This is Sam the Cat. He used to own our deck. I used to think that he was a stray cat, but it turned out that he actually belonged to one of our neighbours.

I thought he was a stray cat because he always had fleas. I adopted him as an outside cat and used to feed him everyday. I even took him to the vet and got him treated for fleas and ear mites.

This picture turned out funny. He looks diabolic. And, where is his left front paw?

Mr. Mundy, you asked me a question today: Why do nice guys finish last? Here is my answer: Because the history of any species is that females are attracted to alpha males. Most times, he is the alpha male in the group of like (cut to a scenario at our favourite place). Alpha males also tend to be selfish (and therefore insecure) thus demanding a variety of attention (often from more than one source) to satiate egos and other voids. When two males compete for anything—center of conversation, women, being virile, or whatever—I call it the testosterone syndrome (but I don’t think that’s an official term).

The challenge for one person is finding another person who is alpha-esk in the three pillars of life: personal, professional, spiritual. However, if they-themselves-are not balanced in the three pillars, they tend to be attracted other people who offset the balance.

One problem with an unbalanced alpha is that they usually end up being monkeys (see the entry on monkey butter below). The problem with being attracted to an unbalanced alpha, is that you end up being the butter. In both cases, hopefully, it’s not for an extended period of time.

Most people just need to find the balance if they don’t want to finish last. It’s not about whether they are nice or not. It’s about whether they are balanced and secure with their situation. They need to find the balance in their personal (health, lifestyle, family), professional (career, community), and spiritual (of sane mind and attitude).

Me?? I’m working on being balanced and not being the monkey or the butter.

I spent most of 1991 and 1992 in France. For the first bit, I was a nanny. This is Florence. She was a handful. I was 18 and didn’t have the skills to take care of a precocious three-year-old in my own language, let alone another language.

One day, Florence and I were disagreeing. She got so mad at me that she grabbed a stool from the kitchen, stood up on it, looked me straight in the eye, and said (very determinedly): “Tu est une salope, tu sais?” That stopped me in my tracks because I didn’t know what the word “salope” meant. She wouldn’t tell me.

It turned out she had quite a good vocabulary for a three-year-old. You can look up what she called me on Babelfish.

Yesterday, I think I was challenged to put something personal on my blogg. The first thing that came to mind was this poem. I wrote this poem for my husband last Valentine’s Day.

So. There you have it. When I wrote it, I believed it didn’t take much. I now have another opinion.

There is a duck hatching her ducklings in our corporate parking lot!!! My friend and colleague, Joan Robins, has been tracking (and protecting) her progress for about three weeks now. How exciting. New babies!!!!

I almost went for a bike ride to start training for a longer distances, but, alas, I forgot my shoes. I will have to remember my shoes before I can train.

Here is an interesting topic of conversation: Blundstone, size 10. These are the shoes that the actor in the short movie Mistress wears. I don’t know for how long he has been wearing them, but I thought it was interesting bit of information at the time.

Last night, I went skating at the Snoopy Area. My friend Waitman was supposed to come too, but he called and said he had a family emergency. I’m worried now becasue I haven’t been able to talk to him since. I did, however, leave the eggs in the cooler on his deck.

I wish Waitman had come. It was so fun. It is good to have innocent fun when you can. I’m not a good skater, but hey, I’m Canadian. I’ve been on skates before. I am going to go again next week and practice cross-over backwards until I’m confident. Everybody there was having fun and very helpful. It is a good change for me.

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Here is a link to one of my favourite poems: IF, by Ruyard Kipling.