Finally!

Finally! And for a couple of reasons.

First, I’m back on the blog. No promises, but here I am today after a hectic six or so weeks since my last visit.

Second, maybe more important, the gentling Ginger gender mystery is resolved. No more gender guessing. No more Thomas or Thelma?

Thursday, we managed to coerce, force, drug her/him into a cat carrier and make the long overdue visit to the vet for a check-up, shots and the final answer. But no, at least, not at once. “Well?” I demanded. My vet friend looked chagrined. He couldn't tell either. Ginger wasn’t being gentle. He/she was not going into this examination routine without a bit of help from some anesthesia.

Later in the day, after some medical adventures of my own, I called the vet for the results.

Why was it so hard to determine? The vet’s best guess is that Ginger had been caught in a feral cat round-up, neutered, and set free. The ear notch is most likely a mark declaring “Don’t round me up again, you’ve had me once!”

Ginger isn’t completely gentled yet, but feral is no longer an appropirate description.

Please welcome, finally. . .Thomas Jefferson Pando!

Gentling Ginger VII First Cat

The first cat is getting a bit fed up with all this Ginger gentling and has asked, firmly asked that I speak on her behalf.

Dolley Mae Madison Pando declares that she was here first and that makes her definitely First Cat. Besides her indecisive owners can't even decide if Ginger is Thomas or Thelma. People!

[Editor's note: Dolley M. is mostly right. She was first cat in the house, but Ginger was hunkering under the azaleas when she arrived. (See Gentling Ginger I.) That was before the editor had a change of heart.]

Dolley M. continues that not only has she been working hard as First Cat, she keeps the editor's head warm at night by stretching out across her hair. She has also spent long hours serving as Bob's muse as he finishes his disseratation. (See entries for March 3, 2006 and February 26, 2008.) She adds that he is defending this afternoon, and while she is unable to attend she'll be sending good thoughts and hope you will as well.

Meanwhile, she finds this entire Ginger thing rather boring.

White Iris

Spring is beautiful all over. I can't leave my house here in Bainbridge without slinging a camera over my shoulder. It's not just my garden (call it a jungle!) that's over the top. It's the whole town. I'll share some of this glory in the next few days.

One of my favorite stops is my neighbor around a corner and down the street. I exclaimed so much that's she's told me to prowl around and take all the pictures I want. That's great, 'cause she's one of the town's premier gardeners.

On my last foray, I captured some of her breath taking white iris. It made me thing of my mother and grandmother's gardens. How they treasured the iris. They bloomed later--deep into April or early May. The wait made them all the more welcome.

When I returned home and checked a few of my favorite blogs--no surprise! I'm not the only one who loves white iris. Share some Texas hill country beauties from Susan Albert's Lifescapes. If you haven't been there, plan to spend a little time (or more). She take you on a tour of her home, and then let you join her own blogtour. She's at http://susanalbert.typepad.com/

Gentling Ginger VI Thomas or Thelma?

Oh dear. Here we've been married almost 50 years and have three children. You'd think one of us could figure out if a cat is a boy or a girl, but. . .Our initial diagnosis (guess) about Ginger is back in question. He/she's coming in the house now--Dolley M. puts up with it--and allows petting, but no, absolutely no, picking up or cuddling which make the exam difficult. And so next week it'll be off to the vet for the verdict. Whatever the outcome, we'll do the socially responsible thing.

Meanwhile, is it Thomas Jefferson or Thelma Ryan? Here she/he enjoys a little time in the house.

Busy days, blazing spring

The Georgia State Flower, the Cherokee Rose, flourishes on the ancient fence in front of our house. There's a lovely legend about the rose--I'll tell it soon. Maybe too, I'll tell the story of a neighbor who took it upon himself to take down our almost eighty-year-old fence. I taught him what "it's my fence" means!

I've been busy. We've been busy. Bob's almost through! Let me catch up. Following an involuntary retirement, Bob decided to fulfill one of his forever dreams and go to graduate school. (Fatherhood at 20 had precluded it almost 50 years ago.) Once he got started, he couldn't stop. After he got an MA at Florida State, the history department asked him to stay. See the March 3, 2006 entry for some background (how can it have been 2 years?). He turned in his dissertation last Monday. Now he's doing all the finishing touches before he defends next Monday. I've been helper doing all the things that are legitimate for the nonauthor to do. (My rule of thumb--if he could have paid someone to do it, then I will.) I've proofread 'til my eyes swim, checked footnotes and taught myself to do tables on the computer, while he's done the heavy thinking, writing, and editing. Neither one of us has thought or talked about much else.

With all my good intentions, the blog has suffered.

So here I am in my third March blogging, and I can't help myself. It's too beautiful. So one more time share a blazing Bainbridge spring! Dogwoods float around the cypress (our Christmas tree about 20 years ago). Azaleas planted in 1933 thrive on the side of the house. It's a good time to be here!

Maybe more on Ginger tomorrow. There's a serious question. She may not be Thelma.

Gentling Ginger V It's a girl!

Bob's been in much closer communication with Ginger, and we can now say with confidence--Miss Ginger. Maybe considering her beat-up appearance we should say Ms. Ginger.

Now a new dilemma--an official name? For reasons, or nonreasons, I'll go into later, we use presidential and first lady names for our pets. We've had Eleanor and Frankie D. (Also Miss Lucy Mercer--but, again, a story for another day). The current ruling feline is Dolley Madison Pando--sometimes known as Dolley Mae. A fella cat was going to be easy--Thomas Jefferson, but a chick cat?

We have two choices--going for the nickname, we can dub her Elizabeth Virginia Truman, or going for the red-headed angle, there's Thelma Catherine Ryan Nixon. (She named herself Patricia when she started college.) I'm leaning toward Thelma Ryan (Ginger) Pando. She quiet, a bit aloof, and from the looks of her left ear, able to endure adversity. Seems like a natural. Besides, do you think that there's ever been a cat named after our 34th first lady?

Here's Thelma. I'll try to get a close-up of that right ear.

Gentling Ginger IV More Contact!

We did it! Rather Bob did it. While I was out roaming Texas, hanging out with friends, generally having a good time, he was back here in Georgia bringing out food three or four times a day and crooning, "Here, Gingie, Gingie, Gingi."

I'm not the only one to be wowed by his sweet words. Ginger is now definitely his cat. I don't speak kitty very well, but I can translate the plaintive meow I hear when I try to be the bearer of good food. "Where's my fellow? He's the one who feeds me."

Ginger has (except for some of our recent rainy days) abandoned under the house and taken up permanent residence on the kitchen porch. Bob made a bed from the rug that used to live in front of the sink.