Monthly Archives: August 2014

Now, Where Did I Put Those Clowns?

If, like me, you are old enough to remember these wonderful people then this will make you laugh/cry.

If you are too young to remember, watch and learn well.

And Uh-One, And Uh-Two…

Everybody dance, dance, dance!



Sometimes a great notion ***WARNING – May be triggers ahead, I don’t know I don’t suffer depression***

Ever have an idea that you couldn’t shake?  A feeling, maybe playing at the edge of your consciousness that constantly reaches in and tickles your brain, making you lose track on the highway and almost miss your exit?  Okay, maybe the last part only happened to me, but you know what I mean.

So on April 11th, Robin Williams, the brilliant actor and comedian died.  He couldn’t see a reason to go on anymore, so he didn’t, he came to the end of his rope…literally.   And, while I’m not a person who gets all wrapped up in the life of a celebrity, this time it stuck with me for longer than I expected.  It was because this celebrity suffered from depression; the lying, evil, conniving bitch that affects millions of people.  And if someone so beloved as Robin Williams felt worthless and hopeless, unloved and unlovable, then how do ordinary people struggling with this wretched disease live on day to day?

I pondered these things as I sat on the couch absently petting my beautiful rescue dog, Josey.  Her fur was so soft, her presence a calming influence…

Calming? Influence?

Wait…there was a flicker in a far corner of my brain, so I went to investigate.

Unfortunately, I got distracted by the rather large pet bed I promised to crochet and donate to a local dog rescue group for a fundraiser in three weeks.  Three weeks, people!  *hyperventilates*

Dog. Rescue. Group.

Calming. Dog. Rescue.

There was that flicker again.  This time, I turned to face it and watched the scene play out in my head.

What if the difference in hopeful and hopeless for a person suffering depression was a dog?

Then, this morning, my “Daily Deal” from Audible. Com – and if you are not a member, go join now, I’ll wait….

Back so soon?  What’s your first read?  Mine was “A Kiss Before Dying”…awesome book.

But, I digress.

My daily deal today was “Izzy and Lenore”, by Jon Katz.   I’d never heard of the author, but one listen to the sample play and I was mesmerized. The man writes about rescue dogs, and how they affect lives, lives filled with challenges from dementia to I don’t know what.  I bought the book, “Liked” his Facebook page, and asked to join the creative group that’s an offshoot of his Bedlam Farm.

I thought back to Josey, and how my life has changed because of her.  She’s a feral rescue, and she requires so much patience, love, understanding, and time that I’ve had to change.  I’ve had to become quieter, calmer, more understanding.

There were those words again: dog, rescue, calm.

So far, I’ve formed the idea fully in my head but the details are wherein lies the devil.

In broad terms, I’d love to find a way to connect people struggling with depression with a way up and out of the abyss.

I have a lot of research to do first.

You’ll just have to stay tuned to see if I can make this happen.


R.I.P. Mrs. Doubtfire

I don’t have any grand words of wisdom, and not being one who suffers from mental illness, I don’t fully understand the disease.

What I do know is Robin Williams is gone because he found no other solution, and I’m sad.

But, I’m also happy he gave us Mrs. Doubtfire – my personal favorite.

And so many pearls of wisdom – go on over to BuzzFeed and you’ll see what I mean.

So, carpe diem my friends and if you need help, ask for it.  Reach out to friends, family, clergy, or any one of the available hotlines.

You’re not alone.  You’ll never be alone.



Tom Who?

Well, August started weird…sigh…

You see, there’s an online yard/garage sale site for my little town and I’ve managed to get a bunch of stuff without having to drive from garage sale to garage sale in the heat, wade through things that are sticky and questionable to find any type of useful object, and waste entire weekends.

It works like this – people post pics and prices on stuff they want to get rid of, and the first person to commit to buying gets it.  The item is left on a front porch, and the money to pay for it is put under the front porch mat.

Usually, that’s how it works.

But not Friday, not for me it didn’t….of course not.

I saw the most adorable little music box thing with a kitty in overalls, batting a butterfly, on top.  It was from a Beatrix Potter collection. I had no idea who the character was, not being a devotee of the writer.

Apparently, though, this character was very near and dear to the woman who decided to sell the kitsch to me.

In an e-mail I asked that she put it on her porch and I’d run by her house, slip the money under the mat, pick up the porcelain kitty and be on my way.

No, no..that wouldn’t do she replied, she must “put it in your loving hands…”

Ohhhhhhhhhhhkay….I double-checked to be certain we were discussing a porcelain doo-hickey and not a real kitty.

That should have been my first clue, but they don’t call me “Clueless Cleo” for nothing.

Actually, ‘they’ don’t call me that…but they should….sometimes…

So I agreed to go to her house and pick up the kitty.

When I got there, and knocked on the door, I was greeted by the nice Beatrix Potter fan and her two kitties.   They were real, and so was she.

She led me to a back room, and after we entered she closed the door behind us.

I admit I got real nervous for a moment.

Nevermind that she was much older than me, I was trapped in a very cluttered little room with someone I had just met.

It was……uncomfortable.

She took the porcelain music-box (did I mention it plays “Claire de Lune”?) kitty off a shelf, and stroking it she cooed, “There’s my pretty baby….here you go.” as she handed it to me.

“Take good care of Tom Kitty.” she said, smiling as I took it from her.

“Who?” I replied, wondering why she named her porcelain figurines a second before I realized this was a Beatrix Potter character.

Her face darkened…I mean really, kinda scary-looking, darkened.

“That’s his name.” she said, coldly.

I suddenly felt as though I were being accused of kidnapping a porcelain cat for nefarious purposes.

“Oh, oh of course!” I smiled, a little too brightly.

Her face relaxed as she returned my smile.  Her eyes, though, showed her mistrust.

She opened the door and led me down the hallway again, chattering on about her newest rescue kitty, and other things.  I wasn’t really paying attention as I just wanted to leave; the whole encounter having left me creeped out.

Since then I’ve noticed some other amazing pieces of artwork and antiques she listed for sale, but there’s no way I’m buying anything if it means going back to that house.

Not now. Not ever.