Sunday, January 24, 2010, 05:49
An Oh-Oh Moment
There I was Saturday evening, minding my own business, running the lambs wool duster around the living room, when my little black kitty cat, Dora, decided she should help me.
Dusting is bittersweet. In the old days, before my older cats died, my tabby Sebastian used to come around with me to every room when I was dusting, fascinated with that swishing thing that went up and down and around. Sebastian died December 4, 2008, and I have not felt much like dusting since then. The activity has been sporadic, at best.
But then on Saturday, Dora decided she wanted to help.
Her first step in helping was to jump up on top of the television. From there she jumped up to the shelf where my baby grandfather clock reposes. I love the tick-tock of the clock. It's such a soothing sound. And I like the chimes, too, to remind me of what time it is.
Dora perched on the clock shelf for a bit, and when I moved over, so did she.
I was dusting a shelf that Randy made out of wood and on which we have put the stainless steel votive candle holders he made for me one year for Christmas out of old stainless milkhouse pipe. Isn't that just the cat's meow? Votive candle holders out of milkhouse pipe.
I was not, however, expecting Dora to climb on the shelf with the candle holders. I turned my attention away for a moment as I kept dusting, and when I looked up, Dora was on the shelf.
"Dora, you shouldn't be up there!" I said.
I set the duster down and was reaching for Dora when it happened.
The shelf collapsed and fell to the floor.
Well, not quite to the floor. To the long narrow diamond plate box on the floor where I keep my book inventory.
Do you know how much noise stainless steel and wood make when they fall and land on diamond plate?
The look on Dora's face was priceless. In the split second after the shelf started to collapse, Dora had an "Oh-oh" expression on her face.
As the shelf and votive candle holders struck my book box, Dora was long gone. She launched herself forward and was halfway across the room in one leap.
Clang! Crash! Bang! Tinkle! Crash! Bang! Boom! Tinkle! Crash!
The sound reverberated in the air and then died away to dead silence.
"What was that?" my husband asked from the kitchen. He had his laptop open and had been engrossed in his computer.
I didn't answer right away. I was too busy holding my sides and wiping the tears out of my eyes.
"What was that?" Randy repeated as he rushed into the room.
I pointed to the scene of the disaster.
Randy dashed across the room and began to inspect his shelf, the candle holders and the book box.
"Dora?" I said, as I wiped my eyes again. "Dora, sweetheart. Are you all right?"
I was pretty sure the cat was all right -- that she had jumped clear before anything had fallen on her. But you can never be too sure about these things.
My husband began to splutter.
"Dora? I almost kill myself getting in here? I just about tripped myself up on the rug? I almost had a heart attack? And you're worried about the cat?"
"Yes," I said.
I went to find Dora. By the time I got to the hallway, she was slowly creeping toward the living room, not quite sure what horrible thing had occurred but quite sure that it had been noisy and caution was called for.
Her tail was only a little fluffed.
When she was sure that nothing was going to jump out and get her, she returned to her normal self and went over to see if she could help Randy hang the shelf up.
I'm glad I've got dusting help. Really, I am. I 'm just not quite sure it needed to start out with such a bang. . .
LeAnn R. Ralph
Wednesday, January 20, 2010, 13:47
Tales From Long Ago
For the past year, I have been working on transcribing the diary of a woman who passed away some time ago. She kept diaries for many years, beginning in 1921 when she was just a girl herself, really, teaching school in North Dakota. Her family asked me if I could do something with the diaries -- to try to put them into a book form of some sort.
The work is slow, but I keep pecking away at it. For one thing, I did not know it was possible for a human being to write that small! For another thing, I have to try to save time for doing it in between the newspaper work and my other writing projects.
But the work is absolutely fascinating. It is a window into another time. The diaries have some gaps in them in terms of years. I have done the 1921 diary. Her family recently found some others from that era and afterward. But then the diaries skip up to late 1960s and 1970s. Did she write diaries in between but they have been lost somehow? Or did she decide, as she grew older and her children grew up and left home, that she should try writing a diary again?
Years ago, when she was a resident at the local nursing home, I did interview the woman. She had some wonderful stories to tell and was a good storyteller. Little did I know then that through serendipity I would be asked to work with her diaries. It really helps for me to have met her because I can put a face and the sound of a voice with those tiny words written in a small space.
For those of you who don't keep diaries, maybe you should consider it. You don't have to write long entries. And they don't have to be elaborate or even written in complete sentences. But someday someone in your family -- or many someones -- will consider your written words to be a precious gift.
LeAnn R. Ralph