, so if I bang against it, I'm only going to give myself a headache instead of freedom.

My traveling companion, an old coot the crazy lady calls Henry, starts vocally protests. "May as well save your breath, old man," I say. “We're not getting our freedom anytime soon. "

For the last several days, this is our routine: lady shunts us inside crates as she hauls our litter box, food, and her computer and clothes and stuffs this all in an already overstuffed car. She finally loads us in between precariously stacked bags and drives for what seems like days to us cats, but apparently is July around seven hours in people time. We spend our days lingering in the backseat while English accented people narrate books. We stop, occasionally and she checks our water dishes. I refuse to acknowledge her and turn my head when she asks how I’m doing, especially when she uses her mock English accent. Henry, though, vociferously offers his opinions on everything from the hot weather, the changing altitudes, and his views on gay marriage and universal health care.

When we are finally freed to walk around, voila! We're in a whole different room in a whole different city.  The crazy cat lady feeds us right away and disappears for awhile, apparently to let the mangy old striped cat and me to sniff our way into finding a spot. So far each placed we've stayed hasn't been bad. Until today.

It's the fifth day, and she has installed us into a very stinky pet designated room outside of Boise, Idaho. She sprayed some lavender, and sprinkled baby powder on the skanky carpet, but it doesn't mask that 1)someone may have been murdered here, 2) stored soiled clothes in here for six months, or 3)had some bowel infestation and didn't quite make it to the toilet . "Sorry, guys," she says, the place is booked solid ."

Other than the smell, the place itself is nice. The desk clerk was friendly, and secured the crazy cat lady some help shuttling us into the room. CCC assures us we will be able to park ourselves for a few days with some of her crazy relatives tomorrow. Meanwhile, she cracks the window and runs the fan full blast. Too bad she didn't book at the Motel 6 up the road. I hope we survive.

Are We There Yet, Mommy?

I woke up annoyed. Annoyed that I had gotten lost twice, and now had NO idea how to find I-80 west, annoyed that I had left my hoodie in the hotel in Peoria so I was chilly all night and slept badly, and annoyed by how crap I packed in my car. When I went out after breakfast to rearrange bags to make room for the kitties, I found a 75’ roll of aluminum foil. Why? Was I planning to build a McGyver bomb or retrieve messages from space? I gave the roll to the young woman at the front desk, who gave me excellent directions back to the freeway.

The cats were fairly compliant all day. This change of scenery and constant driving is stressful for all three of us. Plus all the crap I have to haul in and out of the hotel. It takes two trips with one of those luggage carts. One for them and their accessories, one for my stuff. They’ve both adapted pretty well. Pablo uses the box inside the hotel, but poor old Henry has a small one inside his crate, which occasionally he uses. A few times during the drive I noticed foul odors, but they were bovine. The expensive cat litter is working.

Today’s drive was smooth, even though my car noticed the higher elevation. Every time I had to slow down for construction it took a long time to get my RPMs back up to 75. In Wyoming the speed limit is 80.

Around lunch time I stopped at a Shell station in Kearney, Nebraska. I’ve never liked self- serve. I’m kind of like Cindy Sterling with lawnmowers at the gas pump. I find one which has an easy method and stick to it. The pump at this Shell station had instructions about as clear as mud, so I went inside to get help. The woman behind the counter was rude and condescending, and I thought, “I don't have to buy my gas here,” and I ended up glad hadn’t.

One exit away was a town called Odessa, and a sign advertised Shepp Brothers as having “the cleanest roadside restrooms in Nebraska.”  Their pumps were easy to work, and when I went inside to pay I entered a wonderland. Lucky for me my car is full or I would have gone on a shopping spree of scarves, clothes and purses. They also had groceries, so my lunch was two packets of cheese, a bag of Kettle chips and a banana. And the restroom was clean. I’ve traveled quite a bit but I’ve never seen a toilet that had a bidet function. One might expect such a toilet in a fancy French hotel but not a roadside establishment.

After getting lost in Lincoln, tonight’s dinner was in a Subway across the parking lot from my hotel in Cheyenne. I had a tuna salad sandwich on wheat with spinach and cucumbers. This hotel is right off the freeway, so setting out in the morning will be easy. I found another hoodie in my car to keep me warm in the AC. Right now Pablo is sleeping on it, but the room hasn't cooled off fully.

I have no idea what tie it is. My PC says 8:24, the room clock says 8:35 , and my phone tells me it’s 6:25.

And now time for my nightly glass of wine and select my next stop on the map.

Lost in Lincoln Nebraska

After a night of thundering rain, the kitties and I woke to sunshine in Peoria. Neither of them was happy to be placed in their respective carriers, but they resigned themselves to another long drive with few protestations.

It occurred to me as I drove how different this trip was since my last westward journey by car. At that time I drove an un-air-conditioned 1973 Chevy Nova without a radio. Young and stupid, I drove for twelve to sixteen hour stretches, with only a couple of overnight motel stops. When my brother and I crossed back to Ohio on that same trip, he and I took turns driving straight through with only fuel and meal stops. I recall we stopped for coffee somewhere in Canada in the middle of the night and I fell asleep at the table.

My comfort levels have changed, and so has technology in cars. Other than my car being cramped, the ride is more comfortable and the book on CD has kept me focused. I made a couple of water stops along the way and Henry was grateful. Pablo pouted and refused to drink on my presence. At a Phillips 66 during a fuel stop I ate a hot dog I bought. It's definitely hard to eat healthy fare on the road when you can’t sit down for a meal.

The Midwest is largely flat, but Iowa has a couple of distinguishing characteristics. Every few miles, I noticed windmills, looming like large white mechanical birds. The second oddity is the red colored freeway lanes heading west. The eastbound lanes have the normal gray hue, but for about thirty miles the west bound lanes are a terracotta red.

Other than in construction zones and within cities, most of the way the speed limit was 70 mph. When I crossed into Nebraska, the speed limit increased to 75, and even as I drove 77-79, cars flew past me. At one point a sheriff’s car tailgated me until I sped up to 83 to let him pass. His lights weren't flashing, so I wondered why he was in such a hurry. I was also relieved he didn't ticket me.

Overall I made good time until I hit Lincoln T rush journey, going the wrong way on I-180. I finally stopped at a muffler place, parked, and called the hotel. I was clear on the west side of town and I needed to be around fifty blocks east of there. This put me right in the downtown, and if it weren't for the cats, who were both crying by now, I would have stopped and checked out one of the cafes I spotted along the way. I found the hotel, but I have idea how I will find 80 West again in the morning.

It was much easier unloading the cats and my luggage. I may not be so lucky tomorrow, though. I turned on the 6 o clock news when I dropped cats and bags in the room and the prediction is more rain.

I tried to find Panera for dinner, but the desk clerk's directions were vague, so I ended up at a mall, eating lousy spaghetti and meatballs. I should have stopped at the nearby Olive garden, but I'm on a new city and wanted to try something new.

I couldn't find the street going back to my hotel until after I passed it, but I spotted a Barnes and Noble. I browsed for a bit, but did not want to add ONE more thing to my pigsty of a car, so I left empty handed. I headed back to the hotel, but that section of the road was one way. So how the hell was I supposed to find the place? Many of the streets in Lincoln have Names like O or R Street that intersect with numbered streets. I drove endlessly in circles until I found the hotel by accident. As Elizabeth says, lost is the new black, so I am tres stylish today.

Now enjoying my nightly glass of red and some pistachios and almonds I found in my purse.

Tomorrow, Cheyenne, Wyoming.

Traveling With Felines Is Not the Cat’s Meow.

.

Day one of On the Road (with cats.) I had hoped to be on the road at nine, but of course I didn't set out until nearly noon. I overestimated how much I could pack in a in a Honda Civic, especially with two cats. Their crates take up more than half the back seat, and everything I packed would not fit, so I had to make last minute decisions on what to leave a lot of cap behind. I wanted to be able to see out of the back. The cats were the last things I packed in the car. Neither was happy. My car looked like an episode of hoarders.

As soon as I backed out of the driveway, I noticed my phone needed to be charged, but my car charger was stuck under about 600 pounds of luggage. At least the weather cooperated. In Ohio, anyway. More on that later.

The boys were both chatty as we headed out of town. Just west of Gratiot, I noticed Pablo had wangled himself out of his carrier. He stopped meowing, but he kept moving, and just outside of Dayton he started crawling around near the steering wheel, so I pulled off and stopped at a Wendy's. I reinserted poor Pablo back in his crate and turned it so its front window faced the door. There are two side flaps without zippers so he had plenty of air and he could still glare at me.

It had been years since I'd eaten a fast food burger. The bun tasted yeasty like beer. I wished I’d had a beer right them. But I ordered Diet Coke (Cindy S will understand why I submitted to the chemicals. It was a Diet Coke moment.

Pablo stayed put, but he and Henry cried all the way to the Indiana border. As I passed under the Thanks for Visiting Ohio sign near Richmond, Indiana I got a little weepy myself. Even though I grew up moving across states and countries, I have spent most of my life in Ohio.

Even though my car was loaded to the gills, I didn't need to stop for gas until I reached Danville, Illinois. The cats had quieted down, but they both gave me looks of derision.

State by state the weather varied. Ohio was sunny and cool, Indiana cloudy, and Illinois varied from windy, light rain, occasional clearing, drenching rain, and just as I pulled up to my hotel in Peoria, there was a giant bolt of lightning and the sky opened up. If I had gone to the right hotel in the first place and not wasted twenty minutes I could have avoided the rain.

I also wasted about a half hour going the wrong way on 465 outside Indianapolis. Also, construction slowed me down, so the six and a half hour plan turned into more than eight hours of travel.

There were some high notes. For dinner, I ate a Mediterranean omelet at Perkins restaurant.I'm listening to a good book on CD: The Thirteenth Tale. The first book I tried listening to, a Michael Connelly, was boring, so I gave the CDs to the nice desk clerk and asked her to pass it on.

My car is way too loaded down, and I think of the scene in Wild where Cheryl Stayed loaded so much in her backpack she fell backward. If it stops raining, I might repack my car so the boys and I aren't suffocating. Tonight I threw way the socks, blouse and underwear I was wearing.

I have four more days like this ahead of me. I'm so glad I brought wine, and at least it's not snowing.