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Posts Tagged ‘As Pictured Below’

mustache

I mustache you a question. Would you please remove this atrocity from my vicinity and stop pretending that I make puns?

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Yang remains unmoved by your argument.

“I believe I heard the sound of a bag of Greenies being opened. No? You say it’s a bag of croutons? Well, I happen to know that the croutons are stored next to the Greenies, so let’s just break those out while you’re standing there.”

I eat a lot of salad, so we play this game several nights a week. I pretend to be fooled by his charade, and he enjoys outsmarting me. Everybody wins.

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Yang turned 17 earlier this month. Not bad for a kitty who received the then-apt nickname of “vomicat” many years ago. A diet of homemade cat food has kept the old-cat ranginess at bay, and he may just be primed to register to vote next summer.

I know we’re lucky to have had such a great cat in the family for so long. (Not that Yin was any slouch in the long-term pet department: 14 years is not the shortest of cat lives, either.)

Animal lovers automatically surround themselves with other animal lovers, and are thus always experiencing the happiness and the tragedies of animal companionship. Just a couple of weeks ago, a friend’s 8-year-old cat died suddenly, and this week another friend is facing an undetermined, yet probably terminal, diagnosis for his family’s cat. He has the additional burden of helping his young sons deal with their grief, too.

If we had any common sense when it came to protecting our emotions, we’d stop turning animals into family members. The joy we would lose if we chose a lesser relationship with our pets, however, is simply unfathomable.

Thus, we choose, again and again, to love these furry little beasts, knowing that they’re going to leave us much too soon.

Totally worth it.

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Easter1977

Easter 1977: The year before we blended flowers and plaid.

The year that at least one of us didn’t want his photo taken in suspender shorts.

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If I had a nickel for every time I deftly shook all the coins out of this little piggy bank when I was a little girl, I would need a WAY bigger bank for all my nickels.

Like the old glass measuring cup and my grandfather’s blue denim jacket, it’s one of the few items that I simply HAD to have from my grandparents’ house. I seriously played with it for hours at a time when I was younger, shaking out coins, counting them, stacking them and carefully putting them back in again.

It’s made it all the way from Smithdale, Mississippi, to Huntsville, Alabama, and then Atlanta.

It’s still doing its job beautifully, holding the coins fished out of pockets and the bottom of my purse. The only difference is that I don’t really have the urge to shake them out and sort them anymore.

Not much of an urge, that is.

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Christmas

Matching jumpsuits for Christmas: My family was multiple shades of awesome in 1976.

Actually, we’re still pretty awesome, even with fewer matching jumpsuits.

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I love this well-aged photo of myself, circa 1973. No photo filter apps involved – just an old photo biding its time in an album for a few decades.

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