<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4652527714810038783</id><updated>2011-07-30T15:27:37.488-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Life is more than what it appears...</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://owenthecat.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4652527714810038783/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://owenthecat.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Jennie Holmes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08879093916636152653</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='20' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_O_bMWPc51jc/R7OorXNI9oI/AAAAAAAAAAU/1-oaaRZvV-c/S220/497349509_f929349655_m.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>99</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4652527714810038783.post-3207665064280480541</id><published>2009-11-09T10:04:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-11-09T10:26:50.780-05:00</updated><title type='text'>baby and the botox</title><content type='html'>Owen continues to be my source of constant comfort. He is well for a 20+ year old kitty. The vet was impressed with his recent blood work. He continues to eat and drink. He purrs and he climbs although he prefers his dutiful owner carry him to and fro.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Recently I had to go see my botox doctor to loosen my tight muscles and spastic tendency whenever i lift my left leg. He was more than happy with my progress. He said that most come after only a few months and I stayed away almost two years. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To say i was relieved is not beginning to capture the crumpled mess of emotions that had become balled up into my gut as I walked into the outpatient clinic. Sitting from left to right was a tired eyed man looking off into the distance. A woman using her walker as an ottoman with her plastic immobilizer of her knee. Then there was the warm filled smile of the elderly man holding his loves hand as they waited. She had difficulty focusing her eyes seemed to stay in the same position although her head turned in acknowledgment. Her demeanor was pensive as she asked when my appt was. "11:15" I mentioned. He answered for her ours is for 11 but we waited for 15 minutes last time." Yes, he is running late at times, I said. "give him a hard time now, I smiled knowingly at him. yes, yes I will. he held her hand a little tighter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The door opened and they were invited in to sit waiting for one of my favorite doctors. As he arrived gave them an update and then said their pleasentries I went to the assistants desk and came to find all of my information was incorrect. All of those grumblings inside of me waiting for an opportunity to snap or snark to the next person to say the wrong thing were successfully kept at bay this time as I corrected the mistakes and feigned a smile as a necessary action. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dr. Finch's face lightened and he invited me in to give him an update. He was proud and glad to see this frustrated, fragile patient. He saw me as the motivated attractive young patient who had done exceptionally well for almost two years. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All I knew was that I was in pain. I was exhausted. I was ready to burst into tears. Yet he saw what I could not see. The inward strength that had been dormant as the emotions of the moment did a tap dance on her hip reminding me only of all of my failings and missteps. His view and knowledge of me carried me out in a cloud of acceptance. I will schedule the appointment. I have the right diagnosis. Who knew spastic diplegia would be called the Right diagnosis.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am reminded that we must lean on the understandings of others when we are weighted down by our doubts and fears. There is always more than our feelings to our lives. We are stronger than we think.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4652527714810038783-3207665064280480541?l=owenthecat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://owenthecat.blogspot.com/feeds/3207665064280480541/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4652527714810038783&amp;postID=3207665064280480541' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4652527714810038783/posts/default/3207665064280480541'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4652527714810038783/posts/default/3207665064280480541'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://owenthecat.blogspot.com/2009/11/baby-and-botox.html' title='baby and the botox'/><author><name>Jennie Holmes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08879093916636152653</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='20' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_O_bMWPc51jc/R7OorXNI9oI/AAAAAAAAAAU/1-oaaRZvV-c/S220/497349509_f929349655_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4652527714810038783.post-3933864903211031691</id><published>2009-06-10T08:05:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-06-10T08:18:05.122-05:00</updated><title type='text'>growing roses....they still have thorns</title><content type='html'>The garden has become my happy place.  Its so funny that this has become something I enjoy.  I thought for sure this would not be the case.  that is what I get for all those gardeners in the family.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I am out there Owen comes and sits or lays down.  I cant type as we speak because he is trying to get me to pet him.  My love is 21.  I am 44 so that makes him 21.  I think he can vote now. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My Owen is slowing down.  He isn't as loud, he isn't steady on his feet, he is frail.  But....he loves his heating pad and he loves being next to me.  We are a pair.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4652527714810038783-3933864903211031691?l=owenthecat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://owenthecat.blogspot.com/feeds/3933864903211031691/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4652527714810038783&amp;postID=3933864903211031691' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4652527714810038783/posts/default/3933864903211031691'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4652527714810038783/posts/default/3933864903211031691'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://owenthecat.blogspot.com/2009/06/growing-rosesthey-still-have-thorns.html' title='growing roses....they still have thorns'/><author><name>Jennie Holmes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08879093916636152653</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='20' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_O_bMWPc51jc/R7OorXNI9oI/AAAAAAAAAAU/1-oaaRZvV-c/S220/497349509_f929349655_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4652527714810038783.post-2582479004679702087</id><published>2009-03-11T10:32:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2009-03-11T11:01:03.105-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Spring?</title><content type='html'>March 11, 2009&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hear that spring is on its way but there is still snow here. We just had 5 or so inches fall on Gloucester this past Monday. All the while the radio was telling me that rain only rain, was falling everywhere else. Or at least that is how it felt. Owen continues to snuggle next to my head, he doesn't want to go outside these days. There was a tease of 2 60 degree days he made it out for 2 minutes. He did bask in the sun after i opened the back door for him. I have to admit I want to cut, cut, cut those tufts off. I am trying to accept and ignore but its hard!!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Owen has met my newest boyfriend. He was yelling so loud that even the man with a hearing aid was like, &lt;br /&gt;"wow your cat is loud."&lt;br /&gt;"He is deaf," I said.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My man couldn't believe it. So yes, its true, now the two most important males in my life can't hear me. They can and do listen though. That is what is most important. He likes owen but has to be careful. He is allergic but not terribly so, at least this is what he tells me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So Owen has given the Mrow of approval as have I. This one is truthful, caring, kind and hysterically funny. He isn't freaked by my CP as I am not concerned about his hearing loss. He is a fixer as most men tend to be, but I know it comes from a good place. He doesn't make promises he can't keep, he doesn't take advantage, he does respect me. I just have to keep remembering that most of all, I need to respect myself. People treat us the way we ALLOW them to treat us. I didn't think I would ever accept disrespect, and yet I have. I have a choice here and I choose to respect and expect to be respected by others.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not everyone will love me unconditionally as Owen does, but I can care that much for myself to not allow poor treatment again. I am thankful so thankful for this opportunity to get to know and be with a quality man and have yet another season with my beloved, Owen. MROW&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4652527714810038783-2582479004679702087?l=owenthecat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://owenthecat.blogspot.com/feeds/2582479004679702087/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4652527714810038783&amp;postID=2582479004679702087' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4652527714810038783/posts/default/2582479004679702087'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4652527714810038783/posts/default/2582479004679702087'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://owenthecat.blogspot.com/2009/03/march-11-2009-i-hear-that-spring-is-on.html' title='Spring?'/><author><name>Jennie Holmes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08879093916636152653</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='20' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_O_bMWPc51jc/R7OorXNI9oI/AAAAAAAAAAU/1-oaaRZvV-c/S220/497349509_f929349655_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4652527714810038783.post-54986326862238641</id><published>2009-02-14T09:54:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-14T10:15:37.145-05:00</updated><title type='text'>loving even the tufts</title><content type='html'>Owen gave me a large toothy grin this morning.  Haven't had the pleasure of the grin in a while.  I watched him have some sort of seizure in his sleep and then he awoke, startled, scared, disoriented?  I don't know but when he saw I was there I received a nice mrow.    He has taken to a new place on the bed it is the first place the sun hits from the crack let open by the curtain.  He is no dummy that is for sure. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am trying to not be bothered by the tufts much like someone in a long time relationship who can't believe she or he did that thing...leave the seat up, fart in public, snore, not put the parmesian back in the fridge, its cheese after all.  They don't bother him  as much as they bother me and after all its his body.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;On this the day for lovers, and candy and Hallmark business tycoons, I don't mind being single.  I know what I want now,   I have been trying to taste all that is sweet instead of realizing I have been getting splenda when I ask for sugar.  What is the point of being with someone unless they or you really want them? I am coming to this conclusion  (finally)  Its best to not to have anything in ones coffee than to have the thing that is only a cheap substitute anyhow.  It seems so simple yet in practice when loneliness or fear creeps and will not be kept at bay things happen.  There is wreckage.  I don't have to get shipwrecked every time, this i know now.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;I still cry when I miss those with whom I have loved.  I want a miracle to take the sadness the sometimes overwhelms when I think of all the stupid things I did to hold on foolishly to that which was not mine to begin with.  All I can do now is look forward and hope for another day with the love that never lets me down and pray I can let him go with grace when it is his time to go.  I just always hope for one more day.  That is what I am given.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4652527714810038783-54986326862238641?l=owenthecat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://owenthecat.blogspot.com/feeds/54986326862238641/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4652527714810038783&amp;postID=54986326862238641' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4652527714810038783/posts/default/54986326862238641'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4652527714810038783/posts/default/54986326862238641'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://owenthecat.blogspot.com/2009/02/loving-even-tufts.html' title='loving even the tufts'/><author><name>Jennie Holmes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08879093916636152653</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='20' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_O_bMWPc51jc/R7OorXNI9oI/AAAAAAAAAAU/1-oaaRZvV-c/S220/497349509_f929349655_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4652527714810038783.post-1173567291501911239</id><published>2009-02-05T22:12:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-05T22:43:05.175-05:00</updated><title type='text'>20 years or yesterday</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;he sleeps, i type, he tries to walk on the keys, i grumble,  i move him, he climbs back to where he wants to be, he falls off the couch and i feel awful.  a typical night here.  some nights i laugh as i type.  sometimes i cry and type.  mostly i watch, read, type or  as i just did, i  lift Owen back onto the couch and again the same thing.  now that he is awake it means he will lick my fingers as i type.  this is honestly the only thing i consider completely yucky.  trust me on this one when one has an elderly cat there are several possibilities for yuckiness.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;mary and i had a great conversation last night.  owen's official other mommy.  its hard for her to believe he is still our crazy stray from years past.  mary and bri have three boys.  their third child has some serious challenges.  he is her love.  she extends all she can and i am sure he is one of the most loved people in her world.  she knows intuitively i get it.  20 years doesn't mean much to us.  she is my sister more than my friend.  some are like that.  those you know time, space. fighting, years, sometimes it matters other times not.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;no one has it easy even if you meet the love of your life at 20, are beautiful the sort of beauty that stops men in their tracks on a regular basis, or is living in a much warmer climate.  i am so tired of watching able bodied people chose to ruin their bodies, bemoan their awfulness, and refuse to try and change that which makes them miserable.   I want to trade in all those able bodies and trade all those sick bodies so the misery would be in ones mind and body and those who didn't "deserve" the misery wouldn't have it.  Oh yeah, that would not be in this life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All i know is i want to be known, to love unselfishly, to be present, as present as i am with those kids, day after day, i want the sort of life personally that i have professionally which means i have to be honest, true and unapologetic for that which means the most to me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4652527714810038783-1173567291501911239?l=owenthecat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://owenthecat.blogspot.com/feeds/1173567291501911239/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4652527714810038783&amp;postID=1173567291501911239' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4652527714810038783/posts/default/1173567291501911239'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4652527714810038783/posts/default/1173567291501911239'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://owenthecat.blogspot.com/2009/02/20-years-or-yesterday.html' title='20 years or yesterday'/><author><name>Jennie Holmes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08879093916636152653</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='20' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_O_bMWPc51jc/R7OorXNI9oI/AAAAAAAAAAU/1-oaaRZvV-c/S220/497349509_f929349655_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4652527714810038783.post-6847981081719629585</id><published>2009-02-01T19:32:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-01T19:37:24.916-05:00</updated><title type='text'>25 random things...</title><content type='html'>This was a facebook thing write twenty five random things but because I began with my beloved, Owen it deserves a spot&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. My 20 year old cat, Owen was named after Danny De Vito in Throw Mama From the Train.&lt;br /&gt;2. I talk to people and smile and mostly they smile back (mostly)&lt;br /&gt;3. Some of my favorite clothes were purchased at the Salvation Army&lt;br /&gt;4. I attended Seminary and interned at a state mental hospital in the same year.&lt;br /&gt;5. My real name is Jennie not Jennifer. I have the same name as my mom.&lt;br /&gt;6. I used to dream of being the bionic woman and marrying the six million dollar man.&lt;br /&gt;7. Once while playing in a church my friend and I stole a communion wafer. I thought God would never forgive me….but now I know better.&lt;br /&gt;8. I think having compassion showing mercy is more important that being convinced of being right&lt;br /&gt;9. Finding friends from years past on face book makes me happy b/c I am terrible with keeping in touch.&lt;br /&gt;10. I love that my family loves everyone even when we don’t like each other very much.&lt;br /&gt;11. I have learned its harder to be honest but makes me a better friend that being “nice”&lt;br /&gt;12. The New York Giants, Springsteen and Bono have gotten me through many a tough times.&lt;br /&gt;13. It still hurts when people ask "why I just don’t get a handicapped sticker.?"&lt;br /&gt;14. It took me a long time to learn how to ride a bike, when I did, It was one of the happiest days of my life. My first bike had a blue sparlkling bananna seat!&lt;br /&gt;15. I was convinced from before I can remember that there is a God who loves all of us all the time.&lt;br /&gt; 16. I am grateful for all the children and teenagers I have had had the opportunity to meet.&lt;br /&gt;17. Smelling freshly cut grass makes me smile especially after I have mowed it.&lt;br /&gt;18. I say the lords prayer when ever I am stressed to myself and it calms me down.&lt;br /&gt;19. Going as fast as I can on a horse, car or boat takes me to an ideal place.&lt;br /&gt;20 Living by the water my entire life has made me cherish how fortunate I have been.&lt;br /&gt;21. I believe and know sobriety is always an option no matter the addiction.&lt;br /&gt;22. I collect and love any children’s book written by Joan Walsh Anguld&lt;br /&gt;23. I trust my intuition but seek to talk less and listen more.&lt;br /&gt;24. I idealize romantic love but know, its more important for me be loved and known on the inside more than the outside.&lt;br /&gt;25. I remain hopeful despite the terrible state of the world, thanks in part to my amazing friends and family.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4652527714810038783-6847981081719629585?l=owenthecat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://owenthecat.blogspot.com/feeds/6847981081719629585/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4652527714810038783&amp;postID=6847981081719629585' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4652527714810038783/posts/default/6847981081719629585'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4652527714810038783/posts/default/6847981081719629585'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://owenthecat.blogspot.com/2009/02/25-random-things.html' title='25 random things...'/><author><name>Jennie Holmes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08879093916636152653</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='20' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_O_bMWPc51jc/R7OorXNI9oI/AAAAAAAAAAU/1-oaaRZvV-c/S220/497349509_f929349655_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4652527714810038783.post-7696090080278834450</id><published>2009-01-31T10:14:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-31T10:24:36.163-05:00</updated><title type='text'>we like heating pads</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;Owen is now hogging up the new heat pad on the bed.  So not only does he have the cozy blue comforter he also has taken over the heating bad.  Any other male that made this mistake might have an argument coming his way but Owen gets or has a special pass in my heart.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;The latest trial Owen survived was his silly mommy deciding that if she used her favorite expensive "moisturizing balm"  on his fur and his matted parts especially she would be able to get more of the matts out without touching his fur.  Well all was going according to plan before i realized.....Oh no, I have to rinse this out.  It would have to be one of the coldest days of the year mind you.  Bad Mommy rides again.  So I placed him in the since rinsed him wrapped him up in a towel, placed him on the sunny part of the bed, and then turned the heating pad on.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;I did get out many of the matts.  He does smell wonderful.  I realize though that I thought I was doing that all for his benefit when really, I just hate to feel those matts.  He just likes to be pet.  matts and all.  Sometimes altruism exists more often than not, I am just selfish.  So glad Owen loves me anyhow.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4652527714810038783-7696090080278834450?l=owenthecat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://owenthecat.blogspot.com/feeds/7696090080278834450/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4652527714810038783&amp;postID=7696090080278834450' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4652527714810038783/posts/default/7696090080278834450'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4652527714810038783/posts/default/7696090080278834450'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://owenthecat.blogspot.com/2009/01/we-like-heating-pads.html' title='we like heating pads'/><author><name>Jennie Holmes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08879093916636152653</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='20' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_O_bMWPc51jc/R7OorXNI9oI/AAAAAAAAAAU/1-oaaRZvV-c/S220/497349509_f929349655_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4652527714810038783.post-8454870959163937107</id><published>2009-01-22T09:34:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-22T09:40:54.277-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Barack</title><content type='html'>inauguration day....full of tears...the heaving sort, lots of tissues....watching it all over when i got home cuddled up with my kid with fur.  to hope for change, fight for change, be a part of change.  so easy for me to despair, fear, want to hide.  Ruby didn't, Rosa didn't, I have to fight not to.  If owen can still hobble around, so can I.  If we can as a people stand out in the cold just to see a jumbo tran and a man become president of the united states named Barack Obama of all things then we can we must work to improving the quality of all of our lives.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4652527714810038783-8454870959163937107?l=owenthecat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://owenthecat.blogspot.com/feeds/8454870959163937107/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4652527714810038783&amp;postID=8454870959163937107' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4652527714810038783/posts/default/8454870959163937107'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4652527714810038783/posts/default/8454870959163937107'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://owenthecat.blogspot.com/2009/01/barack.html' title='Barack'/><author><name>Jennie Holmes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08879093916636152653</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='20' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_O_bMWPc51jc/R7OorXNI9oI/AAAAAAAAAAU/1-oaaRZvV-c/S220/497349509_f929349655_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4652527714810038783.post-583316611965406464</id><published>2008-12-29T22:05:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-29T22:06:34.956-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Tangled up in Blue</title><content type='html'>Its been a while I have had something to Chronicle regarding my beloved Owen. He sleeps and as my friend “Denise says, “He eats like a horse.” He goes through one can during the day and another at night. These are all signs that maybe just maybe he will be the first cat ever to not die. At least he will be the cat that never dies in my heart.&lt;br /&gt;My family made homage to my dear sweet feline, I now have a plaque that reads, “Only my cat understands me.” In this case I fear it might be true but I have worked hard to be more open with friends. With family I work to protect myself more, and am happier for it. My body continues to be a struggle between what I want to believe to be true and what is true…ugh. Owen continues to struggle with hobbling or as a friend recently mentioning…click click click click go the nails that I am too afraid to have clipped. He is just a little slower, a little older, a little louder, and a little closer to this loving heart of mine.&lt;br /&gt;He is beyond happy about the new blue down comforter that spends more time tangled than spread over the bed. It works for him and it keeps me warm. Its just another comfort for the both of us after a long hard day of not getting to snuggle next to one another b/c one of us has to pay the proverbial bills.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4652527714810038783-583316611965406464?l=owenthecat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://owenthecat.blogspot.com/feeds/583316611965406464/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4652527714810038783&amp;postID=583316611965406464' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4652527714810038783/posts/default/583316611965406464'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4652527714810038783/posts/default/583316611965406464'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://owenthecat.blogspot.com/2008/12/tangled-up-in-blue.html' title='Tangled up in Blue'/><author><name>Jennie Holmes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08879093916636152653</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='20' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_O_bMWPc51jc/R7OorXNI9oI/AAAAAAAAAAU/1-oaaRZvV-c/S220/497349509_f929349655_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4652527714810038783.post-1353612706100733312</id><published>2008-11-29T22:36:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-29T22:50:36.648-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Thanksgiving</title><content type='html'>Going around the room in a staff meeting was a no brainer when the inevitable question arises...What is everyone thankful this year?....usually the ugh....lets see there is the i can't walk, I'm in pain, i am heartbroken......no not this year....I got to say I am thankful for my Owen all 20 years worth of him.  He will be 21 this year.  Each day is just another gift and reminder to me that love exists. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I walk these days.  I am stiff but as a friend said,  you are not in pain and not crying all the time  so life is pretty darn great.  One of the weird things about botox is though it helped ease my gait, it made me aware of the utter strengthless body I have. Without the hyper tone.  I can barely go up stairs.  I  thought all this time it was muscle and now I know its spacticity   I never thought I would say I was thankful for spacticity, but there it is I am.  I can climb stairs again.  For months this has been more difficult than I care to mention. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So rather get all wound up about what I can not do, or all the things I do not have, I am thankful for my Owen, my friends, my family even though they will never know me the way I might hope for, my yard and right now my newly made warm and cozy bed.  Focusing on what is good really does help life seem worth living and worth caring for people despite the risk that entails.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4652527714810038783-1353612706100733312?l=owenthecat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://owenthecat.blogspot.com/feeds/1353612706100733312/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4652527714810038783&amp;postID=1353612706100733312' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4652527714810038783/posts/default/1353612706100733312'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4652527714810038783/posts/default/1353612706100733312'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://owenthecat.blogspot.com/2008/11/thanksgiving.html' title='Thanksgiving'/><author><name>Jennie Holmes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08879093916636152653</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='20' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_O_bMWPc51jc/R7OorXNI9oI/AAAAAAAAAAU/1-oaaRZvV-c/S220/497349509_f929349655_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4652527714810038783.post-6349609047262176021</id><published>2008-10-25T22:19:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-10-25T22:31:11.428-05:00</updated><title type='text'>nails and tails.</title><content type='html'>Owen sleeps now after a long pat.  I am continually looking at him, amazed he is still around.  He eats more than ever almost two cans a day.  There is no signs of inability to digest and he keeps his food down.  I feel like its a miracle after all the difficulties he once had with his food.  Perhaps just having the vets food, is all he really needed.  For now any how.  He has gotten used to our new configuration in the bedroom.  Given that my bed takes up all the room anyhow, its not much of a change, but at least its different. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got rid of all the wire hangers in the closet today.  He just sat up and watched.  One thing checked off the list.  Making the bed I made sure to place the blankets in the order that causes him least stress.  I hate the meow that accompanies the "I can't unclaw my nail, and its going to get pulled off!!!! meow."  One of the worse of the repertoire.  He has taken to the habit of trying to scoot out the front door and so today he not only got some time outside but was plenty frustrated, when I let him in some hours later.   Yes, I did forget he was out there as a matter of fact.  Oh did I get a scolding.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is yet another attribute that i adore....he never ceases to surprise me with the sounds, the looks, the loyalty.  He truly is a gift to remind me that love exists.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4652527714810038783-6349609047262176021?l=owenthecat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://owenthecat.blogspot.com/feeds/6349609047262176021/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4652527714810038783&amp;postID=6349609047262176021' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4652527714810038783/posts/default/6349609047262176021'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4652527714810038783/posts/default/6349609047262176021'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://owenthecat.blogspot.com/2008/10/nails-and-tails.html' title='nails and tails.'/><author><name>Jennie Holmes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08879093916636152653</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='20' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_O_bMWPc51jc/R7OorXNI9oI/AAAAAAAAAAU/1-oaaRZvV-c/S220/497349509_f929349655_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4652527714810038783.post-344178740017399209</id><published>2008-06-14T20:16:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2008-07-13T11:30:02.763-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Today is the day</title><content type='html'>This week has been one of recouping. I finally feel like I can function of a reasonable way in all of the areas of my life. My garden is wonderful and continues to bring me joy. I planted marigolds today because I was told the smell of the flowers dissuades the bugs from getting on the tomatoes. We shall see. I got more perennials. Madelene helped me plant some daisy like plaints. that should spread on the rocks. I planted a few more that will not flower this year but next year. I have some more ground cover to plant but overall things are working out. Its lots of time and energy and I am more than happy to put that in to something that will bloom and grow. Something that will appreciate water and sun and care. Something that can be loved without rejection.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Owen is so soft right now. All of the old fur is gone. No nasty tufts anywhere. He has meewed lots today lot of half purring and satisfaction. We have something in common now.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4652527714810038783-344178740017399209?l=owenthecat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://owenthecat.blogspot.com/feeds/344178740017399209/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4652527714810038783&amp;postID=344178740017399209' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4652527714810038783/posts/default/344178740017399209'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4652527714810038783/posts/default/344178740017399209'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://owenthecat.blogspot.com/2008/06/today-is-day.html' title='Today is the day'/><author><name>Jennie Holmes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08879093916636152653</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='20' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_O_bMWPc51jc/R7OorXNI9oI/AAAAAAAAAAU/1-oaaRZvV-c/S220/497349509_f929349655_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4652527714810038783.post-7947099297053883799</id><published>2008-06-08T21:21:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-06-08T21:28:18.024-05:00</updated><title type='text'>relief</title><content type='html'>This weekend was one full of activity.  I did not cry or bemoan my life.  I worked in the garden, worked in my bedroom.  I cooked and cleaned.  I saw friends,  I went out to lunch and out to a band with friends I haven't seen in a long time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was honest about my difficulties and received support.  I still had some disappointment but overall, I was relieved.  I was thankful that I had gone to graduation,  glad I saw Evan,  and my other Evan.  I am aware that people like me at work and want to spend time with me.    This is what it feels like to not be depressed all the time.  It is what hope brings.    Besides, I bought an electric lawn mower.  AWESOME.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4652527714810038783-7947099297053883799?l=owenthecat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://owenthecat.blogspot.com/feeds/7947099297053883799/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4652527714810038783&amp;postID=7947099297053883799' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4652527714810038783/posts/default/7947099297053883799'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4652527714810038783/posts/default/7947099297053883799'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://owenthecat.blogspot.com/2008/06/relief.html' title='relief'/><author><name>Jennie Holmes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08879093916636152653</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='20' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_O_bMWPc51jc/R7OorXNI9oI/AAAAAAAAAAU/1-oaaRZvV-c/S220/497349509_f929349655_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4652527714810038783.post-251570431771600151</id><published>2008-06-01T20:46:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-07-13T11:34:01.381-05:00</updated><title type='text'>choosing to be thankful</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;Owen came outside with me today. He laid on the grass as I mulched, watered, weeded and sweat. He loves to just lay in the sun. I think its the most he has stayedout in quite some time. I continue to be surprised by my enjoyment of gardening, tending, watering and watching pretty things grow. I have to keep remembering that I have and will grow. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt; I am glad to just take a break from the whole dating thing and pressure. I am so thankful I can walk. I continue to be stubborn when it comes to stretching although, I really have no choice at this point. I get so afraid, I get paralysed. If I just ignore it I will hope it just goes away. It doesn't though. This is my lot, this is my problem. All of us have them some people can hide some people can't. I take everything to heart so much. I want to let go. I want to not worry so much. I want to believe that I am worth all the things I believe about the children with whom I work. I want to be a contented person. I want to walk with my head held high and my soul knowing I am everything the Lord has made me to be. I want to know of his love and his care and his understanding. I want to tread lightly and take life as it comes. I want to live in the knowledge that my life even if it ends tomorrow, has meant something to someone.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4652527714810038783-251570431771600151?l=owenthecat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://owenthecat.blogspot.com/feeds/251570431771600151/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4652527714810038783&amp;postID=251570431771600151' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4652527714810038783/posts/default/251570431771600151'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4652527714810038783/posts/default/251570431771600151'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://owenthecat.blogspot.com/2008/06/choosing-to-be-thankful.html' title='choosing to be thankful'/><author><name>Jennie Holmes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08879093916636152653</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='20' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_O_bMWPc51jc/R7OorXNI9oI/AAAAAAAAAAU/1-oaaRZvV-c/S220/497349509_f929349655_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4652527714810038783.post-8801239217888969752</id><published>2008-05-26T19:59:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-05-26T20:18:57.581-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#003300;"&gt;I mowed the lawn today.  I don't think I can say I ever did that before.  I couldn't start the thing but after I had someone help me I mowed.  I have wanted to mow the lawn since I can't remember when.  My dad would never let me.  A mile stone this age of the middle that I reside.  I figured that since I am 43 and I got owen when I was 23  then he turns 20 this year.    Quite the milestone.    I wish I had a camera so I could take time lapsed photography of my garden.  I know I will end up  back at the nursury again.  there are more places to fill in.  I want more color and I don't want it to look so semetrical but more natural.  The flowers are settling  the watering schedule seems to be a part of my routine.  I even got a hanging plant inside.  This has the potential to mean I will have plants on the inside soon enough.  Wow.  Things really can and do change.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#003300;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#003300;"&gt;Owen continues to look well.  NO more nasty tufts.  The warm weather means I can pull them out withsome ease.  Yay.  He is so soft normally and it was hard to have to cut so many out.  I feared nicking him and fortunately that did not occur.  I am less out of shape more willing to get into a weight lifting routine.  less listless or depressed.  The idea of spending time with those other than my two closest friends seems less abhorent.  I just want to plan and do fun things with my friends.  I can not even imagine going on anything close to a date.  I don't feel like I have anything interesting to say besides.....I mowed the lawn!  Somehow, I don't think that will go over well as first date chit chat.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#003300;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#003300;"&gt;I did find one of my best buddies from college.  This makes me smile.  He, Jerry and I had some great fun and he was on the beach evangelism trip in 1985  that changed my life.  If only I had loved John Wilkinson I would have married him.  He loved me so much.  I still wonder if anyone will ever come close to loving me as  much as he did when we were 2o years old.  It must have been painful for him to watch me love another.  I know how he feels.  I still appreciated his care so much.  I am not sure if I just was way to afraid or if he just wasn't someone with whom I would have been compatible.  It is probably both of those.  There are some not many that match us intellectually, emotionally, physically and spiritually.  A friend said it well when he mentioned there is a difference in finding someone attractive and finding someone who might feed your soul.  Yes there is   and hopefully this is why I am single.  Believing and acting as if I am not good enough, worthy enough, deserving enough of love isn't working for me and frankly, isn't from the God with whom  I am continuing to learn how to love.  Thank you for allowing me to survive despite the odds, please help me to know that I was not a fluke, a mistake or disabled but loved as only you can.  AMEN.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4652527714810038783-8801239217888969752?l=owenthecat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://owenthecat.blogspot.com/feeds/8801239217888969752/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4652527714810038783&amp;postID=8801239217888969752' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4652527714810038783/posts/default/8801239217888969752'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4652527714810038783/posts/default/8801239217888969752'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://owenthecat.blogspot.com/2008/05/i-mowed-lawn-today.html' title=''/><author><name>Jennie Holmes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08879093916636152653</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='20' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_O_bMWPc51jc/R7OorXNI9oI/AAAAAAAAAAU/1-oaaRZvV-c/S220/497349509_f929349655_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4652527714810038783.post-3466088527424754805</id><published>2008-05-25T22:05:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2008-07-13T11:36:05.884-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Birthday girl or almost</title><content type='html'>Today I planted, weeded and watered. My yard is looking acceptable now. I have worked pretty hard the last few weeks and am really enjoying the whole process. Its quite a surprise I didn't expect to want to do this well. I keep thinking that this is what I need attention, watering and care. I just have to continue to work on doing it consistently for myself. I have learned how to garden, cooked, walked where I was afraid to walk, walked at all, stretched, stretched and some more stretching. I am hoping I can still get on a horse. I keep working but I am not sure I am doing all that I can or should be doing to keep myself healthy.  Thank you for helping me to heal and helping me to no give up on finding love. Thank you for teaching me and loving me even when I have a hard time thinking there is anything worth loving. Thank you for walking, thank you for gardening, thank you for giving Owen another healthy season. Thank you for resolving one of the most difficult cases I have ever encountered. Thank you for Kevin, Molly, Lizzy and Katy. Thank you for Joey and Margaret. Thank you that my family cares and forgives. Thank you that I have a place to live, a car to drive and a job I enjoy. Thank you for helping me be better. Thank you for loving me. Thank you for animals that remind me of your unconditional love. Thank you for my life. AMEN.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4652527714810038783-3466088527424754805?l=owenthecat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://owenthecat.blogspot.com/feeds/3466088527424754805/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4652527714810038783&amp;postID=3466088527424754805' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4652527714810038783/posts/default/3466088527424754805'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4652527714810038783/posts/default/3466088527424754805'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://owenthecat.blogspot.com/2008/05/birthday-girl-or-almost.html' title='Birthday girl or almost'/><author><name>Jennie Holmes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08879093916636152653</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='20' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_O_bMWPc51jc/R7OorXNI9oI/AAAAAAAAAAU/1-oaaRZvV-c/S220/497349509_f929349655_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4652527714810038783.post-2587498261019939406</id><published>2008-05-23T06:50:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-05-23T07:00:53.678-05:00</updated><title type='text'>lament</title><content type='html'>From another blogger:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love is AN ACTION.&lt;br /&gt;It’s a saying and statement that changed my life when I read it. I do not allow people to treat me unlovingly and then say “Sorry.” SORRY does not cut it. It is NOT OKAY for you to mistreat me and then say Sorry and think all will be will okay.&lt;br /&gt;It will not be. One too many sorry’s and you’re destined for the sorry trash heap.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;Its all well and good to read that and realize,  I am the one that is in the trash heap,  I said sorry over and over,  I let my standards, my interests, and my previous life drop off and now  I am rebuilding.  I am figuring out how not to make the same mistakes again.  I am almost 43 and trying to accept my middle age.  I have no male friends,  my girl friends are dealing with lots of stuff like me and we have little time for one another.  I miss having fun with Jason, playing backgammon, eating sushi,  but I don't miss the fights, the miscommunications, the desire to help when help was not desired, the shock and dismay of not getting our differences.  I miss not feeling so alone and the physical affection that was always there.  I hate there is nothing I can do to change the past, or the present.  Please stop contacting me is the last word.  OUCH.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4652527714810038783-2587498261019939406?l=owenthecat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://owenthecat.blogspot.com/feeds/2587498261019939406/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4652527714810038783&amp;postID=2587498261019939406' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4652527714810038783/posts/default/2587498261019939406'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4652527714810038783/posts/default/2587498261019939406'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://owenthecat.blogspot.com/2008/05/lament.html' title='lament'/><author><name>Jennie Holmes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08879093916636152653</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='20' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_O_bMWPc51jc/R7OorXNI9oI/AAAAAAAAAAU/1-oaaRZvV-c/S220/497349509_f929349655_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4652527714810038783.post-5010749391555804005</id><published>2008-05-21T21:09:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-05-21T21:11:43.174-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>today i had a walk without pain!!!! that is the first time in a while.  I have to stretch and stretch.  Owen broke my heart tonight.  He feel off the bed, he couldn't stop crying....meowing until i found him....so we cried together.  he waits for me to be ready to retire....God give me the strength to deal with what may come...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4652527714810038783-5010749391555804005?l=owenthecat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://owenthecat.blogspot.com/feeds/5010749391555804005/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4652527714810038783&amp;postID=5010749391555804005' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4652527714810038783/posts/default/5010749391555804005'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4652527714810038783/posts/default/5010749391555804005'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://owenthecat.blogspot.com/2008/05/today-i-had-walk-without-pain-that-is.html' title=''/><author><name>Jennie Holmes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08879093916636152653</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='20' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_O_bMWPc51jc/R7OorXNI9oI/AAAAAAAAAAU/1-oaaRZvV-c/S220/497349509_f929349655_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4652527714810038783.post-1791620959037798906</id><published>2008-05-20T22:12:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2008-07-13T11:37:58.537-05:00</updated><title type='text'>42 for six more days</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;I hope i can do this. I hope I can process and journal about why fulfilling and finding me feels and fears as if I am giving up on the possibility of being in a relationship. I have so enjoyed my gardening. I look at my yard with pride and gotten up early just to water. I have stretched and stretched just to not be in pain. I hate my body can not tolerate just getting out of bed but loving that I have the choice to walk for now. I love that i am training and accepted at work in a new way. I like that I am not afraid to confront when I need to let someone know how they make me feel regardless of their response. I am excited I have planned and booked my first vacation just for me in years....South WEST here I come. I can't believe I am old and childless but am not bitter and shriveled just questioning and hopeful that at some point I will come to understand something that still hurts. I am thankful for a loving group of friends and family despite their limitations. I LOVE my nephew and nieces and have so enjoyed riding the exciting wave of my nephew's recruiting frenzy....yeah he is a stud. Owen continues to amaze. He so enjoys the sun flowing into the bedroom while he stretches out to have the warmth touch each inch of his body. He is such a love. Please help me remember lord, how much you love me and help me to trust in your goodness and care. I am so glad I still love and care for those with whom feel unlovable.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4652527714810038783-1791620959037798906?l=owenthecat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://owenthecat.blogspot.com/feeds/1791620959037798906/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4652527714810038783&amp;postID=1791620959037798906' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4652527714810038783/posts/default/1791620959037798906'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4652527714810038783/posts/default/1791620959037798906'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://owenthecat.blogspot.com/2008/05/42-for-six-more-days.html' title='42 for six more days'/><author><name>Jennie Holmes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08879093916636152653</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='20' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_O_bMWPc51jc/R7OorXNI9oI/AAAAAAAAAAU/1-oaaRZvV-c/S220/497349509_f929349655_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4652527714810038783.post-1315742172302628757</id><published>2008-05-18T11:41:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-05-18T11:51:07.943-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Gardening and planting</title><content type='html'>This weekend I bought flowers and vegetables.  I planted perennials weeded some and weeded some more.  I cut down a dead bush, weeded and weeded.  Once one begins this endeavor one realize how much work there is to do.  I understand for the first time why gardening is addictive.  The goal is beauty.  The care and concern comes b/c these things are not just things they are living.  They need things from the gardener.  Did i mention weeding?  The beauty of perennials is they will keep coming back.  Next is my azalea and Rhodadendrons....I know they are small but they will grow and be beautiful.  My favorite is still my hydrangea.  its budding,  its come back to life.  And the best part is I got a flat garden hose at a yard sale and Wayne just told me they go for 30.00   yay for yard sales...I paid 3 for it!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4652527714810038783-1315742172302628757?l=owenthecat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://owenthecat.blogspot.com/feeds/1315742172302628757/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4652527714810038783&amp;postID=1315742172302628757' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4652527714810038783/posts/default/1315742172302628757'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4652527714810038783/posts/default/1315742172302628757'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://owenthecat.blogspot.com/2008/05/gardening-and-planting.html' title='Gardening and planting'/><author><name>Jennie Holmes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08879093916636152653</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='20' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_O_bMWPc51jc/R7OorXNI9oI/AAAAAAAAAAU/1-oaaRZvV-c/S220/497349509_f929349655_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4652527714810038783.post-7759342077320648331</id><published>2008-05-09T22:56:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-05-09T23:05:49.272-05:00</updated><title type='text'>yoda owen</title><content type='html'>Today I gave my first talk/presentation to the teachers with whom I work.  I was glad to be in a place where I had earned their respect.  I had not a lot to say but just enough for them to want to know more and to seek me out as a resource that could be of assistance to them.  Amazing.  Thank you for this opportunity.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have decided that Owen is another representation of the feline Yoda.  his ears fold in such away that it looks just like him.  Partly it is the purring and the appreciation of the petting.  Then there is the contentment and peace that he exudes after he has been fed or loved.  This is the sort of contentment for which I strive.  He is a love.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4652527714810038783-7759342077320648331?l=owenthecat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://owenthecat.blogspot.com/feeds/7759342077320648331/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4652527714810038783&amp;postID=7759342077320648331' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4652527714810038783/posts/default/7759342077320648331'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4652527714810038783/posts/default/7759342077320648331'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://owenthecat.blogspot.com/2008/05/yoda-owen.html' title='yoda owen'/><author><name>Jennie Holmes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08879093916636152653</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='20' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_O_bMWPc51jc/R7OorXNI9oI/AAAAAAAAAAU/1-oaaRZvV-c/S220/497349509_f929349655_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4652527714810038783.post-5466192378116645487</id><published>2008-05-04T20:35:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2008-05-04T20:49:18.774-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Doing the right thing even when I don't feel like it, feels good.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#330099;"&gt;I had one of those days that makes me smile.  I did things today and yesterday that made me feel like a good friend and a kind person.  I need to have days like this more often.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330099;"&gt;I love Brendan, He is one of the best 8 year old boys ever made, but boy I did not want to baby sit last night.  However it was Denise's birthday.  I had no plans.  I had no reason to say no except that I had weed whacked for the last hour, I was covered in freshly cut grass and I had to dye my hair.  Like I said, I had no real reason to say no.  Brendan and I watched the Sox game, we ate ice cream all was well with the world.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330099;"&gt;I love Trader Joe's.  Even before I met Evan I loved Trader Joe's.  Evan makes me laugh, he looks at me like I am pretty and he is adorable.  So I wrote him a thank you note today for helping me through one of the roughest days of  my recent past.  I was exhausted, depleted and hungry, Did I mention, HUNGRY.    Evan or should I say evin, as his name tag read made me laugh and the worst day, became an OK day.  He walked me to my car, he hugged me, and he said he was dating someone, but  I could honestly say, " That isn't why I wrote that card, or it is why I did not leave any way of contacting me, I did not want to have ulterior motives."  He inquired, he cared enough to want to know why I was so upset that day, and he still looked at me like I was pretty, and he seemed sad that he was seeing some one else.   I took a risk, and I am glad I did.  Now, he knows he made a positive impact on this sad, person, even if it was just for today.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4652527714810038783-5466192378116645487?l=owenthecat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://owenthecat.blogspot.com/feeds/5466192378116645487/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4652527714810038783&amp;postID=5466192378116645487' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4652527714810038783/posts/default/5466192378116645487'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4652527714810038783/posts/default/5466192378116645487'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://owenthecat.blogspot.com/2008/05/doing-right-thing-even-when-i-dont-feel.html' title='Doing the right thing even when I don&apos;t feel like it, feels good.'/><author><name>Jennie Holmes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08879093916636152653</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='20' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_O_bMWPc51jc/R7OorXNI9oI/AAAAAAAAAAU/1-oaaRZvV-c/S220/497349509_f929349655_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4652527714810038783.post-1133797572979910765</id><published>2008-05-03T13:08:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-05-03T13:40:55.498-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Catch and let go.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#00cccc;"&gt;Watching a movie per my usual Saturday routine.  I tried to weedwhack and made some headway then the rain was too much to fight.  I love the smell of fresh cut grass.  It was great being out there even going to building center was a rush.  There is a part of me that comes alive when I am outside.   It is a world I kept away from except for when I have been upset or sad.  What I have come realize though is that it makes me happy.  Walking or not, running or not.  It has held this place of reminder that there are things outside that I can't do.  I can't play tennis, I can't run marathons, I can't get the presidential award from Elementary school, I can't play football, I can't play baseball.  I can't sail but I want to learn, I can't tell what a weed is compared to a wild flower but I will learn.  I can't thread a weed whacking machine correctly as of yet but maybe tomorrow.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#00cccc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#00cccc;"&gt;I have my mom's wedding dress in my closet, I haven't worn it but maybe I will even if it isn't my wedding day.  It is a girl thing.  I miss Jason, I miss my Mom and sometimes my dad.  I miss Katrina, and Julie and Jesse and Manuel. I am freaked about being middle aged.   I am scared about being in pain again.  I have a life.  I read a lot about what it means to be a happy fulfilled person.  I like to help people, see them smile even if they are sad on the inside.  I like to love the unlovable.  I like to believe in the unbelievable.  I like to expect miracles.   I like that losing my wallet reminds me that I am a space shot and that God is still looking out for me.  I have come to understand that when push comes to shove  I will do for others before myself when I can and that does not make me a codependent idiot.  I say the lords prayer every day.  I hope that people learn about the God I have come to know, not the one that seeks to judge and to harm.  I know that children deserve to feel safe and be fed.  I know no one ever asks to be raped, beaten or killed.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#00cccc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#00cccc;"&gt;I know that living my life means I have to  act out my beliefs.  If I choose to not act on my beliefs.....they are not then, therefore, my actual beliefs.   I  will seek to inspire,  be inspired, and accept my life has been a culmination choices I made.  There is no one to blame or hold responsible.  If I am miserable with the cards I think I have been dealt then it is my fault for not getting different cards.  Taking a risk is the only way I have to learn, grow and be who I think I should, can and will be.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4652527714810038783-1133797572979910765?l=owenthecat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://owenthecat.blogspot.com/feeds/1133797572979910765/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4652527714810038783&amp;postID=1133797572979910765' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4652527714810038783/posts/default/1133797572979910765'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4652527714810038783/posts/default/1133797572979910765'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://owenthecat.blogspot.com/2008/05/catch-and-let-go.html' title='Catch and let go.'/><author><name>Jennie Holmes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08879093916636152653</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='20' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_O_bMWPc51jc/R7OorXNI9oI/AAAAAAAAAAU/1-oaaRZvV-c/S220/497349509_f929349655_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4652527714810038783.post-4355304305549353088</id><published>2008-04-30T19:42:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2008-04-30T20:07:55.863-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Grateful today</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;This morning Owen was in his usual position in a round ball next to my head. he feels when i move and gives me a mmmrrrr and goes back to sleep. This last week I have moved my curtain so that the sun shines in from the top of window. I made this concession b/c he loves to lay in the sun. Before going to work I found him postured toward the window with his eyes closed. One of the best gifts in my life is his hugs and purrs. I am grateful for this concrete reminder that I am loved.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The children with whom I work care for me too. Its been one of those weeks where I can look and see the difference I have made. Its a rare occurrence so I am going to celebrate. One young girl who has had more familial abuse and a mother dying of cancer is about to be adopted by a loving family. A brilliant young boy , blew everyone away with his amazing test scores proving that he is not a behavior problem just incredibly bored. He received a special plan to increase his academic challenges and teach to his learning style. The entire team loves this kid and was on the same page as to how to help him. This is amazing. Thank you for another reminder of my strengths and my worth in the midst of struggle.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4652527714810038783-4355304305549353088?l=owenthecat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://owenthecat.blogspot.com/feeds/4355304305549353088/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4652527714810038783&amp;postID=4355304305549353088' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4652527714810038783/posts/default/4355304305549353088'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4652527714810038783/posts/default/4355304305549353088'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://owenthecat.blogspot.com/2008/04/grateful-today.html' title='Grateful today'/><author><name>Jennie Holmes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08879093916636152653</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='20' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_O_bMWPc51jc/R7OorXNI9oI/AAAAAAAAAAU/1-oaaRZvV-c/S220/497349509_f929349655_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4652527714810038783.post-1193916356942810023</id><published>2008-04-29T19:02:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2008-04-29T20:04:38.204-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Someday</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;I can't decide if I have a life and just don't know it or if I just am so familiar with bemoaning my life or if I just expected to know what to do and I would all of a sudden have a life, a purpose a reason for living. I have been fine when it has come to my career. I seemed to know what I wanted what I was good at. I knew my strengths and knew my weaknesses. I thought I understood emotions, empathy, how to relate to others how to have real friendships. Now I look at those things and I wonder. I think my shyness really did inhibit my social development. More because I felt like I was not shy, people who made hurtful comments created a self-protected, brave young girl. This little girl did not come out of her shell until college. I think of all the social groups I became a part of so that could be friends and meet men. Christian men.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Dave Hornes Bible Study&lt;br /&gt;Park Street church cafe...and then Crossroads&lt;br /&gt;MeetChristians.com&lt;br /&gt;Grace Chapel/ Basics&lt;br /&gt;E Harmony&lt;br /&gt;Match.com&lt;br /&gt;Eight Minute Dating&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;I am sure I must be forgetting some along the way and I met no one with whom I connected for more than a few dates. I know I am not a perfect person. I know I have lots of flaws, but so do most people. I am attractive, I have a brain I do not expect someone to be gorgeous, rich, or without problems.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Its interesting that the two men I have had romantic relationships with did not believe in a God, a higher power, or considered the spiritual side of life particularly relevant. What does that say about me? Am I convinced that I have the power to change their mind? or it is that they verbalize and consider the doubts I used to/still have? Maybe its a little of both. Both of these men truly cared for me as a person but could not commit to me long term. Why did they not fall in love with me? Why do I chose men that do not fall in love with me the way I fall for them? These are things worth considering. I try to think about why this last break up feels so terrible as opposed to the one before. One thing was I said no contact and said that if I called him to tell him something to no call back. I set the rules....J set the rules for us after I could not handle the friendship thing. This exposed me in a way that was so embarrassing, humiliating, weak of me that he had to do what I knew and could not give myself all along. It also comes down to the real friendship I had with this man. It is a much deeper sense of loss than I have experienced previously. My first relationship really surrounded physical intimacy while this one was so much more of a friendship. Maybe part of that was his lack of romantic love for me. I think I owe him so much for showing me the unimportance of sex versus relationship. Sex is part of it but not the largest portion. The humiliation of the way things finally ended will be a wound not easily healed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was 39 without any romantic relationship experience. I had abstained for so long I had idealized the sexual part of the relationship because it was the one thing I had not experienced and FEAR of never having it propelled me into my first relationship which was not committed or in the long run healthy. With J. I learned some valuable lessons. Hopefully I will have an opportunity to benefit from what I think I might have learned with someone else.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am not sure all of this effort to meet men has been a worthwhile endeavor. Perhaps I should have spent more time trying to improve the quality of my life. The thing is I had a good job I had friends, I did not have romantic attachment. So that is what I thought would make me happier. I wonder what my life would have looked like if I had chosen to take anti-depressants ten years prior. Would this have made me a more comfortable, able to tolerate the awkwardness I feel around men? Is this what created such a late bloomer. I had to spend so much energy just trying to feel OK. I did not have too much more energy to help me in other areas of my life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want to put more energy into me, what makes me more content, maybe I will be alone and end up with cats, dogs, etc. I guess it could be worse. I could not have a job I enjoy not have a house that is my own, not have an incredible companion names Owen baby, not have people that care if I live or die, not be able to walk, be blind, or completely alone with no one. Even though I feel like I am alone, I have lots of people that care, I have no one to go to bed at night and wake up in the morning, I have no one to call and say goodnight, I have no one to help me change the light bulbs, or no one to get a pizza and watch a movie. I know I idealize the romantic relationship, I know I have watched way too many schmaltzy movies, and believed all those fairy tales as the gospel truth. I know I am wrong about many things but I do know I have the capacity to give my heart to someone and receive love from someone someday.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4652527714810038783-1193916356942810023?l=owenthecat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://owenthecat.blogspot.com/feeds/1193916356942810023/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4652527714810038783&amp;postID=1193916356942810023' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4652527714810038783/posts/default/1193916356942810023'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4652527714810038783/posts/default/1193916356942810023'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://owenthecat.blogspot.com/2008/04/someday.html' title='Someday'/><author><name>Jennie Holmes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08879093916636152653</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='20' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_O_bMWPc51jc/R7OorXNI9oI/AAAAAAAAAAU/1-oaaRZvV-c/S220/497349509_f929349655_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4652527714810038783.post-123329745130192294</id><published>2008-04-28T19:46:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2008-04-28T20:56:14.238-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The reasons I put up with all this Grieving sh@t</title><content type='html'>Grief is one of those things that can and will be worked out.  I have been reading the grief recovery handbook and will begin the exercises soon. This sucks...BUT,  What I appreciate so far is the premise that &lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;grief is real and has to be identified as such.&lt;/span&gt;  It also confirms what I had also come to understand that when I have experienced a loss every time I experiencing another one I react and mourn as if all of my losses are fresh and in front of me.  How validating to read it in a book from two people that are not in the psychological field but both sufferers of loss.  They were so aware of the lack of help or understanding of loss  they made it their lives work to help others who were grieving.   They offer hope.   Myths that don't help just make us feel worse.  Here is one that has make me feel awful....&lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&gt;Time heals&lt;/span&gt;.....&lt;span style="color:#996633;"&gt;Not if you don't do anything to heal&lt;/span&gt;.....I always hated this b/c I never seemed to heal with just time and felt I must be emotionally and physcially defective.  GREAT.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; Sunday I went through a whole roll of toilet paper and the water works felt like they  would never stop crying.  I hope feeling my feelings means i am healing.  Its exhausting to cry like that.  I did face some of my fears yesterday and walked the town in which he lives.  I have not been able to do that for several months for fear of running into him.  I cant live in fear.  I was thinking about the myth of safety.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have spent so much time trying to play it safe to avoid getting hurt but what that has done is just give me little practice in the life of the heart.  I felt most at home in the unrequited relationship reinforcing all those ideas that someone could not possibly love me.  I chose over and over to not look at the red flags the obvious messages that told me that there was no mutuality in the feelings I had for these men.  Safe, unfulfilling and reinforcing my low opinion of myself.    I so created this situation.  Things sometimes just happen like falling for someone.  But I chose/or I could  not move on,  heal, work though whatever it was. I did not learn how to do it differently.... Lots of therapy and all my therapist at the time did was minimize how I felt and not understand why I didn't just move on.  I really had no idea how.  That was one of the reasons I was in therapy!!!!!  HELLO.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is funny insight does not bring happiness,  it makes me more sad.  I know what I did wrong, I know how I contributed to how I got to be almost forty three and single with one real relationship with a man in her history.  I will  continue in this path of insight b/c I want to be in a fulfilling mutually satisfying loving relationship.  I don't think a relationship can and will make me happy.  I am a depressed person naturally, but I  come alive when I care deeply for someone.  I like being with people and knowing I am cared for is the best confidence builder there is.   I fear I will be alone for the rest of my life. If  I give into that fearI will build walls around my heart to become a &lt;em&gt;safe&lt;/em&gt; isolated place.  I will be miserable and a coward increasing my insecurity.  One of the only things that has helped me is taking risks and creating challenges.   Confronting my fear is tiring and I get sick of it, however, It is great to know I didn't cave.  Grieving, &lt;a href="mailto:sh@t"&gt;sh@t&lt;/a&gt; is the worst b/c it  feels like I have completely given in to all my fears and given up.  All my reasonable thinking skills just leave and that needy, abandonment issue girl takes over.  This is why I am taking this grieving thing so seriously.  I don't want that abandonment girl to rule any more of my future tries at love.  She has created enough humiliation and it has to be stopped.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4652527714810038783-123329745130192294?l=owenthecat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://owenthecat.blogspot.com/feeds/123329745130192294/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4652527714810038783&amp;postID=123329745130192294' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4652527714810038783/posts/default/123329745130192294'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4652527714810038783/posts/default/123329745130192294'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://owenthecat.blogspot.com/2008/04/reasons-i-put-up-with-all-this-grieving.html' title='The reasons I put up with all this Grieving sh@t'/><author><name>Jennie Holmes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08879093916636152653</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='20' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_O_bMWPc51jc/R7OorXNI9oI/AAAAAAAAAAU/1-oaaRZvV-c/S220/497349509_f929349655_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4652527714810038783.post-690568954383972633</id><published>2008-04-26T23:25:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-04-26T23:48:15.017-05:00</updated><title type='text'>gardening and growing</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Ok&lt;/span&gt; so gardening is super therapeutic I must admit. It is sort of addicting too. Weeding feels really good. Tilling the soil for the upcoming vegetable garden. Its exciting actually. It made me glad that sometimes we just have to keep moving. I went to a party tonight with some friends and had fun. This a a great start.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The curiosity that killed that cat got me tonight and I checked his blog for the first time in over two months. I can berate myself or just rejoice that I got a chance to see a picture of his daughter in &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Rockport&lt;/span&gt;. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;YAY&lt;/span&gt;!!!!!! I am glad I looked. I am so happy for him. I thought about emailing him or something but this is the only place I put anything about him. It is my only safe place. My friends are all set with Jason talk. My family well they were never in the loop. Owen well he knows it all and still loves us both as it should be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is funny that things seem so simple when they are not happening to you. I would have never thought I would not be able to understand and act on the simple request of &lt;strong&gt;no contact&lt;/strong&gt;. Its another thing that will remind me that sometimes other factors take over. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Like&lt;/span&gt; the "I am not worth &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;anyone's&lt;/span&gt; time or energy" factor. That has been one of my most cherished ones. I still remember the time I had sex when I didn't like what was happening and I was crying on the inside and yet I never said stop, or don't or I do not like that. I would have never believed I would have ever done that either.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hope I have learned these lessons. I am tired of being humiliated and yet it still seems so normal. I look forward to the day when its so out of the question that it smells wretched and to resist it will be &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;simpler&lt;/span&gt;. One day at a time. one weed at a time. Focus on what I can change, Focus on what I can do today, let go of what mistakes I made yesterday and enjoy each day. Nothing is &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;guaranteed&lt;/span&gt;. No one can complete us. We must complete ourselves one step at a time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am glad that I still have my &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;fantabulous&lt;/span&gt; cat, spring is here, I am painless, and grateful. Good things are happening we all deserve good things and good people to support us. Life is too hard otherwise.  Amen.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4652527714810038783-690568954383972633?l=owenthecat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://owenthecat.blogspot.com/feeds/690568954383972633/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4652527714810038783&amp;postID=690568954383972633' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4652527714810038783/posts/default/690568954383972633'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4652527714810038783/posts/default/690568954383972633'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://owenthecat.blogspot.com/2008/04/gardening-and-growing.html' title='gardening and growing'/><author><name>Jennie Holmes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08879093916636152653</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='20' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_O_bMWPc51jc/R7OorXNI9oI/AAAAAAAAAAU/1-oaaRZvV-c/S220/497349509_f929349655_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4652527714810038783.post-3710468870133176166</id><published>2008-04-26T14:00:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-04-26T14:09:22.776-05:00</updated><title type='text'>“If you’re looking for sympathy, you’ll find it in the dictionary between shit and syphillis.”</title><content type='html'>“If you’re looking for sympathy, you’ll find it in the dictionary between shit and syphillis.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is what I needed today.  It is so easy for me to sit around like today, a beautiful day and do absolutely nothing.  Well the thing is  if nothing changes then nothing changes.  I can't expect the quality of my life to improve if I do nothing to improve it.  I love sitting and petting Owen.  There is more to life than just this.  Fear has to stop influencing me.  It doesn't help me.  It does nothing for me except keeping me where I do not what to be.  I have no one to blame, I have no one with whom I can depend.  I have me and my resources.  I have God who has given me things that I can chose to use or I can chose to let them rot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The inertia I experience is immense.  Ironic really.  If I had been this sort of person previously I would have not had half the amount of disagreements as I ended up having with my ex.  Lets explore the paranoia for a moment, "ah look there is that woman, LOok she is alone.  Wow she must be such a loser.   Oh and look at her limp, that poor dear.  She must have such a hard life. "  Are any of those thoughts the least bit helpful?  Oh yeah they help me keep doing nothing so nothing changes.  yeah, that is the ticket.&lt;br /&gt;“If you’re looking for sympathy, you’ll find it in the dictionary between shit and syphillis.”&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4652527714810038783-3710468870133176166?l=owenthecat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://owenthecat.blogspot.com/feeds/3710468870133176166/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4652527714810038783&amp;postID=3710468870133176166' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4652527714810038783/posts/default/3710468870133176166'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4652527714810038783/posts/default/3710468870133176166'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://owenthecat.blogspot.com/2008/04/if-youre-looking-for-sympathy-youll.html' title='“If you’re looking for sympathy, you’ll find it in the dictionary between shit and syphillis.”'/><author><name>Jennie Holmes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08879093916636152653</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='20' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_O_bMWPc51jc/R7OorXNI9oI/AAAAAAAAAAU/1-oaaRZvV-c/S220/497349509_f929349655_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4652527714810038783.post-1395937058034965148</id><published>2008-04-25T19:57:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-04-25T20:01:13.005-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Penquins</title><content type='html'>"I like the way you walk, you want to know why?" &lt;br /&gt;"Why?"&lt;br /&gt;"Because my favorite animal is a penguin."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This was  one of the sweetest things anyone has ever said to me.  &lt;br /&gt;She is an awesome kid.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4652527714810038783-1395937058034965148?l=owenthecat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://owenthecat.blogspot.com/feeds/1395937058034965148/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4652527714810038783&amp;postID=1395937058034965148' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4652527714810038783/posts/default/1395937058034965148'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4652527714810038783/posts/default/1395937058034965148'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://owenthecat.blogspot.com/2008/04/penquins.html' title='Penquins'/><author><name>Jennie Holmes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08879093916636152653</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='20' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_O_bMWPc51jc/R7OorXNI9oI/AAAAAAAAAAU/1-oaaRZvV-c/S220/497349509_f929349655_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4652527714810038783.post-7831259964586331879</id><published>2008-04-23T21:20:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-04-23T21:24:16.536-05:00</updated><title type='text'>On my way to a website?</title><content type='html'>Another quiet day.  It is always a challenge to go back to work after a several day break.  So while reading some of my favorite women blogs  I learned about this website?  not even sure how to describe it but I put in my interests and it takes me to websites that I might like....how much fun is that!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is one of the gems I found tonight:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Seven Blunders of the World"&lt;br /&gt;1. Wealth without work&lt;br /&gt;2. Pleasure without conscience&lt;br /&gt;3. Knowledge without character&lt;br /&gt;4. Commerce without morality&lt;br /&gt;5. Science without humanity&lt;br /&gt;6. Worship without sacrifice&lt;br /&gt;7. Politics without principle&lt;br /&gt;—Mahatma Gandhi&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4652527714810038783-7831259964586331879?l=owenthecat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://owenthecat.blogspot.com/feeds/7831259964586331879/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4652527714810038783&amp;postID=7831259964586331879' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4652527714810038783/posts/default/7831259964586331879'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4652527714810038783/posts/default/7831259964586331879'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://owenthecat.blogspot.com/2008/04/on-my-way-to-website.html' title='On my way to a website?'/><author><name>Jennie Holmes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08879093916636152653</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='20' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_O_bMWPc51jc/R7OorXNI9oI/AAAAAAAAAAU/1-oaaRZvV-c/S220/497349509_f929349655_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4652527714810038783.post-7299725076323168911</id><published>2008-04-22T21:25:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-04-22T21:36:15.899-05:00</updated><title type='text'>My hydrangea needs tlc</title><content type='html'>Great day gardening trying to resurrect a hydrangea bush.  Like it or not I have to garden now if I want a decent looking yard.  besides tearing up both of my fore arms it felt good to be outside and using my hands.  Owen basked in the sun as I weeded and cut back the bush.  I hope it blooms Hydrangeas are just the best.  Owen is calling.  Its time for bed.  He wants to be next to me and I am typing... I know this is totally unacceptable.  I love the constant care and concern although I do get tired sometimes of all the yelling!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Its been over two months of no contact and I am proud of myself.  No blog reading nothing.  I want to know whats going on with him or how he is, but that is about it.  I hope we can and will be in touch at some point but I know I don't want to take any steps backwards.  I have to focus on me and what I am doing to create these problems. It has little to do with him.  Besides my physical difficulties I held on for no good reasons. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want to deserve a man who wants to love me support me in my faith.  I want to be the type of person that is attractive to that sort of man.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4652527714810038783-7299725076323168911?l=owenthecat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://owenthecat.blogspot.com/feeds/7299725076323168911/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4652527714810038783&amp;postID=7299725076323168911' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4652527714810038783/posts/default/7299725076323168911'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4652527714810038783/posts/default/7299725076323168911'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://owenthecat.blogspot.com/2008/04/my-hydrangea-needs-tlc.html' title='My hydrangea needs tlc'/><author><name>Jennie Holmes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08879093916636152653</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='20' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_O_bMWPc51jc/R7OorXNI9oI/AAAAAAAAAAU/1-oaaRZvV-c/S220/497349509_f929349655_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4652527714810038783.post-1498263104166450868</id><published>2008-04-21T20:47:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-04-21T20:58:39.709-05:00</updated><title type='text'>26.2</title><content type='html'>Watching thousands of people running for the goal of finishing a 26.2 mile race is painful.  There is joy, there is screaming, clapping  smiling but in the end pain pure and simple.  The joy is in taking ones body to the brink of disaster and survive.   Or so I suppose.  Margaret has always been able to accomplish things I could only dream.  I don't want to run those kinds of miles but knowing I can't still stings.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I met her, she was delirious.  She had a terrible run.  She was ill.  I took her to the medical tent for attention.  The first time in my life I could walk faster than Margaret.   No one is allowed in the tent except the runners.  So I just sat outside crying.  Crying for her because it is awful to see someone you love in pain. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She came out with her friend and we went back to Brookline.  They went to bed.  I went to Anna's for a Burrito extraordinaire and all is well with the world once again.  I love you, Margaret.  I even love that you are my sister.  Congratulations.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4652527714810038783-1498263104166450868?l=owenthecat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://owenthecat.blogspot.com/feeds/1498263104166450868/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4652527714810038783&amp;postID=1498263104166450868' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4652527714810038783/posts/default/1498263104166450868'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4652527714810038783/posts/default/1498263104166450868'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://owenthecat.blogspot.com/2008/04/262.html' title='26.2'/><author><name>Jennie Holmes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08879093916636152653</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='20' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_O_bMWPc51jc/R7OorXNI9oI/AAAAAAAAAAU/1-oaaRZvV-c/S220/497349509_f929349655_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4652527714810038783.post-7670881543407156781</id><published>2008-04-20T11:14:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-04-20T11:31:06.404-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Marg and me.</title><content type='html'>Its been a beautiful week outside.  It finally feels spring like.  I fear even typing those words.  I am sure that means it will be cold soon enough.  I took my first walk on the beach back and forth got my heart rate up and boy, I am out of shape.  My sister ran about 3.6 miles.  Ok so I clocked it.  We cleaned out my storage space and I can actually access my stuff that I haven't been able to in the last few years.  She even changed a light bulb for me.  All the things I don't have the muscles or the height for.   She wants for me to get rid of the green chair to increase the space in the room.  I am fine with getting rid of it I want to to be able to give it to someone.  Its a great chair.  She is right though, I don't have room for it.  It does make me feel much better to have more things in order.  Its the simple things after all. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nice to have Margaret around just to hang out and catch up.  Usually its the whole family and its too busy to just sit and talk.  It is good to be back in the land of the living.  She really has no idea what it is like to be depressed and doesn't agree with me taking medicine but what is important to me is that I feel better and now I can do things because I am not so tired all the time.  She hasn't learned that she isn't my Mom she is my sister.    yay for Jennie.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Owen enjoyed having another person around.  Margaret isn't used to all the verbage Owen has to offer but she understands how affection is such a large part of his life.    I am hoping for some cooler weather for the 26.2 trek on Monday.  That is a lot o miles.  I can't even imagine.  I will be there with bells on.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4652527714810038783-7670881543407156781?l=owenthecat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://owenthecat.blogspot.com/feeds/7670881543407156781/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4652527714810038783&amp;postID=7670881543407156781' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4652527714810038783/posts/default/7670881543407156781'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4652527714810038783/posts/default/7670881543407156781'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://owenthecat.blogspot.com/2008/04/marg-and-me.html' title='Marg and me.'/><author><name>Jennie Holmes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08879093916636152653</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='20' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_O_bMWPc51jc/R7OorXNI9oI/AAAAAAAAAAU/1-oaaRZvV-c/S220/497349509_f929349655_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4652527714810038783.post-3807873414389572647</id><published>2008-04-17T21:43:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-04-17T21:46:48.230-05:00</updated><title type='text'>YOU are a BAD mommy</title><content type='html'>I haven't heard the I can't believe you just did that!!!!!! Meow in a while but oh boy, did I get a serious chewing out when he decided to not get out of the way of the mop.  He has taken to sleeping on my pillow,  I means he sleeps on the pillow I sleep beside it.  I don't mind.  In the morning he jockeys his position on the bed so as to catch the most sun light on the majority of his body.  Oh to be a cat!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4652527714810038783-3807873414389572647?l=owenthecat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://owenthecat.blogspot.com/feeds/3807873414389572647/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4652527714810038783&amp;postID=3807873414389572647' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4652527714810038783/posts/default/3807873414389572647'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4652527714810038783/posts/default/3807873414389572647'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://owenthecat.blogspot.com/2008/04/you-are-bad-mommy.html' title='YOU are a BAD mommy'/><author><name>Jennie Holmes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08879093916636152653</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='20' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_O_bMWPc51jc/R7OorXNI9oI/AAAAAAAAAAU/1-oaaRZvV-c/S220/497349509_f929349655_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4652527714810038783.post-8687793218232179775</id><published>2008-04-13T12:42:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-04-13T13:00:52.285-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Ouch, thats smarts</title><content type='html'>Sunday morning, listening to a sermon, creating more pandora channels., stretching.  I was doing well.  Two hours in the "Abductor torture pose so I can get on a horse sooner than later.  I did some weights today I sat on the ball last night, I need to work harder, but I am working on it.   I was thinking about blogging how damn it.  I am going to beat this spastic tendancy that my muscles have.  I am stronger than the spacticity, Cerebral Palsy does not define me or my body, and then just as I was getting ready to remove myself from the torturous position and BANG, ZAP, POW, (ok so I stole from Batman)  The spasm hit like no other.  Spasm one, Jennie zero.    This is what makes me want to never stretch ever again.  I have to remember the mantra I will not break, I will not break,  I might now break but feeling like a taut rubber band most of the time just isn't fun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know, I know it could be worse.  I walk, I ride a bike,  I work, I can go anywhere, accessible or not.  It is one of my greatest thorns in my side that hurts more than I would like to admit.  I am thankful for many things,  this physical difficulty though,  It is hard to lay this one down at your feet.  It is right up there with singleness, I always assumed I could handle it if only I had a man to love me.  I have neither and am more aware of that being my doing and not yours.  I think there is truth to Love your neighbor as your self.  The part that has come the hardest is the Love yourself part.  I sit and listen to all the critical nonsense that goes through my brain  minute by minute and then  I know from whence this poor self respect comes.  Most of that crap inside is hurt, imbedded deep with in the skin.  I have been cleaning it out inch by inch.  This too takes conscience effort.  I am not defective.  I have tight muscles that fight me.  I am attractive to some.  I am intelligent  and caring.  I love God  and I deserve a man who loves and appreciates me.  In the mean time, I have to clean.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4652527714810038783-8687793218232179775?l=owenthecat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://owenthecat.blogspot.com/feeds/8687793218232179775/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4652527714810038783&amp;postID=8687793218232179775' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4652527714810038783/posts/default/8687793218232179775'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4652527714810038783/posts/default/8687793218232179775'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://owenthecat.blogspot.com/2008/04/ouch-thats-smarts.html' title='Ouch, thats smarts'/><author><name>Jennie Holmes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08879093916636152653</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='20' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_O_bMWPc51jc/R7OorXNI9oI/AAAAAAAAAAU/1-oaaRZvV-c/S220/497349509_f929349655_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4652527714810038783.post-9209343851953316767</id><published>2008-04-11T21:52:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-04-11T22:02:40.463-05:00</updated><title type='text'>simple pleasures</title><content type='html'>I finally made it through the fifth level.  Not sure how, maybe it was the Def Comedy Jam I was listening to while I tried to get past 5-4.  5-5 and 5-6 were simple. Well a good accomplishment.  Another wonderful cuddling session with my main man, cat really.  It is one of the best feelings to just pet and hear the purr, the meow the happiness radiating for such a simple act of affection. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today was one of those days that was full each and every minute. I think I wasn't at my desk more than a minute without the phone ringing, the walkie calling for me or paperwork waiting to be accomplished.  These days go quickly, but they make my mind race with all the things I did and all the things that need to be done.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My shinning moment today was reconnecting with a quiet young girl who is terrified of having someone know her.  Its been a long trek with this one and today, there was a connection....this is what makes my work rewarding, laying the ground work for relationship, healing, insight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not sure what this weekend will hold but I have lots to accomplish either with my house, my next steps, my summer possibilities, my vacation plans, and for once I can say I will not be trying to beat Level 5-4 of Luxor.....its the simple things in life.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4652527714810038783-9209343851953316767?l=owenthecat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://owenthecat.blogspot.com/feeds/9209343851953316767/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4652527714810038783&amp;postID=9209343851953316767' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4652527714810038783/posts/default/9209343851953316767'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4652527714810038783/posts/default/9209343851953316767'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://owenthecat.blogspot.com/2008/04/simple-pleasures.html' title='simple pleasures'/><author><name>Jennie Holmes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08879093916636152653</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='20' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_O_bMWPc51jc/R7OorXNI9oI/AAAAAAAAAAU/1-oaaRZvV-c/S220/497349509_f929349655_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4652527714810038783.post-4887940610818928314</id><published>2008-04-10T22:01:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-04-10T22:03:44.521-05:00</updated><title type='text'>technological wonder</title><content type='html'>I actually googled how to turn off my "maintenance necessary" light and successfully got it to turn off....Miraculous!!!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4652527714810038783-4887940610818928314?l=owenthecat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://owenthecat.blogspot.com/feeds/4887940610818928314/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4652527714810038783&amp;postID=4887940610818928314' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4652527714810038783/posts/default/4887940610818928314'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4652527714810038783/posts/default/4887940610818928314'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://owenthecat.blogspot.com/2008/04/technological-wonder.html' title='technological wonder'/><author><name>Jennie Holmes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08879093916636152653</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='20' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_O_bMWPc51jc/R7OorXNI9oI/AAAAAAAAAAU/1-oaaRZvV-c/S220/497349509_f929349655_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4652527714810038783.post-8667479601993777214</id><published>2008-04-10T20:37:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-04-10T20:49:11.621-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Meow, and Manuel</title><content type='html'>Man U El.  He is one of my former students.  He is Indiana trying to find himself through studying scientology.  I don't really understand it but all I care about is that it helps him.  He sounded so different on the phone tonight.  He had excitement and happiness in his voice for the first time that he arrived in the states from Argentina.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The change is due to his acceptance and plan to go to school and study the arts, photography, design etc.  I am so excited for him.  I want him to feel connected to something and for him to discover who he is, what sort of legacy he will leave, and to think that his life has been worth living. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I hear from my former students, its like a reminder from the Lord, that my life has not been for nothing, and that I have done well by those kids, I loved and believed in them.  I just thought that if I continued to do this that someday, someone would come along that would love and believe in me.  I am not sure why I haven't allowed this/or why it hasn't happened, but in the mean time I am going to Love God, Love myself, in spite of all of my short comings,  and pray for those with whom I care.  For I know the plans I have for you declares the Lord, are plans so that you might have a future and a hope.......let it be so.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4652527714810038783-8667479601993777214?l=owenthecat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://owenthecat.blogspot.com/feeds/8667479601993777214/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4652527714810038783&amp;postID=8667479601993777214' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4652527714810038783/posts/default/8667479601993777214'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4652527714810038783/posts/default/8667479601993777214'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://owenthecat.blogspot.com/2008/04/meow-and-manuel.html' title='Meow, and Manuel'/><author><name>Jennie Holmes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08879093916636152653</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='20' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_O_bMWPc51jc/R7OorXNI9oI/AAAAAAAAAAU/1-oaaRZvV-c/S220/497349509_f929349655_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4652527714810038783.post-1343698739769441741</id><published>2008-04-09T20:04:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-04-09T20:12:13.962-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Wed Nes DAY</title><content type='html'>You're not a victim. You're a volunteer.   I love this from Susan and her blog that has helped me beyond measure.  It is so easy to have a pity party about this that or the other thing but the fact is we have one life to live and it doesn't matter what has happened to us.  What matters is that we work it out and not allow oneself to play the victim.  Awful things happen to great people.  Compassion and understanding does not equal pity.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I went swimming tonight and was reminded that my body is only going to improve if I make a commitment to it and don't give up.  I noticed some wrinkles today and some differences in my body I had not noticed.  Aging is happening.  I just have to accept it and be the best  person and have the best body humanly possible.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Work continues to be fruitful.  I have been enjoying the children since I have begun to experience joy yet again.  I am so thankful for those beautiful children.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4652527714810038783-1343698739769441741?l=owenthecat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://owenthecat.blogspot.com/feeds/1343698739769441741/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4652527714810038783&amp;postID=1343698739769441741' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4652527714810038783/posts/default/1343698739769441741'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4652527714810038783/posts/default/1343698739769441741'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://owenthecat.blogspot.com/2008/04/wed-nes-day.html' title='Wed Nes DAY'/><author><name>Jennie Holmes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08879093916636152653</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='20' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_O_bMWPc51jc/R7OorXNI9oI/AAAAAAAAAAU/1-oaaRZvV-c/S220/497349509_f929349655_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4652527714810038783.post-4226610224247564445</id><published>2008-04-08T20:11:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-07-13T11:44:55.060-05:00</updated><title type='text'>All the things I wish I could....</title><content type='html'>Reow, reow, reow, that is the sounds I heard tonight as I walked in the door. I so look forward to his high verbal welcome. He eats, settles in next to me after fighting with me on and off the keyboard. Its familiar, but comforting. I am completely addicted to Luxor. I can't beat this level for the life of me. I am thankful for something to do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well at least, we, Owen and I, have this blog to write all of our thoughts and feelings. I am surprised how helpful writing has become when I can't think of anything else to do. One of these days I can look back and be thankful that all of these ramblings don't hurt any more. Its also a way for me to chronicle Owen's life so he becomes immortal. He has helped me more over the years than all those therapy sessions. AFFECTION, MEOWING, and LOVE = OWEN, BABY.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4652527714810038783-4226610224247564445?l=owenthecat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://owenthecat.blogspot.com/feeds/4226610224247564445/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4652527714810038783&amp;postID=4226610224247564445' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4652527714810038783/posts/default/4226610224247564445'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4652527714810038783/posts/default/4226610224247564445'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://owenthecat.blogspot.com/2008/04/all-things-i-wish-i-could.html' title='All the things I wish I could....'/><author><name>Jennie Holmes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08879093916636152653</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='20' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_O_bMWPc51jc/R7OorXNI9oI/AAAAAAAAAAU/1-oaaRZvV-c/S220/497349509_f929349655_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4652527714810038783.post-3626698058987873844</id><published>2008-04-07T20:52:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2008-04-07T20:55:58.256-05:00</updated><title type='text'>monday monday</title><content type='html'>Good start to the week today.  I got to the gym which means it will be that much easier to get there tomorrow.  My energy continues to come back to me.  Owen is trying &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;desperately&lt;/span&gt; to type, unsuccessfully, I might add.  I have to plan stuff for the coming weekend before I get too tired and decide to just chill.  My sister will be here in a matter of days. Prepare, prepare, prepare.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4652527714810038783-3626698058987873844?l=owenthecat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://owenthecat.blogspot.com/feeds/3626698058987873844/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4652527714810038783&amp;postID=3626698058987873844' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4652527714810038783/posts/default/3626698058987873844'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4652527714810038783/posts/default/3626698058987873844'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://owenthecat.blogspot.com/2008/04/monday-monday.html' title='monday monday'/><author><name>Jennie Holmes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08879093916636152653</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='20' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_O_bMWPc51jc/R7OorXNI9oI/AAAAAAAAAAU/1-oaaRZvV-c/S220/497349509_f929349655_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4652527714810038783.post-3089966424940702463</id><published>2008-04-06T14:38:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-04-06T14:41:05.825-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Coupons coupons and coupons</title><content type='html'>I just went to CVS and saved $17.00 from things on sale and coupons!!!!!  I LOVE LOVE LOVE to save money on things I need anyway.  There is no reason to pay full price for anything at any time!!!!!  Yahoo!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4652527714810038783-3089966424940702463?l=owenthecat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://owenthecat.blogspot.com/feeds/3089966424940702463/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4652527714810038783&amp;postID=3089966424940702463' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4652527714810038783/posts/default/3089966424940702463'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4652527714810038783/posts/default/3089966424940702463'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://owenthecat.blogspot.com/2008/04/coupons-coupons-and-coupons.html' title='Coupons coupons and coupons'/><author><name>Jennie Holmes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08879093916636152653</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='20' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_O_bMWPc51jc/R7OorXNI9oI/AAAAAAAAAAU/1-oaaRZvV-c/S220/497349509_f929349655_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4652527714810038783.post-17456598938719050</id><published>2008-04-06T08:42:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2008-04-06T09:29:30.029-05:00</updated><title type='text'>a prayer for hope, health and healing</title><content type='html'>I practiced a meditation last night, asking for hope, health and healing. I meditated on my problem with feeling unworthy of love. I meditated on being worthy. I cried and cried. I asked for healing in all the places that I hold onto trauma memories. I asked for hope, health and healing from the Lord above, the God of love, the God that knew me in my mothers womb, the God that has shown himself to me, time and time again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Am I being punished for loving an atheist? No, not at all. Am I punishing myself for not being &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;abl&lt;/span&gt;e to have an &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;atheist&lt;/span&gt; fall in love with me? That is more like it. There must me something &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;inherently&lt;/span&gt; wrong with me if I can't be more attractive to someone who has become convinced that God is a terrible thing to have in ones life. Religion is a detriment to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;someones&lt;/span&gt; point of view. Well that is certainly a lot of power for someone like me to have. I am just not that important. I have no more an &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;incredible&lt;/span&gt; person to influence an atheist, that has credible evidence as to why not to believe than I do to convince a child that she should not love her biological mother who sexually abused her over and over again. All I can do is live my life as best I know how and pray, pray for guidance and care to not hurt but be an instrument of healing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know this, I know this in my head, but my heart still aches. My heart misses this man who did not love me as I loved him. This man who told me over and over that he did not love me. This man who reminded me over and over that his care could not heal me. This man could not comfort my deepest needs. This man who often said, you must find these things within yourself. I bristled against this for God was supposed to do this for me. But God has been trying to instill these things within me over and over. I resisted these installations in favor of doing what I thought would gain me favor with a man with whom I was enamored.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The problem over and over became that my vessel was not steady, not firm in knowledge of my worth. I am made in Gods image and fearfully and wonderfully made. I, have fought against this body of mine, so much so that I did not even know what Cerebral palsy actually was. If I ignored it maybe it would go away. If I ignored Jason, maybe his concerns would disappear. He wants space but not really. He doesn't really mean, space he just misses me and is afraid of missing me. That is just one &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;possibility&lt;/span&gt; of a ridiculous rationalization of poor behavior. I am not without blame. He is not without fault either. His goal was always honesty, but there was also desiring to have what he desired. A friend. I never wanted a friend. I did not have enough self respect to ask for no contact. I could not tolerate the pain. He could not comfort the pain. He was causing it. I chose to ignore. I chose to assume it was something faulty within myself. If only I was like this or that he would have loved me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't want to have so much power any more. Its too much to carry around. I have never cared or had someone known me as well. That is the source of the grief. I attached fully. If I could do it with Jason, I can do it with someone else who loves me who also loves the God that has created and loved me. I have this in my head but not in my heart. I want to hold on to the pain, I want to blame myself for some &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;inherent&lt;/span&gt; problem I must have to have caused this chasm. This is the magical thinking of a young girl that thinks that she can stop her father from drinking or she can keep herself from harm when someone decides to sexually molest her. These beliefs just hurt me and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;reiterate&lt;/span&gt; my failings. I don't have the power from stopping someone from drinking, molesting, or believing in the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;existence&lt;/span&gt; of a God with whom I love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One thing that is true though, is that this drinker, molester, or atheist are all men that I have loved with my whole heart. People cause pain because love is imperfect, people are &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;fallible&lt;/span&gt;. I can and will love others that will seek to heal, give me hope and help me be healthy. I will still love those with whom don't love me, but I don't have to assume its because there is something damaged about me. I will love and have compassion because I have been there in the pit of despair and I have chosen to not live there. I chose to have hope, health and healing. Amen.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4652527714810038783-17456598938719050?l=owenthecat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://owenthecat.blogspot.com/feeds/17456598938719050/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4652527714810038783&amp;postID=17456598938719050' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4652527714810038783/posts/default/17456598938719050'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4652527714810038783/posts/default/17456598938719050'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://owenthecat.blogspot.com/2008/04/i-practiced-meditation-last-night.html' title='a prayer for hope, health and healing'/><author><name>Jennie Holmes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08879093916636152653</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='20' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_O_bMWPc51jc/R7OorXNI9oI/AAAAAAAAAAU/1-oaaRZvV-c/S220/497349509_f929349655_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4652527714810038783.post-1527039937516334569</id><published>2008-04-05T20:07:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-04-05T20:15:32.565-05:00</updated><title type='text'>A new recipe</title><content type='html'>Artichokes and Pasta&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I actually followed a recipe today and made a killer pasta dish.  White wine &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;sauteed&lt;/span&gt; with garlic, diced tomatoes, marinated artichokes and bow tie pasta.  I am so proud and it reminded me that I can when looking at a recipe, cook.  The more I find healthy, simple recipes the more I will cook.  I was &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;pleasantly&lt;/span&gt; surprised with myself.  The more I plan to do something, the more I will follow through.  One step in front of the other is all I need to remember.  I am given enough grace for today, I can ask for more tomorrow.  Hope will produce greater success and confidence.  I will become confident in my personal life just like in my professional life.  I will have something to offer and be desired.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4652527714810038783-1527039937516334569?l=owenthecat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://owenthecat.blogspot.com/feeds/1527039937516334569/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4652527714810038783&amp;postID=1527039937516334569' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4652527714810038783/posts/default/1527039937516334569'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4652527714810038783/posts/default/1527039937516334569'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://owenthecat.blogspot.com/2008/04/new-recipe.html' title='A new recipe'/><author><name>Jennie Holmes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08879093916636152653</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='20' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_O_bMWPc51jc/R7OorXNI9oI/AAAAAAAAAAU/1-oaaRZvV-c/S220/497349509_f929349655_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4652527714810038783.post-6485688301083543750</id><published>2008-04-05T09:44:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-04-05T09:54:00.400-05:00</updated><title type='text'>da baby owen</title><content type='html'>I am just sitting here on the computer, checking my email and Owen tries and tries to lick my fingers as I type.  yuck.  I love this cat beyond measure, but the licking of the fingers....not so much.  So he settles crunched up next to the back of the couch and the keyboard.  He sleeps.  When he is all curled up I love to watch and pet him.  Then he rings a sort of brill but its &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;mmmmrrro&lt;/span&gt; and then he looks at me and returns to the slumber.  &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;ahhh&lt;/span&gt;.  such a life. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;hes's&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;da&lt;/span&gt; baby.  these are the times i wish &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Jason&lt;/span&gt; and his camera were around or just the mutual admiration we have for this animal is missed.  I wonder if I will ever be able to look at him again after my humiliating behavior.  I don't see it at this point.  It is all so sad really but that is what a break up is.  its a BREAK.  I can't fix it I just have to wait and let it heal.  I am proud that it has been over a month since I have chosen to be &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;humiliated&lt;/span&gt;.  All I have to do if I think about contacting him is look at his last email and that puts be back into reality.  I wish him well.  I pray for him often.  I hope I can gain enough strength to make it to church tomorrow.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4652527714810038783-6485688301083543750?l=owenthecat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://owenthecat.blogspot.com/feeds/6485688301083543750/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4652527714810038783&amp;postID=6485688301083543750' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4652527714810038783/posts/default/6485688301083543750'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4652527714810038783/posts/default/6485688301083543750'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://owenthecat.blogspot.com/2008/04/da-baby-owen.html' title='da baby owen'/><author><name>Jennie Holmes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08879093916636152653</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='20' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_O_bMWPc51jc/R7OorXNI9oI/AAAAAAAAAAU/1-oaaRZvV-c/S220/497349509_f929349655_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4652527714810038783.post-7931813678951392267</id><published>2008-04-04T21:57:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-04-04T22:03:35.074-05:00</updated><title type='text'>In honor of...</title><content type='html'>This is the time of year I used to teach the civil rights movement.  Ruby Bridges, Rosa Parks, Edward Till, these are my heroes ordinary people placed in extraordinary circumstances and their lives changed the face of a nation....As we consider 5 years in a worthless war consider the words of MLK 40 years prior.....some things have changed  some has endured.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;"There is at the outset a very obvious and almost facile connection between the war in Vietnam and the struggle I, and others, have been waging in America. A few years ago there was a shining moment in that struggle. It seemed as if there was a real promise of hope for the poor—both black and white—through the poverty program. There were experiments, hopes, new beginnings.&lt;br /&gt;Then came the buildup in Vietnam and I watched the program broken and eviscerated as if it were some idle political plaything of a society gone mad on war, and I knew that America would never invest the necessary funds or energies in rehabilitation of its poor so long as adventures like Vietnam continued to draw men and skills and money like some demonic destructive suction tube. So I was increasingly compelled to see the war as an enemy of the poor and to attack it as such."&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Martin Luther King Jr., April 4, 1967, Riverside Church&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4652527714810038783-7931813678951392267?l=owenthecat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://owenthecat.blogspot.com/feeds/7931813678951392267/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4652527714810038783&amp;postID=7931813678951392267' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4652527714810038783/posts/default/7931813678951392267'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4652527714810038783/posts/default/7931813678951392267'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://owenthecat.blogspot.com/2008/04/in-honor-of.html' title='In honor of...'/><author><name>Jennie Holmes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08879093916636152653</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='20' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_O_bMWPc51jc/R7OorXNI9oI/AAAAAAAAAAU/1-oaaRZvV-c/S220/497349509_f929349655_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4652527714810038783.post-1519708228611075055</id><published>2008-04-04T21:05:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-04-04T21:15:35.503-05:00</updated><title type='text'>whew....its Friday.</title><content type='html'>Owen is sitting here by the computer.  He gets so territorial if I am not paying attention to him.  Some might be annoyed by his constant need for affection but not me.  It is comforting that someone or something cares for me and wants to be with me no matter what.  I can not imagine how much more I might have been made bitter without the love and affection of my pets over the years.  It makes me happy. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today at work my supervisor told me that she was asked to present at the state house on Tuesday at the EEC Board meeting.  EEC is the governing body of Early Education and Care.  This is the source of my grant.  They would not be asking my supervisor to sell the program if I was not doing well at my job.  This was a great surprise.  I haven't felt like much of anything lately.  I have worked without fail but my heart has been dragging.  I had no idea how I was doing or have been doing.  I do know, however, how fortunate I am to have such an excellent position.  The staff finally looks at me as a help vs. a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;hindrance&lt;/span&gt;.  In addition I will be giving some trainings to the staff in the next few weeks.  Presentations are not my forte but they are an honor to create.  All in all a great week. I am so thankful to have energy and hope once again.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4652527714810038783-1519708228611075055?l=owenthecat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://owenthecat.blogspot.com/feeds/1519708228611075055/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4652527714810038783&amp;postID=1519708228611075055' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4652527714810038783/posts/default/1519708228611075055'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4652527714810038783/posts/default/1519708228611075055'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://owenthecat.blogspot.com/2008/04/whewits-friday.html' title='whew....its Friday.'/><author><name>Jennie Holmes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08879093916636152653</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='20' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_O_bMWPc51jc/R7OorXNI9oI/AAAAAAAAAAU/1-oaaRZvV-c/S220/497349509_f929349655_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4652527714810038783.post-3634838457877567055</id><published>2008-04-03T20:35:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-04-03T20:46:52.444-05:00</updated><title type='text'>slow and steady wins the race</title><content type='html'>I can't believe I still have a clean place. I am hoping this begins new habits for me.  I like walking into my house now.  I am less embarrassed, stressed and am looking to do some home improvements.  I usually go on vacation this time of the year, but going to visit my folks isn't relaxing.  I need to relax somewhere and preferably somewhere warm.  I get sick of winter by the end of march even though I know better than to believe New England has a spring.  Its a myth that is passed on from generation to generation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think I will plant veggies this year, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;tomatoes&lt;/span&gt;, lettuce, beans, radishes, cucumbers etc.  I enjoy fresh &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;vegetables&lt;/span&gt; so much.  I also want to start planning means thinking about ingredients prior to going to the grocery store.  I used to enjoy cooking.  I like to cook for others so if I can keep my house clean, then I can have company over.  Gosh its been so long since that has even been a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;possibility&lt;/span&gt;.  One step at a time.  My neck is still hurting but practicing my stretches, swimming, and the Alexander technique is helping if I am still hurting by the end of the weekend I will go to a Chiropractor.  I am beginning to pray now for strength to make it to church on Sunday. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Owen is on the pillow.  He was bellowing at me outside tonight before I walked in the door.  He is a riot.  He actually has a bigger mouth than me.  That is impressive.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4652527714810038783-3634838457877567055?l=owenthecat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://owenthecat.blogspot.com/feeds/3634838457877567055/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4652527714810038783&amp;postID=3634838457877567055' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4652527714810038783/posts/default/3634838457877567055'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4652527714810038783/posts/default/3634838457877567055'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://owenthecat.blogspot.com/2008/04/slow-and-steady-wins-race.html' title='slow and steady wins the race'/><author><name>Jennie Holmes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08879093916636152653</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='20' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_O_bMWPc51jc/R7OorXNI9oI/AAAAAAAAAAU/1-oaaRZvV-c/S220/497349509_f929349655_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4652527714810038783.post-3120830751072703204</id><published>2008-04-01T21:47:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2008-04-01T22:02:15.296-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Day three and clean!!!</title><content type='html'>Today I folded laundry and went to the gym. I feel so much better. Depression is such a strange thing. I didn't put two and two together. Its amazing that when one has enough &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;serotonin!&lt;/span&gt; All this time I thought I was just upset and unable to get over Jason, no matter what I did. Now I realize that my depression had worsened to the point where I just couldn't even think straight. It was easy to assume it was Jason and the break up since I have such difficulty with men. Well it. makes me feel less like a psycho. I still miss him. I miss just having someone to hang with. He is funny and goofy and he loves Owen. Owen was meowing up a storm today, lots of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;mrow's&lt;/span&gt; today. Well its day three in a made bed. I am making progress. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Yay&lt;/span&gt; for me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4652527714810038783-3120830751072703204?l=owenthecat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://owenthecat.blogspot.com/feeds/3120830751072703204/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4652527714810038783&amp;postID=3120830751072703204' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4652527714810038783/posts/default/3120830751072703204'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4652527714810038783/posts/default/3120830751072703204'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://owenthecat.blogspot.com/2008/04/day-three-and-clean.html' title='Day three and clean!!!'/><author><name>Jennie Holmes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08879093916636152653</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='20' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_O_bMWPc51jc/R7OorXNI9oI/AAAAAAAAAAU/1-oaaRZvV-c/S220/497349509_f929349655_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4652527714810038783.post-3213453367518936024</id><published>2008-03-31T20:23:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-03-31T20:37:26.946-05:00</updated><title type='text'>clean day number two</title><content type='html'>I can't remember the last time I could say I came home to a made bed!  I did my dishes and put away all the food tonight.  The sink is clear this is the second day of clean.    I think the new medication cocktail is working.  I am not sleeping non stop, am able to get some things done and I don't want to rip everyone to shreds.  I actually want to call some of my friends to see them.  Maybe I will even join the group of coworkers who do &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;karaoke&lt;/span&gt; at &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Cameron's&lt;/span&gt;.  Its something to aspire to anyway.   Next stop the pool.  I am &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;aching&lt;/span&gt; everywhere.  My body is either just readjusting to to my new lift height or am just &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;incredibly&lt;/span&gt; sore.  I am so scared I have lost some range of motion, but there isn't anything I can do about it now.  This last bout of depression was tough.  The most &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;insidious&lt;/span&gt; thing about depression is that it could &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;masquerade&lt;/span&gt; as just being tired or overwhelmed.  It was hard to discern what it was given all of the things  it could possibly be.  Bottom line is I finally feel like a person again.  Owen &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;isn't&lt;/span&gt; quite sure what to do.  He has a clear path to me on my bed.  I just need to keep it going.  It feels good.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4652527714810038783-3213453367518936024?l=owenthecat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://owenthecat.blogspot.com/feeds/3213453367518936024/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4652527714810038783&amp;postID=3213453367518936024' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4652527714810038783/posts/default/3213453367518936024'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4652527714810038783/posts/default/3213453367518936024'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://owenthecat.blogspot.com/2008/03/clean-day-number-two.html' title='clean day number two'/><author><name>Jennie Holmes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08879093916636152653</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='20' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_O_bMWPc51jc/R7OorXNI9oI/AAAAAAAAAAU/1-oaaRZvV-c/S220/497349509_f929349655_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4652527714810038783.post-2648617278796303157</id><published>2008-03-29T21:59:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-03-29T22:12:59.960-05:00</updated><title type='text'>another quiet day.</title><content type='html'>Owen and I had a nice quiet one today.  I so enjoy all the different meows and looks and cuddles we have.  I have been doing so much grieving that in a way it makes me realize I will be &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;ok&lt;/span&gt; when its his time to go. Awful as it might be, I will survive.   There are so many days when I just don't want to go on.  What is the point?  I think to myself.  I have worked my whole life to help others and I can't seem to tolerate the idea of someone actually liking me.   I am so tired of it really.  So sick of being so scared.  What is the worst that could happen is that someone could not like me.  Yeah well it was too much to even bear that thought for such a long time.  I can bare it now, I think.  I just don't want to.  It is just so much emotional energy this being in love thing.  I had no idea any of this would be so elusive to me.  I feel like I have the social skills of a frog.  I seem to not be comfortable in any group of people for longer than a few years at a time.  I have a hard time keeping in touch with people because I get so f...&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;ing&lt;/span&gt; depressed.  I am less tired now but more aware of all of this wasted time and energy that I spend doing nothing.  I work or I do nothing.  I feel like a big old hypocrite, so willing to think of reasons how others can improve their lives but too tired to take any of my own advice.  I don't want to live as a passenger any more.  If I have a terrible life I have no one to blame but myself.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4652527714810038783-2648617278796303157?l=owenthecat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://owenthecat.blogspot.com/feeds/2648617278796303157/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4652527714810038783&amp;postID=2648617278796303157' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4652527714810038783/posts/default/2648617278796303157'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4652527714810038783/posts/default/2648617278796303157'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://owenthecat.blogspot.com/2008/03/another-quiet-day.html' title='another quiet day.'/><author><name>Jennie Holmes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08879093916636152653</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='20' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_O_bMWPc51jc/R7OorXNI9oI/AAAAAAAAAAU/1-oaaRZvV-c/S220/497349509_f929349655_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4652527714810038783.post-3551873591162070116</id><published>2008-03-26T19:58:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-03-26T20:03:45.223-05:00</updated><title type='text'>seasons change but</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:Verdana,Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif,Tahoma;" &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);font-size:130%;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Life  for so many of us, seems a life of constant change. Yet there is more stability than we sometimes see.   A commitment to living in faith moment by moment in the reality of the God who is there, and who does not change. So there is change but there is also continuity. The signs of seasonal change can become familiar and a comfort as we remember that after winter, in God’s grace, spring does come again. "&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;Dick Keyes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;let it be so.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4652527714810038783-3551873591162070116?l=owenthecat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://owenthecat.blogspot.com/feeds/3551873591162070116/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4652527714810038783&amp;postID=3551873591162070116' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4652527714810038783/posts/default/3551873591162070116'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4652527714810038783/posts/default/3551873591162070116'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://owenthecat.blogspot.com/2008/03/seasons-change-but.html' title='seasons change but'/><author><name>Jennie Holmes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08879093916636152653</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='20' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_O_bMWPc51jc/R7OorXNI9oI/AAAAAAAAAAU/1-oaaRZvV-c/S220/497349509_f929349655_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4652527714810038783.post-3812920315832577111</id><published>2008-03-23T17:50:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-07-13T11:53:52.559-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Easter on the farm</title><content type='html'>Easter on the farm. This time it was with Evan and Courtney. Courtney was the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;lastest&lt;/span&gt; but not girlfriend, sleeping with but not....yeah been there. Whenever Evan and I are together at the family home it feels like no one else is around. We find one another even when I try to hide he comes to find me. Not hard in such a small space. He always says I bring out the worst in him, he brings out the realization that despite a strong connection there are 20 years almost between us and it never feels like it. I have been so proud of myself walking around saying and not being ashamed of being 42. I am finally comfortable with that number and feel mature. I am not spending all my time with young people and not spending time with others my own age. Now I am not spending time with anyone but I am not wishing I was younger or another age. Except that is when I am with Evan and I notice his weakness is petite curly haired girls.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then Courtney mentions going to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;RHS&lt;/span&gt; and graduating last year, yeah she graduated with Nick is friends with Maddie and Sam. So much for wishing I was younger reality sets in again and Evan as only Evan can do shows me his conceit and poor form. Whenever he jokes about his irresponsible drinking and driving I want to scream, YOU PRICK, you are going to kill someones kid someday. I have been down that road with him, he knows how I feel about that. He says these things to provoke me on purpose. If we can't banter then there isn't many other choices. Despite all of that we truly enjoy one another, I am not sure what I do for him, perhaps I help him tolerate family meals that are often uncomfortable for him. He finds it very difficult to be nice to me for any length of time.....as he says &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;meanness&lt;/span&gt; is a sign of affection. Well I have been there done that. I am looking for other sorts of affection these days.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4652527714810038783-3812920315832577111?l=owenthecat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://owenthecat.blogspot.com/feeds/3812920315832577111/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4652527714810038783&amp;postID=3812920315832577111' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4652527714810038783/posts/default/3812920315832577111'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4652527714810038783/posts/default/3812920315832577111'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://owenthecat.blogspot.com/2008/03/easter-on-farm.html' title='Easter on the farm'/><author><name>Jennie Holmes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08879093916636152653</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='20' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_O_bMWPc51jc/R7OorXNI9oI/AAAAAAAAAAU/1-oaaRZvV-c/S220/497349509_f929349655_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4652527714810038783.post-5503691564940905783</id><published>2008-03-23T09:59:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-03-23T10:15:25.627-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Here comes the sun...</title><content type='html'>When I was little I loved the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Beatles&lt;/span&gt;.  I always thought I had been born at the wrong era.  I woke up with the sun in my eyes, Owen meowing and this song in my head.  I wanted to get to Easter service and I still have difficulty getting out of bed and thinking about the red house across the street.  I will get better.  I will let that part go and stop using it as an excuse as to why I do not worship at St. Mary's.&lt;br /&gt;I want this to be a day of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Resurrection&lt;/span&gt; It been a year.  Its time to make new memories I no longer have to think about this time last year we were doing this or that or God why can't he get up?  It me now that can't seem to face the days.  I am hoping the increased dose of medicine, the sun and continued focus on the here and now will help me.  Please God help me know you exist, that my life has meaning, that I am worthy of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;someones&lt;/span&gt; love, that I have the energy to exercise like I need to and that I learn how to be &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;OK&lt;/span&gt; with my life.  I pray I can stop judging, criticizing everything I do that I can accept the job I do not the job I want to do.  Help me believe that it will be alright....&lt;br /&gt;Here comes the sun,  here comes the sun And I say it's all right&lt;br /&gt;Little darling, it's been a long cold lonely winter Little darling, it feels like years since it's been here.&lt;br /&gt;Here comes the sun, here comes the sun. &lt;br /&gt;And I say it's all right.&lt;br /&gt;Little darling, the smiles returning to the faces. &lt;br /&gt;Little darling, it seems like years since it's been here&lt;br /&gt;Here comes the sun, here comes the sun&lt;br /&gt;And I say it's all right  Sun, sun, sun, here it comes&lt;br /&gt;Sun, sun, sun, here it comes&lt;br /&gt;Sun, sun, sun, here it comes&lt;br /&gt;Sun, sun, sun, here it comes&lt;br /&gt;Sun, sun, sun, here it comes&lt;br /&gt;Little darling, I feel that ice is slowly melting&lt;br /&gt;Little darling, it seems like years since it's been clear&lt;br /&gt;Here comes the sun, here comes the sun&lt;br /&gt;And I say it's all right&lt;br /&gt;Here comes the sun, here comes the sun&lt;br /&gt;It's all right, it's all right&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4652527714810038783-5503691564940905783?l=owenthecat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://owenthecat.blogspot.com/feeds/5503691564940905783/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4652527714810038783&amp;postID=5503691564940905783' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4652527714810038783/posts/default/5503691564940905783'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4652527714810038783/posts/default/5503691564940905783'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://owenthecat.blogspot.com/2008/03/here-comes-sun.html' title='Here comes the sun...'/><author><name>Jennie Holmes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08879093916636152653</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='20' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_O_bMWPc51jc/R7OorXNI9oI/AAAAAAAAAAU/1-oaaRZvV-c/S220/497349509_f929349655_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4652527714810038783.post-3827869319282063231</id><published>2008-03-18T19:44:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-03-18T19:53:33.476-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Obama</title><content type='html'>I love &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Obama&lt;/span&gt;. I just listened to his speech on NPR and was so impressed with his points regarding the reality of racism and the &lt;span style="color:#ffff00;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;race&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;stalemate we are all in. Its easy to get into the blame game that we all get into trying to find a reason for why things are not as we had hoped. 'white &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;privilege&lt;/span&gt; is something people are so resistant. The reality is though that not many people describe me as the white girl with brown curly hair, Anyone of any other race do not have that luxury therefore, it is a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;privilege&lt;/span&gt; and the definition of racism involved those who have a position of power.....Hello!!!! That would be the whites. I am not talking each person or &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;their&lt;/span&gt; individual &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;circumstances&lt;/span&gt;.....&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;I'm&lt;/span&gt; talking about the entire race as compared to other races.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;Obama&lt;/span&gt; rocks my world.&lt;br /&gt;Jennie&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4652527714810038783-3827869319282063231?l=owenthecat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://owenthecat.blogspot.com/feeds/3827869319282063231/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4652527714810038783&amp;postID=3827869319282063231' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4652527714810038783/posts/default/3827869319282063231'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4652527714810038783/posts/default/3827869319282063231'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://owenthecat.blogspot.com/2008/03/obama.html' title='Obama'/><author><name>Jennie Holmes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08879093916636152653</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='20' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_O_bMWPc51jc/R7OorXNI9oI/AAAAAAAAAAU/1-oaaRZvV-c/S220/497349509_f929349655_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4652527714810038783.post-5960229375134082705</id><published>2008-03-15T22:52:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-03-15T23:19:01.921-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Mac is my hero and my cobbler</title><content type='html'>Mac is the man who has fixed my shoes for the past 15 years or so.  Well In my case its a big deal since a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;surgery&lt;/span&gt; has left my left leg significantly shorted by about 3/4&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt; of an inch.  My doctor and physical therapist have suggested that I &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;change&lt;/span&gt; my lift to give my legs more stability and better &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;evenness&lt;/span&gt;.  &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Ok&lt;/span&gt;, so already he is my hero for helping me with my shoes.  I look forward to our chats when I enter the door.  I secretly hope no one is in there to look forward to another one of his stories of his 82 year old life.  He is one of five brothers.  The youngest of five who served in WWII.  His brother was in a  Fighter/bomber pilot with three successful tours.  The third &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;tour&lt;/span&gt; was quite rough.  Mac was in the navy but never had to be in combat.  His labour of love was a WWII memorial in Hamilton, MA for all the men and women who served and lived in Hamilton.  It took 5 years but its completed and its beautiful.  On the other side there will be Vietnam and Korean war veterans.    I sat and listened as he went through each name on the memorial list most of them no longer living.  He stopped and tell me stories about some of his friends.  One family had 5 children go to war and she was a widow.  &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;Fortunately&lt;/span&gt; 4 of the 5 came home. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The other proud accomplishment that I learned about today was the pool that he and some of his friends built for the children of Hamilton.  All of the children receive swimming lessons.  "If I have save one life then it was worth it."  I am sure he has saved more than one life.  I listen some more.  His first wife was ill the last few years of her life of anorexia.  His second wife is feisty he says and smiles.  September is Mac's 82&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;nd&lt;/span&gt; birthday.  He has touched my life and is on a short list of people who have helped me manage this thing called Cerebral Palsy. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I left smiling.  I began thinking about Mac the fire chief for 40 years.  His entire life has been about service, working hard and giving back to those in need.  I get the feeling he isn't even aware of most of what he has done.  I miss his beautiful dog, She was a joy to pet as I walked into the shop.  I make sure to not bring her up since the last time I made that mistake he was &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;visibly&lt;/span&gt; choked up.  This is how it will be for me when Owen goes.  This is how it will be when Mac leaves this earth to party with his family and friends.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4652527714810038783-5960229375134082705?l=owenthecat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://owenthecat.blogspot.com/feeds/5960229375134082705/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4652527714810038783&amp;postID=5960229375134082705' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4652527714810038783/posts/default/5960229375134082705'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4652527714810038783/posts/default/5960229375134082705'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://owenthecat.blogspot.com/2008/03/mac-is-my-hero-and-my-cobbler.html' title='Mac is my hero and my cobbler'/><author><name>Jennie Holmes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08879093916636152653</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='20' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_O_bMWPc51jc/R7OorXNI9oI/AAAAAAAAAAU/1-oaaRZvV-c/S220/497349509_f929349655_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4652527714810038783.post-2139609831602649201</id><published>2008-03-14T20:36:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-03-14T21:01:26.851-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Another day another dime</title><content type='html'>I made it through another week.  I even made it to Blockbuster for some movies.  I still have a long way to go but each day focusing on the mundane does help.  I caught up all of my notes today.  It helped me to leave work without extra stress.  I made plans with friends.  I am picking up my shoes from the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;cobbler&lt;/span&gt; tomorrow, going to Trader Joe's  I am officially out of hibernation mode even though I don't necessarily feel like it.  The sun is out longer, the spring is coming.  I spent too much time unable to move.  It is time to move. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Owen and I had a serious cuddle session.  I have been wearing clothes that are super soft.  I am trying to use lotion and enjoy how it feels on my skin.  All of these are efforts to meet the needs I have for physical affection.  One of my big concerns is that I will not make good choices regarding men for no other reason but b/c I am craving the physical need for touch.  I have no desire to set myself up for yet another heart ache.  I do miss the just sleeping part most.  Having someone in bed someone to hold.  This is one of the things I will take with me.  One of the things for which I am most thankful.    Hopefully the next person will have several things for which I am thankful.  I will be with someone with whom I can understand and who can understand me.  Help me to not fall for the next &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;attractive&lt;/span&gt; man but the right attractive man for me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4652527714810038783-2139609831602649201?l=owenthecat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://owenthecat.blogspot.com/feeds/2139609831602649201/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4652527714810038783&amp;postID=2139609831602649201' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4652527714810038783/posts/default/2139609831602649201'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4652527714810038783/posts/default/2139609831602649201'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://owenthecat.blogspot.com/2008/03/another-day-another-dime.html' title='Another day another dime'/><author><name>Jennie Holmes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08879093916636152653</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='20' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_O_bMWPc51jc/R7OorXNI9oI/AAAAAAAAAAU/1-oaaRZvV-c/S220/497349509_f929349655_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4652527714810038783.post-6822161328611559755</id><published>2008-03-12T12:45:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-03-12T12:47:09.776-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The meaning of grief....</title><content type='html'>Something for me to ponder.....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Grief can have a quality of profound healing because we are forced to a depth of feeling that is usually below the threshold of awareness. Though many of our motivations come from this level of fear, of loss, yet we don’t know where these volitions originate. We simply find ourselves lost in action, in anger or fear, pushing away others, grasping at what we imagined to be our safety, constantly guarding our heart.&lt;br /&gt;This tearing open of the heart leaves us exposed to that which has caused us and our loved ones the pain of imagined separateness so often before. This experience of discovery that grief leads us to is, for some, like going below ground level to look at the roots of a tree whose branches and twigs, leaves and flowers were all you thought were meaningful. by Steven Levine&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4652527714810038783-6822161328611559755?l=owenthecat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://owenthecat.blogspot.com/feeds/6822161328611559755/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4652527714810038783&amp;postID=6822161328611559755' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4652527714810038783/posts/default/6822161328611559755'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4652527714810038783/posts/default/6822161328611559755'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://owenthecat.blogspot.com/2008/03/meaning-of-grief.html' title='The meaning of grief....'/><author><name>Jennie Holmes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08879093916636152653</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='20' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_O_bMWPc51jc/R7OorXNI9oI/AAAAAAAAAAU/1-oaaRZvV-c/S220/497349509_f929349655_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4652527714810038783.post-2943605397030687228</id><published>2008-03-09T21:41:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-03-09T22:00:19.884-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Hope in the face of mourning</title><content type='html'>Today feels like a turning point.   Many weeks of working on myself.  Swimming, stretching, knitting, loving Owen.  I read the Please Stop email today from Jason and did not cry.  I made a date with someone who seems cool.  We seem to have put all our largest issues already out there.  No surprises with the limping this time.  One less thing to think about.  I almost didn't pursue this one b/c there were too many similarities  between he and Jason.  At this point though, I would think of Jason for any random reason.  He is my frame of reference. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hope I stop crying, and mourning this one sooner than later but I have been avoiding this work for almost a year and am barely three weeks into NC.  I hate living in fear.  I hate avoiding going to church b/c I am too freaked out about seeing his house or the dog, or Tank or Kathy.  I will not be humiliated any more.  I have to keep remembering this will not be forever.  There will be a day I will not fear seeing him from across the road and turning around.  Next week is Easter the year &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;anniversary&lt;/span&gt; of our break up conversation.  'I do not feel for you what you feel for me."  That is about all I remember at this point.  None of it really matters any more.  I loved him. He did not love me and as Bonnie &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Raitt&lt;/span&gt; says, I can't make you love me if you don't.  I can't make your heart feel something it won't.....I tried, and tried but to no avail.  Maybe I won't feel so abandoned next time, or have him be disgusted with how unable I was to respect his boundaries.  Maybe I will learn how to take care of myself, my heart and my mind.  In the mean time....I will love Owen to pieces.  I will stretch, swim and survive.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4652527714810038783-2943605397030687228?l=owenthecat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://owenthecat.blogspot.com/feeds/2943605397030687228/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4652527714810038783&amp;postID=2943605397030687228' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4652527714810038783/posts/default/2943605397030687228'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4652527714810038783/posts/default/2943605397030687228'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://owenthecat.blogspot.com/2008/03/hope-in-face-of-mourning.html' title='Hope in the face of mourning'/><author><name>Jennie Holmes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08879093916636152653</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='20' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_O_bMWPc51jc/R7OorXNI9oI/AAAAAAAAAAU/1-oaaRZvV-c/S220/497349509_f929349655_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4652527714810038783.post-6651023581290507492</id><published>2008-03-09T01:34:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-03-09T01:52:13.998-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Atonement</title><content type='html'>Atonement, reparation for an offense or injury  or in this case a beautiful movie.  I was so incensed by the wrong committed in this movie.  It is awful to accuse and lie.  What if one convinces oneself of rightness as in this case.  The clues seemed to add up but in fact they did not.  &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Reconciliation&lt;/span&gt; reparation such beautiful words but damage is not so easily forgiven.  I think that is why grace is such a tough word to wrap my head around.  On one hand I want so &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;desperately&lt;/span&gt; to be forgiven on the other I don't think I truly deserve it.  Maybe that really is the point.  Perhaps none of us truly deserve the hands that we are dealt or the forgiveness that so often befalls us from the people with whom we are connected.  Maybe we do, though.  Isn't that what I wonder as I stay up and think....maybe I really do deserve everything that has happened to me.   I just don't or can't accept that.  I can't allow that life deals fairly with any of us.  Who deserves to be raped, sexually abused by their dad or have their mother taken from them b/c of a drunk driver.  That is just absurd  I have &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;to say&lt;/span&gt; God, all that you allow in this world to happen to children makes my stomach turn.  If one more person tries to explain free will to me I am going to gag.  I realize I will never have the mind of God but that doesn't mean I can't be completely &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;appauled&lt;/span&gt; at your allowing innocence to be perverted in such horrendous ways.  I know you love me and you love them and I know your heart must ache more than I can imagine for them.  I am just tired of fighting for the voices of those who have lost or think their voice doesn't matter.  Please help.  Please don't let Evil win so much.  Please help me remember that healing is possible and LOVE will prevail over ignorance, selfishness and indifference.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4652527714810038783-6651023581290507492?l=owenthecat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://owenthecat.blogspot.com/feeds/6651023581290507492/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4652527714810038783&amp;postID=6651023581290507492' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4652527714810038783/posts/default/6651023581290507492'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4652527714810038783/posts/default/6651023581290507492'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://owenthecat.blogspot.com/2008/03/atonement.html' title='Atonement'/><author><name>Jennie Holmes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08879093916636152653</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='20' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_O_bMWPc51jc/R7OorXNI9oI/AAAAAAAAAAU/1-oaaRZvV-c/S220/497349509_f929349655_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4652527714810038783.post-5186227756573963500</id><published>2008-03-08T18:31:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-03-08T18:43:30.254-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Misguided and wrong about anger</title><content type='html'>Ventilation.....venting your anger.  I always thought it was a good strategy.  come to find out from some reading and one of my client's a boy that can't seem to keep his hands off other kids when he is upset that all venting does is rehearses your anger.  There is no problem solving or solution attempted only a release which in the moment might help but in the long run accomplishes nothing except alienating someone that you like.  Anger is a feeling or a signal that something is wrong or needs to be changed.  It isn't a solution to a problem.  It creates more problems if viewed in another way than to help one identify something.   Man o Man if only I had grasped this as a younger person.  I might be in a much calmer place. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have held anger up on a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;pedestal&lt;/span&gt;.  I told myself it would motivate me, protect me from those who had harmed me.  All it has really done is keep me more angry, alone and unable to let go of the things that hurt me before I hurt others and make it worse.  Help me learn how to solve, identify and let go rather than vent and gain strength from the noose I have created in my wrong ideas about the helpfulness of anger.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4652527714810038783-5186227756573963500?l=owenthecat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://owenthecat.blogspot.com/feeds/5186227756573963500/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4652527714810038783&amp;postID=5186227756573963500' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4652527714810038783/posts/default/5186227756573963500'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4652527714810038783/posts/default/5186227756573963500'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://owenthecat.blogspot.com/2008/03/misguided-and-wrong-about-anger.html' title='Misguided and wrong about anger'/><author><name>Jennie Holmes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08879093916636152653</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='20' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_O_bMWPc51jc/R7OorXNI9oI/AAAAAAAAAAU/1-oaaRZvV-c/S220/497349509_f929349655_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4652527714810038783.post-243918506364749611</id><published>2008-03-07T20:58:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-03-07T21:12:09.693-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Love and adoption</title><content type='html'>I had a rough day, meeting &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;pre-adoptive&lt;/span&gt; homes for one of my kids.  I promised her I would meet anyone we would consider for adoption.  I thought, I talked, I explained everything I know about this child.  My heart is breaking.  It will officially kill me if they take her and then return her.  I tried to make it clear that she did have issues, she does need lots of help learning how to be a young girl.  She needs to be loved, accepted, held accountable.  To name a few.  I will miss her. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She isn't one of my kids,  she is my client.  I do not have children.  I will not have biological children.  Maybe I will adopt with someone who loves me.  Otherwise I can't do it alone.  I don't want to do it alone. I could and would do it if I had to but its not the ideal.   I really miss him, and his pseudo mom his cats and that &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;lovable&lt;/span&gt; dog.   Thank God I have Owen who waits and looks forward to me coming home. So many losses, so much to handle,  Please help us accept being loved and cared for even if we are not sure we deserve it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4652527714810038783-243918506364749611?l=owenthecat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://owenthecat.blogspot.com/feeds/243918506364749611/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4652527714810038783&amp;postID=243918506364749611' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4652527714810038783/posts/default/243918506364749611'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4652527714810038783/posts/default/243918506364749611'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://owenthecat.blogspot.com/2008/03/love-and-adoption.html' title='Love and adoption'/><author><name>Jennie Holmes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08879093916636152653</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='20' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_O_bMWPc51jc/R7OorXNI9oI/AAAAAAAAAAU/1-oaaRZvV-c/S220/497349509_f929349655_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4652527714810038783.post-5865191409999100366</id><published>2008-03-03T22:42:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-03-03T22:53:48.946-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Owen and Mommy.</title><content type='html'>We sat, cuddled and I cut matted fur off his 19 year old body.  It's become a regular &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;occurrence&lt;/span&gt; as I am bound and determined to have him be matte free at some point.  I love that he lets be hug him and we sit face to face while he purrs and I pet.  He lets me cut out his tufts even though there is a whole &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;nother&lt;/span&gt; meow into the mix.  Its a mix between a meow and a growl of disapproval  in essence....meowl....Oh joy is time for that big red ball between my legs to fight the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;adductors&lt;/span&gt; desire to cross or in &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;CP&lt;/span&gt; speak scissoring.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My mom called and we chatted.  A knee replacement hurts,  It hurts, i mean it really HURTS.  Her &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;percocetts&lt;/span&gt; make her not be able to sleep me....all I wanted to do on p&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;ercs&lt;/span&gt; is sleep.  So we compared notes.  She asked about my &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;CP&lt;/span&gt;.  She didn't have a clue about spasms, palsy or scissoring either.  "you know if I had known I would have told you."  One of the kindest things she has ever said.  She had no idea what was happening to me either.  No one ever explained it to her.  It makes me cry just to write it.  She would have helped me if she had known how.  This was an unexpected gift.  Thanks Mommy.  I love you too.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4652527714810038783-5865191409999100366?l=owenthecat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://owenthecat.blogspot.com/feeds/5865191409999100366/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4652527714810038783&amp;postID=5865191409999100366' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4652527714810038783/posts/default/5865191409999100366'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4652527714810038783/posts/default/5865191409999100366'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://owenthecat.blogspot.com/2008/03/owen-and-mommy.html' title='Owen and Mommy.'/><author><name>Jennie Holmes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08879093916636152653</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='20' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_O_bMWPc51jc/R7OorXNI9oI/AAAAAAAAAAU/1-oaaRZvV-c/S220/497349509_f929349655_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4652527714810038783.post-3712415248637906700</id><published>2008-03-02T22:30:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-03-02T22:44:18.762-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Juno and happiness</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Juno is one of the best movies ever.&lt;/span&gt;  Her dialogue is &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;quintessential&lt;/span&gt; teenage.  Her cadence is so much like Sam's it was &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;freaky&lt;/span&gt;.  It just made me happy.  Her boyfriend was exactly how I would characterize a high school boy.  The holding her underwear was all we needed to know he was hopelessly in love. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It felt good to be out of the house on a weekend.  Its been a while.  I have learned how to purl now I know  the two basic stitches.  It's a great feeling.  I spent tons of time over the week at meetings and now i have something to do beside try and pay attention.  I have to gear up for more swimming, more stretching and more working out.  Juno was a great way to spend a few hours except for all the thoughts of how much Jason would be laughing if we we watching it together. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sarah and I went out to eat. Our waiter carded us, sent me the bill and then took off our drinks.  &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Yay&lt;/span&gt;.  Such a small gesture, but just such a kind thing for no reason, makes me think, OK sometimes people really do nice things without motive.  On another happy note, Owen continues to stick close to me at all times.  He spent lots of time on my chest today.  He curls up and looks like a kitten sometimes, then I see his gray filled rings around his eyes and know he is wise and loving from all those years of being there for me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4652527714810038783-3712415248637906700?l=owenthecat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://owenthecat.blogspot.com/feeds/3712415248637906700/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4652527714810038783&amp;postID=3712415248637906700' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4652527714810038783/posts/default/3712415248637906700'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4652527714810038783/posts/default/3712415248637906700'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://owenthecat.blogspot.com/2008/03/juno-and-happiness.html' title='Juno and happiness'/><author><name>Jennie Holmes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08879093916636152653</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='20' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_O_bMWPc51jc/R7OorXNI9oI/AAAAAAAAAAU/1-oaaRZvV-c/S220/497349509_f929349655_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4652527714810038783.post-9071709698804668217</id><published>2008-03-01T17:43:00.006-05:00</published><updated>2008-03-01T18:04:10.799-05:00</updated><title type='text'>To do nothing or to be nothing</title><content type='html'>I can't even remember the last time I did something on a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Saturday&lt;/span&gt; or &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Sunday&lt;/span&gt;. Its ironic really. One of the things that used to drive me nuts about &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Yason&lt;/span&gt; is that he would sleep all day or not leave his room, house. Now the idea, that I have to get back out there isn't all that appetizing. A friend asked me if I was sitting on the couch unable to because I was depressed or because I wanted to be there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have been telling myself, I want to be here, there is a part of me though, that worries I might run into &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;him&lt;/span&gt; after church. There is another part of me that is tired. There is a part of me that is just used to not doing anything. I have been doing laundry lately. So that is something. Everything just seems so unappealing. Is that depression? Well since I have been depressed and on antidepressants now for ....years its hard to differentiate. I am more contented with my life now. I love that I taught myself to knit. I am trying to learn purling right now. Not so simple but I will get it. I like swimming a lot. I love the jacuzzi. I am a good therapist. I want to be a great therapist. I want to make kids lives better. I want to believe that I have good things to offer my friends. I want to make choices based on my intuition not just my feelings. I don't want to feel like a prisoner of my own home. I don't want to have &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;CP&lt;/span&gt; especially when I spasm, I don't want to increase my lift. I do want better posture, I don't want to develop back problems. I do want someone to know me and not turn away from me. I do want to grow in my love of God. I do not want to be ashamed of being a Christian. I don't want people to be hurt by selfish idiots in the name of God who show no compassion, care. or grace towards their fellow man. I want to not miss or think of Jason every weekend day.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4652527714810038783-9071709698804668217?l=owenthecat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://owenthecat.blogspot.com/feeds/9071709698804668217/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4652527714810038783&amp;postID=9071709698804668217' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4652527714810038783/posts/default/9071709698804668217'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4652527714810038783/posts/default/9071709698804668217'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://owenthecat.blogspot.com/2008/03/to-do-nothing-or-to-be-nothing.html' title='To do nothing or to be nothing'/><author><name>Jennie Holmes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08879093916636152653</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='20' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_O_bMWPc51jc/R7OorXNI9oI/AAAAAAAAAAU/1-oaaRZvV-c/S220/497349509_f929349655_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4652527714810038783.post-2218942595372859181</id><published>2008-03-01T12:29:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-03-01T12:59:15.142-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Cerebral Palsy defined</title><content type='html'>I read the latest installment of Dr. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Botox's&lt;/span&gt; assessment of me. He sends me his notes that he gives to both my physical therapist and my insurance company I suppose. Its strange to read something about yourself that you just realized is a part of you. Cerebral Palsy Palsy "&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt; a condition marked by uncontrollable tremor of the body or a part.&lt;/span&gt;" Cerebral Palsy is defined as, "&lt;span style="color:#996633;"&gt;a disability resulting from damage to the brain before, during, or shortly after birth and outwardly manifested by &lt;u&gt;muscular &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;incoordination&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/u&gt; and speech disturbances "&lt;/span&gt; Muscle &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;incoordination&lt;/span&gt; is a nice way of saying, your body doesn't move the way you would like. Spasms are the worst part really. &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;"an involuntary and abnormal muscular contraction."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; Translation as I sit with my legs apart with a big red ball in between my &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;aductors&lt;/span&gt; and my left leg, hip whatever starts to release move feel a little less tight, I can feel it. I start to get scared then I try to breathe, I say to myself something like, I don't have to be afraid I don't have to spasm. Its &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Ok&lt;/span&gt;, I can handle it, I can beat this. then it happens. Spasm.....everything shakes on both sides and there is an intense pulling in of the muscles.....its like my muscles &lt;span style="color:#993300;"&gt;are&lt;/span&gt; going....FUCK YOU. I can usually handle two major ones before I am like....OK OK, you win, and I remove the big red ball and go back to sleep....in essence a failure. I am so tired of fighting with them, but if I don't they win and they continue to inhibit my movement. Someone once said, you are the one that knows your own body, &lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;Well what do you do when your own body fights your every move?&lt;/span&gt; &lt;em&gt;I am not the master of my body, my body would &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;prefer&lt;/span&gt; for me to give up so it can become a tight, wad crumpled, crooked, and cursed. &lt;/em&gt;Sometimes I want to just curl up and pretend like it will all be OK. I can't though b/c it wont. Not in this life anyhow.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4652527714810038783-2218942595372859181?l=owenthecat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://owenthecat.blogspot.com/feeds/2218942595372859181/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4652527714810038783&amp;postID=2218942595372859181' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4652527714810038783/posts/default/2218942595372859181'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4652527714810038783/posts/default/2218942595372859181'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://owenthecat.blogspot.com/2008/03/cerebral-palsy-defined.html' title='Cerebral Palsy defined'/><author><name>Jennie Holmes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08879093916636152653</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='20' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_O_bMWPc51jc/R7OorXNI9oI/AAAAAAAAAAU/1-oaaRZvV-c/S220/497349509_f929349655_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4652527714810038783.post-84509556179699135</id><published>2008-02-29T14:28:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-02-29T14:46:09.025-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Dr. Botox</title><content type='html'>Owen and I have some special time scheduled today since I just got back from the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Botox&lt;/span&gt; Doctor.  It is usually such a draining experience that i took a sick day.   I got there two hours early today.  Yikes.  I had a feeling he would take me early once he saw I was there and had made a mistake with the time but I left anyhow.  I had gone to a conference yesterday in Lexington, bought all sorts of cool things, but of course left them under my seat......ugh.  No luck.  At least I checked though.  I had to give myself credit for this. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Went back to the office and he came down right away to see me.  I am doing everything right.  I need to swim more.  Everything though is A OK.  A chill ran up my spine.  No more Dr.  &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Botox&lt;/span&gt;.  I had gotten used to his lack of bedside manner and pep talks he would give to me.  He saw my surprise and said &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;ok&lt;/span&gt; well come back in 3 months to check in with me.  Lets take a look at your walking.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He agreed with my physical therapist that I should increase the lift.  The &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;descrepency&lt;/span&gt; in the length of my legs has also caused or I had it before....Scoliosis.  great another terrific diagnosis.  So my muscles in my back are much weaker on my left than my right side.  My posture is off.  I need to work on that too.  I need someone to help me stretch.  I have to get a schedule going.  He thinks I am doing great.  He really enjoys me.  Well I enjoy him and now he is leaving me too?  So weird that I can hate, and then begin to love after the initial denial is passed that this guy is trying to help me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Its so much to drink in.  I just sat in my car for a while.  I am doing great.  Its just such a mind shift.  I have to do all these things differently now.  I can't look back at the exercising that wasn't helping my &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;CP&lt;/span&gt;.  It just overwhelms and gets me to not go to the gym b.c I am depressed about it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am also proud of myself that I am successfully on the second week of the no Jason diet.  I don't even read his blog anymore.  It is the only thing that has helped me moved forward.  I am now such a believer in NC.  It just prolongs the pain but its impossible to do unless you know in your heart of hearts that is the only choice that will help you.  I am sue I will have tough days but I can't read his blog, I can't contact him.  It doesn't hurt that his last message to me was just cold.  I hate cold.  I need some warmth in my life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Owen continues to just be my rock.  He is always so glad to have me to cuddle next to him.  He even allows me to continue to pull out matted fur without too much fuss.  Its hard to imagine anything better in a cat.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4652527714810038783-84509556179699135?l=owenthecat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://owenthecat.blogspot.com/feeds/84509556179699135/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4652527714810038783&amp;postID=84509556179699135' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4652527714810038783/posts/default/84509556179699135'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4652527714810038783/posts/default/84509556179699135'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://owenthecat.blogspot.com/2008/02/dr-botox.html' title='Dr. Botox'/><author><name>Jennie Holmes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08879093916636152653</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='20' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_O_bMWPc51jc/R7OorXNI9oI/AAAAAAAAAAU/1-oaaRZvV-c/S220/497349509_f929349655_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4652527714810038783.post-6893958834346737715</id><published>2008-02-27T22:37:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-02-27T22:45:49.663-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Ears and then some</title><content type='html'>Man, on my way out the door I got a finger full of ear goock from Owen's Ear.  Oh goodness. Is that why Owen can'hear?  I hope not.  We had quite the experience with the q tips.  He was so patient  I thought for sure he would not want to spend time with me on the couch tonight.  He is such a good sport.  I hope he feels a bit cleared out so to speak.    It makes me think of Grace. They used to clean one another's ears.  It just had not even occured to me to help him with ear goock but now I know.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4652527714810038783-6893958834346737715?l=owenthecat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://owenthecat.blogspot.com/feeds/6893958834346737715/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4652527714810038783&amp;postID=6893958834346737715' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4652527714810038783/posts/default/6893958834346737715'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4652527714810038783/posts/default/6893958834346737715'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://owenthecat.blogspot.com/2008/02/ears-and-then-some.html' title='Ears and then some'/><author><name>Jennie Holmes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08879093916636152653</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='20' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_O_bMWPc51jc/R7OorXNI9oI/AAAAAAAAAAU/1-oaaRZvV-c/S220/497349509_f929349655_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4652527714810038783.post-8100597463413786443</id><published>2008-02-25T19:26:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-02-25T19:54:29.569-05:00</updated><title type='text'>He watches me.</title><content type='html'>Owen slept next to my head as close as he could.  It made me feel good.  I think its one of the best things in my life to have Owen just show affection all of the time.  He doesn't hold grudges or yell at me when he is  upset.  He waits for me to get up in the morning.  He sits next to me waiting for me to take him off our bed.  He meows when I get out of the shower, waits for me to get dressed.  Meows to remind me to feed him.    He sleeps all day he waits for me at the door so he knows I am home.  He is deaf.  He meows and then meows some more.  He watches me, we eat.  He meows some more.  He gets picked up to join me on the couch.  He watches me type.  He purrs and purrs some more.  He keeps me company.  He makes me feel loved and happy.  I am so happy to be able to care and make him happy so easily.  He is a gift.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4652527714810038783-8100597463413786443?l=owenthecat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://owenthecat.blogspot.com/feeds/8100597463413786443/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4652527714810038783&amp;postID=8100597463413786443' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4652527714810038783/posts/default/8100597463413786443'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4652527714810038783/posts/default/8100597463413786443'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://owenthecat.blogspot.com/2008/02/he-watches-me.html' title='He watches me.'/><author><name>Jennie Holmes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08879093916636152653</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='20' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_O_bMWPc51jc/R7OorXNI9oI/AAAAAAAAAAU/1-oaaRZvV-c/S220/497349509_f929349655_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4652527714810038783.post-5882300091715525744</id><published>2008-02-24T00:07:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-02-24T00:16:06.795-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Meow!</title><content type='html'>Meow!  this might me yet another memo about Owen but it isn't.  Meow is what Manuel used to say to me instead of hello.  Manuel is a young man I taught many years ago.  We read Catcher and the Rye together.  I loved this kid.  He was smart, funny, and his disability was that he had difficulty expressing himself verbally.  My job was really to talk and read with him to increase his vocabulary.  I get paid for this? I thought to myself.  I wasn't going to argue with this one.  We were close.  I watched him graduate.  I helped him when his brother died in a plane crash.  I listened when he complained about his father or was stressed about a girl.  I just wanted to be there for him. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He just called he is in Indiana.  I never know where he will be when he calls.  I have received calls from all over the world. He is originally from Columbia, but has lived more places that I can remember.  He was like, Owen is still around?  Oh my God!  Yeah.  Owen is &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;da&lt;/span&gt; best.  He is &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;da&lt;/span&gt; baby  so I had two males, Owen and Manuel remind me that I am worth being around.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4652527714810038783-5882300091715525744?l=owenthecat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://owenthecat.blogspot.com/feeds/5882300091715525744/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4652527714810038783&amp;postID=5882300091715525744' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4652527714810038783/posts/default/5882300091715525744'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4652527714810038783/posts/default/5882300091715525744'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://owenthecat.blogspot.com/2008/02/meow.html' title='Meow!'/><author><name>Jennie Holmes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08879093916636152653</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='20' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_O_bMWPc51jc/R7OorXNI9oI/AAAAAAAAAAU/1-oaaRZvV-c/S220/497349509_f929349655_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4652527714810038783.post-1922851816109885030</id><published>2008-02-23T20:21:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2008-02-23T20:57:45.251-05:00</updated><title type='text'>History does not have to repeat itself</title><content type='html'>I just looked at the blog from start to finish. I had not realized I started blogging about Jason in October, the first time I started dealing with the reality that we were no a couple and hadn't been for quite some time. 5 months ago. 5 months ago if I had done all of this grief work he might want to be my friend by now. I put his blog on this website. I had no memory of this. I didn't look. I took everything off this computer. I can't look any more. It just causes more pain more rejection. I have to do things differently or I will keep being stuck back here blogging about my next heart ache.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I must admit &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;journaling&lt;/span&gt; has been much more helpful that I might have anticipated. Reading my life story although, frustrating shows how predictable my pattern has been humbling. It shows me how I have continued to not learn from my mistakes. God hasn't done this to me. I have not learned what I needed to learn. It is simple. If nothing changes, nothing will change. Familiarity has not served me well. Fear has not helped protect me. My denial has not helped me keep what was precious. I must listen and assume that people like Jason exist. Yes does not mean no. No does not mean yes. As it did in my family.  There is more people out there that honor their word and love honestly without regret.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4652527714810038783-1922851816109885030?l=owenthecat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://owenthecat.blogspot.com/feeds/1922851816109885030/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4652527714810038783&amp;postID=1922851816109885030' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4652527714810038783/posts/default/1922851816109885030'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4652527714810038783/posts/default/1922851816109885030'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://owenthecat.blogspot.com/2008/02/history-does-not-have-to-repeat-itself.html' title='History does not have to repeat itself'/><author><name>Jennie Holmes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08879093916636152653</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='20' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_O_bMWPc51jc/R7OorXNI9oI/AAAAAAAAAAU/1-oaaRZvV-c/S220/497349509_f929349655_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4652527714810038783.post-6154103504452878908</id><published>2008-02-23T12:40:00.006-05:00</published><updated>2008-02-23T16:52:09.766-05:00</updated><title type='text'>losses, all of them</title><content type='html'>I thought I would take some time to write down all the fears or ideas I have about myself. I have spent a long time trying to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;integrate&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; all the different pieces of myself. I have hid parts of myself from others and from myself. I have insight sometimes, I have intelligence, I have beauty but I can't hold on to that knowledge for any length of time. I can however, hold on to all those things that have hurt, pierced, prodded or found a home somewhere in my soul, body, mind and heart.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I would be a better happier person had I been born normal.&lt;br /&gt;I would be an &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;athlete&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; if it were not for my Cerebral Palsy.&lt;br /&gt;I would have been a dancer like my sister if it hadn't been for my &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;CP&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;I would have been popular if it hadn't been for my &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;CP&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;I would have been married with kids by now if it weren't for my &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;CP&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;I would have a clue how to love someone if I hadn't tried so hard to hide what was really true about me.&lt;br /&gt;I would have known how to deal with my dad's alcoholism or my brother's addiction if I had more awareness of myself and my innate worth.&lt;br /&gt;I would have been able to deal with everything else &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;CP&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; and all if I hadn't been sexually molested and my parents had taken my side.&lt;br /&gt;I would have been felt better about myself if I thought I could trust or be truthful with anyone.&lt;br /&gt;I always wanted to be my sister, if I were her then I would be happy. She had everything I wanted, friends, popularity, passion for her dancing, and an ability to handle adversity.&lt;br /&gt;She was molested too, but thought it wasn't a big deal, get over it, Jen.&lt;br /&gt;I would have done better for myself if I had not felt the need to drink or be cool.&lt;br /&gt;I lived inside my television set. It was my best friend. It never disappoints.&lt;br /&gt;I tried to fill my life with material things. That would make me cool. I changed my dress, I tried to be something I thought was wonderful. My freshman year of college was one more example of me putting myself in a situation where I would be reminded of the beautiful people and then there was me. Imperfect, even my RA told me she had respect for me that I had chosen such an elitist school. I continued to be reminded of all the ways I wasn't good enough. If I didn't believe it then, I would believe it after two semesters of school.&lt;br /&gt;I had a roommate who thought I was uncool, unaware of how to be popular. She told me that I would go to hell since I wasn't a born again Christian. Rather than go my own way, I tried over and over to be her friend. Even then I had to experience rejection to the nth degree.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Later during a Christian teaching and training trip, yeah you read that correctly. I ended up wanting and needing total acceptance and love the only person that seemed could help me was not someone on this world. It was God. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;Of course&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; then I fell for a guy named David. He was on crutches and I was more than happy to tell him exactly how to use his crutches. We had a close friendship. He was dating someone else. Of course I had to fall for the unavailable one. He spent tons of time with me. Later he showed me on an index card how and why I was crazy for thinking we were anything other than friends. I didn't stop crying for over a year I think. I thought I was nuts for being so stupid. I transferred I wanted to be a SPED teacher. I fell again for my best friend at the time. Another unattainable one. I feel so hard and i even stayed in my college town just to be closer to him. We were beyond close. He loved me. He wasn't in love with me. I was 24 and thought no one would ever love me. Was that what drove my unwillingness to risk love? I had already been slammed hard and hard twice. I hadn't learned how to be different in relationships. Four years later and I did it again almost exactly the same story. I fell for a fellow teacher. Four years my junior just like last love relationship. He was a budding musician and I went to every show. I was a groupie. I wanted him to love me. He liked me well enough, but he didn't love me. 3 x. Aren't I supposed to stop after three strikes?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fast forward to 35 and I started a long distance &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;internet&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; relationship. We spoke every day. Our connection was unreal. He came to visit. I wasn't attracted to him. By the end of the weekend, I was in love. He left. I made plans to go visit him. He wanted to marry me. At least that is what he said. 9/11 happened. He stopped calling. I went to visit my friends with my ticket and met him at the Chicago Museum. I thought we were getting back together. At the end of the day he wanted to be friends. He wasn't in love with me. 4 strikes. My fifth strike came with a married man. I threw everything out the window for a sexual, forbidden relationship. So much hurt. It was everything I always knew was true of me, I was a bad, unworthy of real love, damaged, and immoral. Fast forward to last year a long string of bad &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;internet&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; dates. A few sexual encounters, no relationships. I had been reading his blog, a friend had bought a cell phone from this, quirky engaging salesman. Are you single? She asks. Yes, he answers.&lt;br /&gt;I read his blog for months. How could I walk in to the store to see him? He would see me limp and it would be all over. Finally I had enough nerve to say hello on line. He said hello, he got angry right away that I tried to send a pic. He wanted to know me. I was so nervous I had to make it sexual. Even after that exchange, he wanted to spend time with me. He really liked me. Wow. Soon after that beginning we ended. He knew we couldn't make it. Not long term. Lets stop now and be friends. Then we can be friends for life. Great friends. I didn't want another friend. I didn't want to be liked. I wanted him to love me. We kept hanging out. I kept playing it cool. We started dating again. I thought maybe, Maybe we could make it. He broke up with me after I got back from Florida the end of March. He agreed to spend Easter with Me. We took pictures, he held my hand. I thought we would work out, he was just afraid. We continued to spend time together. My ankle started to really hurt. I was scared. He was there. I fell deeper in love with him after months of him being there for me. No one ever made me feel so whole so worth something. I really believed despite the differences and all the fights and all the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;miscommunication&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; that we could and would make it because he did not leave. He cared for me. He believed in me. I believed in him, his kindness, his commitment to integrity, I was convinced I would help him rebuild a relationship with his daughter. I felt like I had found someone who knew my soul and didn't reject it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He knew all along that his word was his word. We are friends that is all. When he began to pursue a dating relationship with someone else. I thought I was going to die. He was angry I hadn't taken him at his word. He was tired of seeing me so upset. He thought we all good with this friendship thing. I am so sorry that I couldn't just be his friend. We would be these great friends and be able to joke and razz one another. He could come with me to those awful &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;botox&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; injections with him making fun of me on &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;percocetts&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Instead we are here. I reacted badly a few too many times to reality. I was his friend he was looking for a girlfriend that wasn't me. He tried to be my friend and I couldn't not be in love with him. Jennie please stop contacting me. Please stop.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love is a strange thing really. It doesn't matter he isn't my dream guy. It doesn't matter that we can't seem to spend the day together without arguing at least once. It doesn't matter that he is an atheist and I am not. It doesn't even matter that he doesn't drive or have a job. What matters to me is that he is number six in my list of strikes out. These are all my losses all of my baggage. All of the things that I cry over. I wish Jason could know and believe that despite all I have done to hurt and disrespect him, I love him more than I have ever loved anyone and will never forget his kindness to me. He made me want to be a better person. He also brought out the worst part. Rejection and a reminder that number 7 is just around the corner if I don't do something with all of these losses. I will believe in miracles if God can help me with these beliefs that have been so comfortable inside this body and soul of mine. I hope this is my bottom as they say in 12 step land. I am sorry Y&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;ason&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;, that is what I used to call him. I was &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;yennie&lt;/span&gt; and he was &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14"&gt;yason&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4652527714810038783-6154103504452878908?l=owenthecat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://owenthecat.blogspot.com/feeds/6154103504452878908/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4652527714810038783&amp;postID=6154103504452878908' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4652527714810038783/posts/default/6154103504452878908'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4652527714810038783/posts/default/6154103504452878908'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://owenthecat.blogspot.com/2008/02/losses-all-of-them.html' title='losses, all of them'/><author><name>Jennie Holmes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08879093916636152653</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='20' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_O_bMWPc51jc/R7OorXNI9oI/AAAAAAAAAAU/1-oaaRZvV-c/S220/497349509_f929349655_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4652527714810038783.post-7327932350241333908</id><published>2008-02-22T23:19:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-02-22T23:31:40.171-05:00</updated><title type='text'>a good day at the office</title><content type='html'>I keep reading this blog, she keeps trying to encourage don't give up before the miracle happens. Is there going to be a day that I stop wondering how he is, or if he still hates me, or if I will ever be the sort of person that I would like to be.  Will there be a day when I don't think about Owen not being around.  Every time he meows I am grateful.  Every time he climbs up on my high bed, I clap on the inside. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This week I was able to reengage a little girl who had decided counseling was not for her.  I asked her to write down all the things she liked and didn't like about counseling.  Then I would consider it.  She did so.  We met.  I explained that I didn't like talking about my feelings either when I was her age.  I was also too afraid or too aggravated after holding all those emotions around for so long.  I wanted to help her with those feelings so she wouldn't have to feel so bad all the time.  "Lets Journal,"  She looked up,  What do you mean?  I mean we will journal.  We wont talk just communicate this way.  You can learn about me I can learn about you.  Then once you aren't feeling so overwhelmed and frustrated we can stop.  &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;OK&lt;/span&gt;, that was &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;OK&lt;/span&gt; with her.    It was &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;OK&lt;/span&gt; with me too.  So this is what this blog is for me.  I want it to be about &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Owen&lt;/span&gt; because some day he won't be around and well, He is my kid with fur.  He is more than important to me.  He is watching me as I type and any time now the paws will be on the key board.  He just wants affection and some food every once and a while but really, its affection.  I guess its true that your pets take on their owners attributes.  I will wrap my head around being worthy or good enough.  'some day.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4652527714810038783-7327932350241333908?l=owenthecat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://owenthecat.blogspot.com/feeds/7327932350241333908/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4652527714810038783&amp;postID=7327932350241333908' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4652527714810038783/posts/default/7327932350241333908'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4652527714810038783/posts/default/7327932350241333908'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://owenthecat.blogspot.com/2008/02/good-day-at-office.html' title='a good day at the office'/><author><name>Jennie Holmes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08879093916636152653</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='20' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_O_bMWPc51jc/R7OorXNI9oI/AAAAAAAAAAU/1-oaaRZvV-c/S220/497349509_f929349655_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4652527714810038783.post-4140434005745817071</id><published>2008-02-21T16:31:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-02-21T16:41:37.632-05:00</updated><title type='text'>owen is a good comfortor</title><content type='html'>so being at home and crying all day, i was in bed with owen.  he came on the bed yelling at me, i imagined he was saying something like, what is going on?  why are you home?  don't cry.  he laid on my pillow and went to sleep.  i am so glad he is still with me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i will go to the shrink today who i imagine will tell me what an idiot i am being for continuing to be upset over someone who has told you he wanted and needed space from you.  do you have some machocistic streak that hobs you will have to be put in a place of remembering in case i forgot that i am in fact unable to stay away from him.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4652527714810038783-4140434005745817071?l=owenthecat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://owenthecat.blogspot.com/feeds/4140434005745817071/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4652527714810038783&amp;postID=4140434005745817071' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4652527714810038783/posts/default/4140434005745817071'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4652527714810038783/posts/default/4140434005745817071'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://owenthecat.blogspot.com/2008/02/owen-is-good-comfortor.html' title='owen is a good comfortor'/><author><name>Jennie Holmes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08879093916636152653</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='20' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_O_bMWPc51jc/R7OorXNI9oI/AAAAAAAAAAU/1-oaaRZvV-c/S220/497349509_f929349655_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4652527714810038783.post-1089814205062908803</id><published>2008-02-18T21:04:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-02-20T20:34:31.583-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Knitting and Owen</title><content type='html'>As I sit here and knit.  I think about all the times I tried to learn and just didn't follow through.  There was the time I signd up for a class in Cambridge.   I was so embarrassed by my lack of manual dexterity that I left after one lesson and never went back.  There have been several including Denise who have promised to teach me, but the time never happened.  It wasn't until I found a blog and down loaded casting on and then knitting that I finally learned.  Over and over I watched until finally I got it.  Its much better than having someone there who has to wait for me to finally click in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The best part is Owen.  Long gone have I assumed his desire to play with yarn.  Oh how wrong I have been.  He actualy has been playing with me and trying to get my yarn.  Right now, in fact he is climbing all over this computer trying to get his proper amount of rubbing.  Over and over again until he gets it right.  Yeah, Owen and I are kindrid spirits.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4652527714810038783-1089814205062908803?l=owenthecat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://owenthecat.blogspot.com/feeds/1089814205062908803/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4652527714810038783&amp;postID=1089814205062908803' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4652527714810038783/posts/default/1089814205062908803'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4652527714810038783/posts/default/1089814205062908803'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://owenthecat.blogspot.com/2008/02/knitting-and-owen.html' title='Knitting and Owen'/><author><name>Jennie Holmes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08879093916636152653</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='20' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_O_bMWPc51jc/R7OorXNI9oI/AAAAAAAAAAU/1-oaaRZvV-c/S220/497349509_f929349655_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4652527714810038783.post-6298067620873547017</id><published>2008-02-17T23:23:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-02-17T23:41:15.852-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Owen and Grace</title><content type='html'>He sleeps....He sleeps next to me, on my legs, on a pillow next to me.  He meows every time he wakes up or stretches.  He purrs and just wants to be around where ever I am.  I was thinking today of Gracie, his sister.  She was tougher to love.  She was not as easily won over.  She wanted to be invited but not expected to sit near or on top of my stomach.  She was the dominant of the two.  Owen got on the wrong end of a swipe more than once.  She was the loud mouth frog.  Every move she made she squaked.  She was the smaller of the two.  She never weighed more than 8 or 9 pounds.  One of my favorite memories is her putting my parents dog, Dudley in his place.  She didn't mess around.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have such guilt about her b/c I know I loved Owen more.  He was so much more affectinate.  She was so stubburn, that little carrot topped calico cat.  I had no idea she was sick and i had no idea putting her down would to this day be the most horrible experience.  It isn't that I haven't been through more difficult or more horrible events  This one though, was my decision.  This was a choice to put her down.  Such a nice way to describe death.  I keep thinking that having made that choice makes me responsible.  I know it was kind intellectually but I will never forget it.  I hope she knows how much I did love her.  I really did love her.  I still cry just thinking about her.  I had no idea how attached I had become to my pets.  I had no idea it would still hurt so much.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4652527714810038783-6298067620873547017?l=owenthecat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://owenthecat.blogspot.com/feeds/6298067620873547017/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4652527714810038783&amp;postID=6298067620873547017' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4652527714810038783/posts/default/6298067620873547017'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4652527714810038783/posts/default/6298067620873547017'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://owenthecat.blogspot.com/2008/02/owen-and-grace.html' title='Owen and Grace'/><author><name>Jennie Holmes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08879093916636152653</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='20' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_O_bMWPc51jc/R7OorXNI9oI/AAAAAAAAAAU/1-oaaRZvV-c/S220/497349509_f929349655_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4652527714810038783.post-696242258967827272</id><published>2008-02-16T22:19:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-02-16T22:27:17.805-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Satchmo is no  Owen</title><content type='html'>Watched Once tonight, an Irish buscar movie with Scott and Denise.  97% according to Rotten Tomatos, OK it was a sweet, quiet movie, but Satchmo kept wanting me to pet him.  Ok, well I am used to owen who only wants attention and love.  Satchmo wants to swat you when you are getting too close......Ok so he is beautiful,  but he is definately no Owen. Ouch.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"If you can wrap your head around being worthy, then you can do what you love.  You can make a movie without lots of money, you can make it happen".....Glen Hansard&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4652527714810038783-696242258967827272?l=owenthecat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://owenthecat.blogspot.com/feeds/696242258967827272/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4652527714810038783&amp;postID=696242258967827272' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4652527714810038783/posts/default/696242258967827272'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4652527714810038783/posts/default/696242258967827272'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://owenthecat.blogspot.com/2008/02/satchmo-is-no-owen.html' title='Satchmo is no  Owen'/><author><name>Jennie Holmes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08879093916636152653</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='20' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_O_bMWPc51jc/R7OorXNI9oI/AAAAAAAAAAU/1-oaaRZvV-c/S220/497349509_f929349655_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4652527714810038783.post-6047684998365748559</id><published>2008-02-13T21:05:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-02-13T21:30:20.007-05:00</updated><title type='text'>parallel lines</title><content type='html'>Owen got up on the bed today and yesterday after not getting up for a few days.  I really miss him when he isn't here.  It was like a little gift after having just an awful day.  All of my issues and insecurities are so to the surface I can feel them.  No longer are there all of these defense mechanisms around me.  That is the good news and bad news.  I walk around waiting for something else to go wrong.  I have no real family support, I have a few really close friends, a good job, and a cat that I desparately want to live forever so I wont have to realize I have no one in my life that has been around for 20 years.  Or will it be like today.  A day that gives me just a bit of a hope.  Owen greeting me at the other side of the bed.  A wonderful surprise.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;An unexpected repreive from constant reminders of the ball between my legs or the pain that never goes away.  I miss Jason but that pain seems trivial to the pain I wish will go away and each day I realize my muscles are tight they are tight and by the way they are tight.  Shall I give up?  Just throw in the towel.  I can't even imagine having that sort of personalizty.  Fight to the death.  So much so that I think I have lost one of my kindest friends.  So I better put this fight into high gear.  Its good for something if my gait stops being something that makes me aware of how I feel less than, not as good, like day old bread, cheap and a little stale but tolerable.  And then I remember Owen didn't give up he got up on this crazy high bed so if he can do it I can do it.  I can stop letting the disdain of others  hurt me so.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4652527714810038783-6047684998365748559?l=owenthecat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://owenthecat.blogspot.com/feeds/6047684998365748559/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4652527714810038783&amp;postID=6047684998365748559' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4652527714810038783/posts/default/6047684998365748559'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4652527714810038783/posts/default/6047684998365748559'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://owenthecat.blogspot.com/2008/02/parallel-lines.html' title='parallel lines'/><author><name>Jennie Holmes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08879093916636152653</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='20' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_O_bMWPc51jc/R7OorXNI9oI/AAAAAAAAAAU/1-oaaRZvV-c/S220/497349509_f929349655_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4652527714810038783.post-4127809853865330861</id><published>2008-02-12T22:10:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-02-12T22:32:47.281-05:00</updated><title type='text'>staring</title><content type='html'>Staring is an interesting subject.  I have been known to win quite a few staring contests in my time.  What do I spend time staring at as of late is a knitting video.  I will learn no matter how many tries it takes.  I will learn.  Its great to play it over and over since it is finally getting into my motor memory.  Owen stares at me and I am convinced he can still see me although the dark specks in his eyes continue to grow.  Staring at the one you love or the one you are infatuated is always fun.  There are lots of good things associated with staring.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BUT when people stare at my gait, avert my eyes and go straight to my legs, a chill still finds its way down my spine.  Sometimes I want to scream, " my eyes are up here."  But I don't and I pass by.  "Take a yoga class", Finch suggests, "do you have any idea what is like to watch more coordinated, flexible people while they stare at you and what you cant do?"  Ok so I am an adult now and those things stop after elementary school right?  Well not in my case it hasn't.  He scolds me to remember that  Who cares what others think?  Well yeah, it all comes back to all the stares in my 42 years. People not looking at me but at my gait.  Its like sticky slime that gets washed off a little at a time but just when I think the last of it has been scrubbed off someone else stares at my gait.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So fast forward to today, Physical therapy.  A place of torture and safety.  Not once, twice or even three times but 4 times I walked back and forth for my PT.  That was ok but she was talking to her intern the whole time.  Discussing my hip, my this muscle, my that muscle, my knees, walk like this, walk more like that.  And then I just snapped.  I was done.  My little girl who was so tired of the stares looked straight at both of those women and said.  "I'm done.  You no idea what is like to be stared at and discussed like that like I am an object not Jennie but the limp.   Do you have any clue what that feels like with the amount of pain I have gone through lately."  Its all I could do to not just say, Fuck YOu.  She apologized the intern quickly disappeared, but even at PT  I end up having to educate, teach. understand.  She just thought I would be fine....oh Jennie she is so high functioning she is a professional, well sometimes Jennie just wants to be helped, and NOT stared at.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4652527714810038783-4127809853865330861?l=owenthecat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://owenthecat.blogspot.com/feeds/4127809853865330861/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4652527714810038783&amp;postID=4127809853865330861' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4652527714810038783/posts/default/4127809853865330861'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4652527714810038783/posts/default/4127809853865330861'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://owenthecat.blogspot.com/2008/02/staring.html' title='staring'/><author><name>Jennie Holmes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08879093916636152653</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='20' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_O_bMWPc51jc/R7OorXNI9oI/AAAAAAAAAAU/1-oaaRZvV-c/S220/497349509_f929349655_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4652527714810038783.post-3497963585715813464</id><published>2008-02-11T16:15:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-02-11T16:35:00.361-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Help us and our wretched bodies</title><content type='html'>Owen tried to get on my bed this afternoon to nap and he can no longer make it up even with the step ladder.  I lifted him up and he napped.  I stretched.  My hip is so tight that I can't seem to loosen it without extreme pain.  Even today when I thought I might get some movement and it just spasmed out.  Can I get it to loosen am I destined to not get back on a horse?  The pain no matter what I do doesnt subside on the hip.  Oh my, we are quite the pair.  Owen can barely move and I am the spasm queen. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In my heart of hearts i am so afraid.  I don't know what any of this really means for my future.  I can't maintain without lots of help stretching and I am at a loss.  I need a team really so as to not burden too many or have a set schedule.  I must believe I can improve despite the difficulty with my hip.   I can not let this beat me.  I have worked too hard and been through too much pain to stop now.  My body continues to just betray me.  Now I have to think about wat the ultrasound might find.  I don't understand where my faith has gone.  I used to know that I was walking with God and he would protect me.  Now I cry out for him and I continue to cry.  Please help me in my unbelief and in my fear.  I want to live believing in purpose, love, and reasons for suffering but all I continue to think and feel is more and more pain.  Help me.  I need you now more than ever.  I am so lost.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4652527714810038783-3497963585715813464?l=owenthecat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://owenthecat.blogspot.com/feeds/3497963585715813464/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4652527714810038783&amp;postID=3497963585715813464' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4652527714810038783/posts/default/3497963585715813464'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4652527714810038783/posts/default/3497963585715813464'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://owenthecat.blogspot.com/2008/02/help-us-and-our-wretched-bodies.html' title='Help us and our wretched bodies'/><author><name>Jennie Holmes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08879093916636152653</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='20' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_O_bMWPc51jc/R7OorXNI9oI/AAAAAAAAAAU/1-oaaRZvV-c/S220/497349509_f929349655_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4652527714810038783.post-3389469754912664391</id><published>2008-02-09T21:10:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-02-09T21:35:38.197-05:00</updated><title type='text'>poor owen</title><content type='html'>Poor Owen, Sarah came over to keep me company since the Botox ordeal. She is allergic so unlike normally Owen was not invited onto the couch to watch the Chick flick with us. It almost made me cry such not something he was/is used to. Sarah is a person I have known for almost 20 years. She was in my youth group. I will never forget the day we were in McDonalds with the group and she asked, "Do you only hang out with those who do drugs?" " No , I responded." What in the world did this nice, together honor student from a good Christian home want with me? This was one of my first lessons in being with people for no other reason but b/c maybe God had put them in your path. Sarah and I have been through more than most. We transitioned from Mentor to friend, we survived my rage after she got into an accident in my car in my condo complex and did not offer to help me pay for it. She worked though being gang raped while on a missions trip. She is now a social worker for the Elderly. She is going to get her masters this next year. She asked me once while in high school should she go psychology or social work I said well if you go SW you can get your BSW and your masters will be only a year vs. two for psych. She took my advice and now is flourishing in her career. She is one of the biggest joys of my life other than Owen. It makes me feel that all my commitment to people and young people made a difference. She now is in a situation where she helps me after my own weakness. We worked though the things I didn't think we could manage. She makes me feel like maybe I have something to offer others. Maybe just because I have not had lots of experience with men it doesn't mean I should give up. I have something to offer when it comes to compassion and experience with others. I need to see what others see in me. I need to remember I am not the ugliest ducking in the pond, or the worst person left in the room to dance with. I don't seek pity, I don't expect special treatment, I don't see myself as disabled, I know I am attractive, I am not ashamed to be someone who tries to love God and is thankful for her life most of the time. I need to just find a life for myself that helps me recharge when I am not at work. I need to live a life just as interesting out of work as in work. Please show me how and give me the strength to do so.....amen.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4652527714810038783-3389469754912664391?l=owenthecat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://owenthecat.blogspot.com/feeds/3389469754912664391/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4652527714810038783&amp;postID=3389469754912664391' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4652527714810038783/posts/default/3389469754912664391'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4652527714810038783/posts/default/3389469754912664391'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://owenthecat.blogspot.com/2008/02/poor-owen.html' title='poor owen'/><author><name>Jennie Holmes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08879093916636152653</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='20' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_O_bMWPc51jc/R7OorXNI9oI/AAAAAAAAAAU/1-oaaRZvV-c/S220/497349509_f929349655_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4652527714810038783.post-4915946341023850849</id><published>2008-02-02T11:31:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-02-02T11:46:10.969-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Doctors and care.</title><content type='html'>Everytime i look over and see his shaved neck I get nervous.  At least I helped him and overcame my fear of what the vet might say.  Do the right thing seems like a simple thing  to say and a tougheer experience.  I hope he felt cared for by my choice.  He might have just felt abandoned.  That is the worse feeling.   So glad he feels better now and that i succeeded in taking care of him.  Sometimes its the little things that mean the most.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;Yesterday I had to go to the OBGYN.  I was so nervous.  It is usually a very difficult expereince.  Perhaps this time my legs with all the botox will be easier to get up on those stirrups.  Not this time.  Still really uncomfortable.  My doctor rules, not only did she decide a while ago to use a childrens speculum.  It made all the difference.  but she said, "would you rather rest your leg on me?"  yes, if you do not mind?  No, problem, no pain.  The whole experience was I would not say enjoyable but not uncomfortable in the least.  I thanked the doctor and said.  "you are the only one that does not hurt me."  She looked at me and smiled.  No one let you rest your leg out of the stirrups, .  No I said.  So simple to be sensitive to someone with limited mobility.  It made all the difference.  That is what practicing responsible medicine is all about.  I left relieved and happy that I  no longer had to dread what I had always had to fear.  Now if I have to go to another OB at some point I will know how to advocate for myself if I can't get comfortable in the stirrups.  Wonderful.  Owen and I both got taken care of and can feel better for it.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4652527714810038783-4915946341023850849?l=owenthecat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://owenthecat.blogspot.com/feeds/4915946341023850849/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4652527714810038783&amp;postID=4915946341023850849' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4652527714810038783/posts/default/4915946341023850849'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4652527714810038783/posts/default/4915946341023850849'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://owenthecat.blogspot.com/2008/02/doctors-and-care.html' title='Doctors and care.'/><author><name>Jennie Holmes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08879093916636152653</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='20' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_O_bMWPc51jc/R7OorXNI9oI/AAAAAAAAAAU/1-oaaRZvV-c/S220/497349509_f929349655_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4652527714810038783.post-753467996558477464</id><published>2008-01-29T22:04:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-01-29T22:05:21.771-05:00</updated><title type='text'>sick kitty</title><content type='html'>Monday, January 28, 2008&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a name="5288411244897529351"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://owenspeak.blogspot.com/2008/01/awww.html"&gt;AWWW&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Owen had a tough night, couldn't keep anything down or get anything out. I gave him some medicine and pumpkin. I think he is dehydrated too. So upset this morning. I finally had a productive day, but worried about my baby. I love that he follows me around and wants to be with me in the same room. yay owen.  Ok so he still isn't better and now its Tuesday night.  I am taking him to the doctor tomorrow.  I get so afraid, but he deserves me to not be so selfish.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4652527714810038783-753467996558477464?l=owenthecat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://owenthecat.blogspot.com/feeds/753467996558477464/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4652527714810038783&amp;postID=753467996558477464' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4652527714810038783/posts/default/753467996558477464'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4652527714810038783/posts/default/753467996558477464'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://owenthecat.blogspot.com/2008/01/sick-kitty.html' title='sick kitty'/><author><name>Jennie Holmes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08879093916636152653</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='20' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_O_bMWPc51jc/R7OorXNI9oI/AAAAAAAAAAU/1-oaaRZvV-c/S220/497349509_f929349655_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4652527714810038783.post-5751804534068422938</id><published>2008-01-26T23:32:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-01-26T23:36:55.163-05:00</updated><title type='text'>hugs from Owen</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;When I wake up first, he looks at me and tries to determine if i am getting up.  Then he meows or looks for a hand to pet him.  I am not sure what he enjoys most about me but I know that our hugs are the highlight of my day.  He purrs and loves for me to hold him.  He doesn't pull away or try to move around.  He just moves into my chest and uses my chin as a way to get more rubbing.  He always looks as if He could stay much longer than my arms can oblige.  That is real unconditional love.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4652527714810038783-5751804534068422938?l=owenthecat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://owenthecat.blogspot.com/feeds/5751804534068422938/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4652527714810038783&amp;postID=5751804534068422938' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4652527714810038783/posts/default/5751804534068422938'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4652527714810038783/posts/default/5751804534068422938'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://owenthecat.blogspot.com/2008/01/hugs-from-owen.html' title='hugs from Owen'/><author><name>Jennie Holmes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08879093916636152653</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='20' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_O_bMWPc51jc/R7OorXNI9oI/AAAAAAAAAAU/1-oaaRZvV-c/S220/497349509_f929349655_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4652527714810038783.post-1115319834759679545</id><published>2008-01-25T19:21:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-01-25T19:35:08.315-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Gracie</title><content type='html'>mer re reeeowwwww reeeeoooow   rewwwoooo???  This was what i heard this morning.  A little alarmed.  I think I must have woken him up or he didn't know I was there and then I scared him.  I continue to be amused by the different sounds that come out of his mouth on a daily basis.  To think he was always the quiet one.  Grace never let him get a word in edgewise.  Grace died right around this time.    I feel so guilty thinking about her.  She wasn't as easy to love not like owen.  She yelled and yelled a lot.  She didn't let me hug or pet her like owen.  I loved her but not like I love Owen  I miss her though.  I miss her all the time. Losing her was worse than I could have ever imagined.  Grace always used to roll around when you pet her.  She loved her belly rubbed.  Gracie was a great girl.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4652527714810038783-1115319834759679545?l=owenthecat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://owenthecat.blogspot.com/feeds/1115319834759679545/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4652527714810038783&amp;postID=1115319834759679545' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4652527714810038783/posts/default/1115319834759679545'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4652527714810038783/posts/default/1115319834759679545'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://owenthecat.blogspot.com/2008/01/gracie.html' title='Gracie'/><author><name>Jennie Holmes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08879093916636152653</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='20' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_O_bMWPc51jc/R7OorXNI9oI/AAAAAAAAAAU/1-oaaRZvV-c/S220/497349509_f929349655_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4652527714810038783.post-6931530835443822221</id><published>2008-01-24T22:27:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-01-24T22:41:36.536-05:00</updated><title type='text'>He is a talker.</title><content type='html'>Owen has started to sleep all day and I am not sure he gets up at all when I am not here. He used to wait by the door for me.  Now he is on the bed sleeping.  Every night I come home worried that he might not wake up.    Maybe that will be a blessing.  I won't have to make the choice if he is too sick.  He will get to die on his own terms.  Lately he has been sleeping next to me on the bed.  I sit and listen for his breath.  He has actually woken me up in the middle of the night with meows while sleeping.  This is a whole new aspect of the love of my life.  He talks in his sleep!  I continue to be amazed at the love I have for him.  I know he cares even when I wake up and have to move one of  those god forsaken balls between my legs b/c the spasms are too much.  He is right there mrow, mrow mrow.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4652527714810038783-6931530835443822221?l=owenthecat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://owenthecat.blogspot.com/feeds/6931530835443822221/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4652527714810038783&amp;postID=6931530835443822221' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4652527714810038783/posts/default/6931530835443822221'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4652527714810038783/posts/default/6931530835443822221'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://owenthecat.blogspot.com/2008/01/he-is-talker.html' title='He is a talker.'/><author><name>Jennie Holmes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08879093916636152653</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='20' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_O_bMWPc51jc/R7OorXNI9oI/AAAAAAAAAAU/1-oaaRZvV-c/S220/497349509_f929349655_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4652527714810038783.post-4522744471931721274</id><published>2008-01-23T21:28:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-01-23T21:48:28.517-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Cat Hair</title><content type='html'>Owen and I have discovered a new game.  How much cat hair/matted cat hair can Jennie get out while giving him a great pet?  It is working out quite well.  I have an extensive technique to distract, while I pull.  Its almost as   good as popping a zit in the joy &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;category&lt;/span&gt;.    Cat hair is the subject of an interesting study one of my &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;colleagues&lt;/span&gt; just read.  A  bunch of lab rats played and enjoyed their cage.  They never saw a cat, never had the pleasure of knowing their was an arch enemy out there in the real world.  Then one day the researchers entered a single cat hair in the cage.  Eventually all of the rats &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;stopped&lt;/span&gt; playing, hid or froze powerless in a fear produced by the scent of a cat.  The single cat hair was later removed.  The rats never returned to their prior way of life.  Fear/trauma had taken over their life and would not let go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The nature of trauma paralyzes with or without the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;presence&lt;/span&gt; of real danger all that is needed is the perception of danger to change ones life.  Humans unlike rats, have the capacity to unlearn, learn a new way of proceeding.  Cat hair will never not remind me of the trauma response now.   Owen's cat hair makes me happy.   Knowing trauma doesn't have to determine ones path gives me hope.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4652527714810038783-4522744471931721274?l=owenthecat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://owenthecat.blogspot.com/feeds/4522744471931721274/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4652527714810038783&amp;postID=4522744471931721274' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4652527714810038783/posts/default/4522744471931721274'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4652527714810038783/posts/default/4522744471931721274'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://owenthecat.blogspot.com/2008/01/cat-hair.html' title='Cat Hair'/><author><name>Jennie Holmes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08879093916636152653</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='20' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_O_bMWPc51jc/R7OorXNI9oI/AAAAAAAAAAU/1-oaaRZvV-c/S220/497349509_f929349655_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4652527714810038783.post-6829488842337773004</id><published>2008-01-22T21:04:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-01-22T21:28:07.863-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Owen and Me</title><content type='html'>owen is curled up by my side squished between the couch back, a lap top and a microwavable heating pads.  no place for a kitty.  He has the most amazing way of curling up into the tiniest spaces.  He waits for the pet, the hug, and has tolerated all my pulling out his matted hair today so well.  He lives in the now.  He is happy most of the time and complains rarely even when he can't really move.  I guess all I need is to have someone one pet and feed me and I could be the same way.  Maybe  I should invest in an auto-feeder.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4652527714810038783-6829488842337773004?l=owenthecat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://owenthecat.blogspot.com/feeds/6829488842337773004/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4652527714810038783&amp;postID=6829488842337773004' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4652527714810038783/posts/default/6829488842337773004'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4652527714810038783/posts/default/6829488842337773004'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://owenthecat.blogspot.com/2008/01/owen-and-me.html' title='Owen and Me'/><author><name>Jennie Holmes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08879093916636152653</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='20' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_O_bMWPc51jc/R7OorXNI9oI/AAAAAAAAAAU/1-oaaRZvV-c/S220/497349509_f929349655_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4652527714810038783.post-1557214680417923692</id><published>2007-11-02T15:35:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2007-11-03T20:01:23.138-05:00</updated><title type='text'>truth about hobbies</title><content type='html'>The truth will set you free but it might make you miserable first. One of my favorite quotes. Its so true. Wow, hearing “I think getting a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;hobby&lt;/span&gt; is a great idea, it is one of the things that drove me nuts, I was your &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;hobby&lt;/span&gt;.” One of those things that I had to take in, listen, he continued, “I say nothing b/c its always the wrong thing”. Sad, but it is true. I do not have a life outside of work. I don’t have a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;hobby&lt;/span&gt;. I have a disability that has limited my choices.( I am consciously trying to admit that now) I tried knitting and was mortified that I could not learn as quickly as my co-knitters, I volunteered at a music club, loved doing that, but I moved back to Gloucester, plus I went and had a beer in the middle of the show, that was a big no no, and well, really disappointed the manager. I feel like I do that all the time, find a way to screw something up, almost like I can’t tolerate something good. I like to bake, but have not done that in years. I think I stopped b/c of money. Had none. I liked biking, but I don’t have a bike, I went to go get it several months after I moved, and she had given it away. It was my fault for not taking it when I had the opportunity. I volunteered with teenagers, but now that is my work, too much work stuff. I need another sort of outlet. Again another money issue, riding is expensive. I stopped. I have ridden horses, but I can’t now b/c of my legs. It is one of the main reasons I have put my self through all of this stuff with &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Botox&lt;/span&gt;. I can work out, but I haven’t been able to because of pain in recent months. I did not move on because I was sick. I was in pain. I had to be patient with myself. I was not strong enough to do the grief work, until recently. I will swim now. I will sit in the Jacuzzi. I will be &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;ok&lt;/span&gt;. I will learn to accept love health and healing. I will learn how to show more love, less criticism. I will learn.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4652527714810038783-1557214680417923692?l=owenthecat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://owenthecat.blogspot.com/feeds/1557214680417923692/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4652527714810038783&amp;postID=1557214680417923692' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4652527714810038783/posts/default/1557214680417923692'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4652527714810038783/posts/default/1557214680417923692'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://owenthecat.blogspot.com/2007/11/truth-about-hobbies.html' title='truth about hobbies'/><author><name>Jennie Holmes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08879093916636152653</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='20' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_O_bMWPc51jc/R7OorXNI9oI/AAAAAAAAAAU/1-oaaRZvV-c/S220/497349509_f929349655_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4652527714810038783.post-1217895794346196243</id><published>2007-10-30T15:31:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2007-10-30T15:31:50.993-05:00</updated><title type='text'>prayer</title><content type='html'>I accept love health and healing.  I accept that there are things I can not change.  I accept I have cerebral palsy.  I accept my muscles do not work as well as others.  I accept I forget where my keys are.  I accept I get scared and assume the worst.  I accept its easier for me to hear negative comments than it is to hear positives.  I accept I will not be with Jason in a long term relationship.  I accept I make choices with men based on fear vs. faith.  I accept that I have trust in others more than I have in myself.  I accept that I believe bad things about my life and assume its all my fault.  I accept there are things that happened to me that were not my fault.  I accept that although I chose to go be with my brother for his college graduation that it was not my fault that he molested me.  I accept that my family will not ever understand the damage they caused by not believing me.  I accept I chose to pin my difficulties with men on that event.  I accept I am angry with myself that I continue to struggle with this.  I accept that forgiveness seems for everyone else but me.  I accept that if God loves All mankind that includes me.  I accept that I do not understand his love.  I accept he mourns for all of those that suffer.  I accept that there is a loving God.  I accept there is healing for those who are broken.  I accept that I need forgiveness.  I accept that I allow my feelings to overwhelm me.  I accept my feelings are not truth.  My feelings just are.  I accept love health and healing from God above.  I pray that I might seek to understand vs. be understood that I would love vs. seek love.  I would listen before I speak and I would accept the unconditional love of God.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4652527714810038783-1217895794346196243?l=owenthecat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://owenthecat.blogspot.com/feeds/1217895794346196243/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4652527714810038783&amp;postID=1217895794346196243' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4652527714810038783/posts/default/1217895794346196243'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4652527714810038783/posts/default/1217895794346196243'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://owenthecat.blogspot.com/2007/10/prayer.html' title='prayer'/><author><name>Jennie Holmes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08879093916636152653</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='20' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_O_bMWPc51jc/R7OorXNI9oI/AAAAAAAAAAU/1-oaaRZvV-c/S220/497349509_f929349655_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4652527714810038783.post-841121092048221753</id><published>2007-10-22T23:01:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-10-22T23:23:36.427-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Fear of the unknown.</title><content type='html'>"You will discover that the more love you can take in and hold on to, the less fearful you will become."  Henri &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Nouwen&lt;/span&gt;.  Good words to remember, reminds me of "perfect love casts out fear."  Fear causes bodies to recoil, hearts to close and skin to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;wither&lt;/span&gt;.  Letting go of Love is one of those things that is &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;intangible&lt;/span&gt; yet the truest form of God on this earth.  Unselfish love, lays down our will, our wants, our hopes and says your will be done.  How many times have I prayed that prayer and hoped in the back of my mind....no Lord, MY will be done.  Coming to grips with ones short comings, ones sins has a twofold reaction.  It reminds me of how alike I am to even the most heinous of criminals.  It also gives me an appreciation for how much God's love for us must make him ache for the ways in which this world has turned away from all the goodness of the Earth.  We take our natural resources for granted, we disregard life when we might have to change our way of living to welcome and care for the millions of children who go &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;hungry&lt;/span&gt; or are starved for our most precious gift to give....our love and care.  Not to have children makes me sad.  Not to have someone to give love and then it be received and reciprocated makes me ache. I long for peace and the humility that comes from knowing  how much she is loved by the one who formed her and proclaimed her to be fearfully and wonderfully made.  I pray for continued healing and the strength to be the person you created me to be.  Not the person who lives and reacts through fear of the future.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4652527714810038783-841121092048221753?l=owenthecat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://owenthecat.blogspot.com/feeds/841121092048221753/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4652527714810038783&amp;postID=841121092048221753' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4652527714810038783/posts/default/841121092048221753'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4652527714810038783/posts/default/841121092048221753'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://owenthecat.blogspot.com/2007/10/fear-of-unknown.html' title='Fear of the unknown.'/><author><name>Jennie Holmes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08879093916636152653</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='20' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_O_bMWPc51jc/R7OorXNI9oI/AAAAAAAAAAU/1-oaaRZvV-c/S220/497349509_f929349655_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4652527714810038783.post-4314607838437379856</id><published>2007-10-21T14:19:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-10-21T14:30:31.338-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Window shopping</title><content type='html'>Window shopping.... the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;insinuation&lt;/span&gt; is that one is just looking not buying....Sort of like going to the MFA. Lots of looking, no touching and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;definitely&lt;/span&gt; no BUYING. What makes something...Museum worthy? Not sure I will ever understand. There were some &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;incredible&lt;/span&gt; blown glass creations, and beautifully intricate wooden furniture pieces that brought tears to my eyes. Beauty exists. Life continues. Jacob wrestled with God. Jennie....writes, reads, works some. I will get through this. I have no choice.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4652527714810038783-4314607838437379856?l=owenthecat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://owenthecat.blogspot.com/feeds/4314607838437379856/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4652527714810038783&amp;postID=4314607838437379856' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4652527714810038783/posts/default/4314607838437379856'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4652527714810038783/posts/default/4314607838437379856'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://owenthecat.blogspot.com/2007/10/window-shopping.html' title='Window shopping'/><author><name>Jennie Holmes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08879093916636152653</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='20' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_O_bMWPc51jc/R7OorXNI9oI/AAAAAAAAAAU/1-oaaRZvV-c/S220/497349509_f929349655_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4652527714810038783.post-4776702799257734323</id><published>2007-10-07T19:01:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-10-08T01:09:06.276-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Connecting with Children.</title><content type='html'>It is one of the things I do well. I believe so strongly in them and in their strengths. I care so much. I want them to believe in themselves. I want them to accomplish all that their hearts desires. I receive so much joy from them. So much hope. I can't live without hope. I live with the hope that things can and will change. The belief that people are complex creatures but love is more powerful than any other weapon that might exist. To love unconditionally is something that did not happen to me before I met Jesus. I think he had always been there watching, loving, caring, and yet I was not looking or caring. I started out so happy. All I remember from younger days was love. My family loved me. People liked me. I was a likable person. and then there was school.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4652527714810038783-4776702799257734323?l=owenthecat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://owenthecat.blogspot.com/feeds/4776702799257734323/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4652527714810038783&amp;postID=4776702799257734323' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4652527714810038783/posts/default/4776702799257734323'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4652527714810038783/posts/default/4776702799257734323'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://owenthecat.blogspot.com/2007/10/connecting-with-children.html' title='Connecting with Children.'/><author><name>Jennie Holmes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08879093916636152653</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='20' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_O_bMWPc51jc/R7OorXNI9oI/AAAAAAAAAAU/1-oaaRZvV-c/S220/497349509_f929349655_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4652527714810038783.post-5427471135878968879</id><published>2007-10-07T07:36:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-10-07T07:46:18.592-05:00</updated><title type='text'>My mom's birthday</title><content type='html'>My mom is 75 today.  Wow.  The idea of my mother's mortality is something I can't even begin to fathom.  She is the third sister of four.  Peggie, Bettie, Jennie, and Emilie.  Peggie died of lung cancer.  She was a full ten years older than mom.  Bettie came next.  She has five children.  She hosted Thanksgiving for all of us for years.  So strange to walk into a southern home and listen to all those dialects.  I loved her sons.  They were funny, athletic, one of them was even deaf and I didn't know it b/c he could read lips so well.  I think I was ten before I figured it out.&lt;br /&gt;Emilie her youngest sister lives in Mississippi.  Her house still isn't the same after Katrina.  She has some sort of cancer too.  Her son has down syndrome and her daughter and she are very close.  All three of them do everything together.  Rob is so high functioning.  Its sad really, that he lived in Miss.  not a lot of services for special ed.  He has done well with what he has though.&lt;br /&gt;I love my mom.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have spent so much time angry at her for doing this to me.....allowing me to be born with a disability.  Blame is an awful game.  no healing ever takes place.  I love her though.  She has always been there for me even if she can't tolerate negative emotions.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4652527714810038783-5427471135878968879?l=owenthecat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://owenthecat.blogspot.com/feeds/5427471135878968879/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4652527714810038783&amp;postID=5427471135878968879' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4652527714810038783/posts/default/5427471135878968879'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4652527714810038783/posts/default/5427471135878968879'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://owenthecat.blogspot.com/2007/10/my-moms-birthday.html' title='My mom&apos;s birthday'/><author><name>Jennie Holmes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08879093916636152653</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='20' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_O_bMWPc51jc/R7OorXNI9oI/AAAAAAAAAAU/1-oaaRZvV-c/S220/497349509_f929349655_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4652527714810038783.post-4124884014840936942</id><published>2007-10-06T17:24:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-10-06T17:35:06.557-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Children</title><content type='html'>How many children to you have?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You must love children.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You are so good with children.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You give so much.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You would be a good teacher...Lizzy age 11&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Its one of those things I will not understand. Why wasn't I open to having children.  Why did I have such a closed book on men?  Why couldn't I accept love from them?  It has taken so long to be open.  So having to accept no biological children seems tolerable now.  I like my down time.  I know how long and hard raising children can be.  I don't want to do it alone as some have suggested.  I am ok with that idea.   I do like the idea of being with someone else's kids not as a mother persay but as a mentor etc.  I was hopeful that Rebekah and I might meet and connect.  Perhaps when Jason and I make the transition successfully to friends.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4652527714810038783-4124884014840936942?l=owenthecat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://owenthecat.blogspot.com/feeds/4124884014840936942/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4652527714810038783&amp;postID=4124884014840936942' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4652527714810038783/posts/default/4124884014840936942'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4652527714810038783/posts/default/4124884014840936942'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://owenthecat.blogspot.com/2007/10/children.html' title='Children'/><author><name>Jennie Holmes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08879093916636152653</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='20' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_O_bMWPc51jc/R7OorXNI9oI/AAAAAAAAAAU/1-oaaRZvV-c/S220/497349509_f929349655_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4652527714810038783.post-8126395675425093755</id><published>2007-10-06T17:21:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-10-06T17:23:38.084-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Walking</title><content type='html'>I went walking in Ravenswood park today.  All these years and not once int any of those trails.  I Walked today.  I haven't been able to say that for ever. I am so thankful.  What a beautiful day.  It makes being here bearable.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4652527714810038783-8126395675425093755?l=owenthecat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://owenthecat.blogspot.com/feeds/8126395675425093755/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4652527714810038783&amp;postID=8126395675425093755' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4652527714810038783/posts/default/8126395675425093755'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4652527714810038783/posts/default/8126395675425093755'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://owenthecat.blogspot.com/2007/10/walking.html' title='Walking'/><author><name>Jennie Holmes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08879093916636152653</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='20' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_O_bMWPc51jc/R7OorXNI9oI/AAAAAAAAAAU/1-oaaRZvV-c/S220/497349509_f929349655_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4652527714810038783.post-2875772409128316979</id><published>2007-05-21T20:02:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-05-21T20:09:42.937-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Owen cares</title><content type='html'>Owen has taken to sleeping close to me as of late.  Owen always sleeps with me but this means on the corner of the bed or on his favorite pillow.  Now, though he is right near my head or more importantly, by my hand.  The quickest way for him to get his favorite activity to petting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I assume its because he knows my boyfriend and I have decided to no longer be together and this is his way of knowing I need extra affection.  This is probably what is known as a projection but still he has been more attentive and its much appreciated.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4652527714810038783-2875772409128316979?l=owenthecat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://owenthecat.blogspot.com/feeds/2875772409128316979/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4652527714810038783&amp;postID=2875772409128316979' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4652527714810038783/posts/default/2875772409128316979'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4652527714810038783/posts/default/2875772409128316979'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://owenthecat.blogspot.com/2007/05/owen-cares.html' title='Owen cares'/><author><name>Jennie Holmes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08879093916636152653</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='20' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_O_bMWPc51jc/R7OorXNI9oI/AAAAAAAAAAU/1-oaaRZvV-c/S220/497349509_f929349655_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4652527714810038783.post-6848357136000984590</id><published>2007-05-08T19:46:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-05-08T19:53:36.393-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Owen and Me</title><content type='html'>I always think that Owen can hear my thoughts and feelings.  He sits now waiting for me, looking forlorn that my hands type instead of pet.  Oh to live in the moment to be satisfied with that which is so simple.  Wet food, water, a soft place to lay our head if only  I could learn how to live in such a way.  Joy would be mine.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4652527714810038783-6848357136000984590?l=owenthecat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://owenthecat.blogspot.com/feeds/6848357136000984590/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4652527714810038783&amp;postID=6848357136000984590' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4652527714810038783/posts/default/6848357136000984590'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4652527714810038783/posts/default/6848357136000984590'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://owenthecat.blogspot.com/2007/05/owen-and-me.html' title='Owen and Me'/><author><name>Jennie Holmes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08879093916636152653</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='20' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_O_bMWPc51jc/R7OorXNI9oI/AAAAAAAAAAU/1-oaaRZvV-c/S220/497349509_f929349655_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4652527714810038783.post-5080717162434159144</id><published>2007-04-29T19:55:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2007-04-29T19:55:50.700-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Mrow.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4652527714810038783-5080717162434159144?l=owenthecat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://owenthecat.blogspot.com/feeds/5080717162434159144/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4652527714810038783&amp;postID=5080717162434159144' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4652527714810038783/posts/default/5080717162434159144'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4652527714810038783/posts/default/5080717162434159144'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://owenthecat.blogspot.com/2007/04/mrow.html' title=''/><author><name>Jennie Holmes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08879093916636152653</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='20' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_O_bMWPc51jc/R7OorXNI9oI/AAAAAAAAAAU/1-oaaRZvV-c/S220/497349509_f929349655_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
