Normally I am in in-focus kind of gal. When I take photos I hate things not to be in focus. I am trying to break out of that habit and try some creative things. While in Mexico on our Chichen Itza tour, we were entertained at lunch by dancers balancing trays of glasses and bottles on their heads. I purposely blurred the images, hoping to evoke the feeling of movement. These are the results. I don’t know whether they worked or not. I kind of like them but Rick isn’t sure. What do you think: are they just blurry images to you or do you find them interesting?

Watch the video now. I love how the tray keeps going around on his head once he has stopped.

You don’t mind if we go back and visit Mexico again, do you? I still have things to share with you.

After we left our all-inclusive luxury resort we headed down the Mayan Riviera to Tulum. Our destination was an eco-friendly cabana-style hotel: La Zebra. We were supposed to leave early afternoon and arrive before dark, but it didn’t work out that way. We found ourselves driving in very unfamiliar territory in the dark. After a harrowing drive down a pothole-filled road, passing hotel after hotel without any lighted signs, the brightly-lit neon sign of La Zebra was a welcome sight. It wasn’t obvious where to check in, but we followed a sandy path illuminated only by candle sconces and eventually figured it out. We were soon settled in our little cabana: Number 6.

A short while after settling in our stomachs told us it was time to eat, so we walked the sand path to the cantina-style restaurant on the hotel grounds. The open-air room was already bustling with people. We soon realized that they drew many people from nearby hotels that did not have eateries on their grounds. And after we had finished a delicious meal we knew why! What could be more relaxing that enjoying an authentic Mexican repast with the music of the waves crashing against the beach in the background?  Here is what it looked like in daylight.

Since we arrived in the dark we really had no idea what our cabana looked like on the outside. We couldn’t tell much from the dim light emitted by the sconces that lit the pathways, and our room key with a small flashlight attached didn’t help overly much either. Ours was one of nine little cabanas tucked into the palms in a row (the bright blue one). I liked how ours had a palm tree growing through the thatch on the porch.

Inside it was a work of art; from paintings on the walls to the beautiful stone work in the bathroom. Take a look.

There were other works of art scattered all around the grounds. Lovely carved ladies held lanterns and posed by menu boards.

Carved wooden heads rested in the soft sand.

Sand was everywhere. On our porch there was a foot bath for rinsing off our feet before entering the cabana, allowing us to track in as little sand as possible. We quickly “went native” and abandoned any thoughts of wearing shoes again while on the hotel grounds and simply went barefoot—everywhere. Even in the cantina. Everyone else did. When we left my feet rebelled against putting on shoes again after being so liberated.

Paradise did have a few downfalls. Being “eco-friendly” meant our hotel had a limited supply of electricity. No hair dryers were allowed. We did have 24-hour electric which is rare on this stretch of beach since they have to generate what they use. Sitting in the cantina you could hook up with wireless internet service. The big downfall was the toilet paper. You were not allowed to put any paper whatsoever in the toilets because of their septic tank system. This is not fun! Each cabana had their own hot water system fueled by a small propane tank. Wouldn’t you know that when we got up on Monday to take our showers before leaving for the airport our propane bottle was empty. No hot water = no shower. In such a sand-filled environment we had to leave feeling gritty and sticky. No one was up at that hour of the morning to help us.

Unfortunately our time at La Zebra was very short. Arriving on Saturday evening, we only had Sunday for enjoying and exploring before we had to head back early in the morning on Monday to catch our flight. Originally we were to spend several days there, but due to conflicting business meetings for Rick it just didn’t work out. So, with such a short amount of time we had to choose between just relaxing on the beach or exploring the Mayan ruins at Tulum, which are the only ruins situated on the Caribbean Sea.

Since the weather was iffy and overcast, we chose to see the ruins in the morning and come back and relax around La Zebra in the afternoon. In my next post I will share photos of the ruins, but for now I will include some beach shots taken that afternoon around the hotel.

I wish we could have spent an entire day relaxing around the beach and the hotel. The food was absolutely wonderful. One dish, a fish soup, was prepared table-side by tossing a very hot rock into a large bowl and letting the heat from the rock cook the soup.

We agreed that next time we would do the hotels the other way around. First the rather primitive environment of a hotel like La Zebra, followed by the pampering luxury of a hotel like Dreams Cancun. All in all, Cancun and the Mayan Riviera are places I could return to over and over again.

You might think eBay is a funny name for a cat and I guess I’d have to agree with you. Unless, of course, you know how she came by her name which I am about to tell you. So sit back and I’ll tell you a tale (or is that tail?) of a kitten that was meant to be ours.

We were into buying older Jane Wooster Scott corkboard puzzles on eBay when I came across a puzzle for sale that showed two calico cats in the photo along with the puzzle. They were the same kind of calico (mostly white with a “cape” on their backs) that was like my cat Patches that I had lost many years ago. I have always wanted another one marked the same way, so I wrote to the woman selling the puzzle and asked if she had the mother of the cats. I figured it was a long shot, but it wouldn’t hurt to try.

She wrote back saying that no, she did not have the mother but got them as kittens from a farm near where she lived. After a few email conversations went on back and forth with her I learned that while she lived in Iowa her son lived in Denver, a mere 50 miles away from me. (Remember we were living in Colorado then.)  She offered to go by the farm next time she was down that way and see if they had any calicos. Within a few days she emailed me to tell me that the farm did indeed have a few calicos. All the cats were feral and most of them giving birth in the chicken coops and living in not the best of conditions.

She sent photos of an older kitten (maybe about six months) and one that looked to be about four weeks old. We had reservations about taking a cat that had been feral for six months and trying to adapt it to our six-dog-two-cat-household. The kitten seemed a better bet. She then proceeded to tell me that she was driving out to visit her son within a few weeks and offered to bring the kitten to us! We figured the kitten would be old enough by then to leave its mother, so we chose the 4-week-old-ish kitten over the older one.

The day finally arrived and Debi called from Denver to say that they were on their way to our house. When she arrived I rushed out the door to meet my new little kitten. Debi held her out to me and my eyes could not believe what I saw. Whoa ... wait just a minute— this tiny “rat” without any hair and looking more like Yoda than a kitten could not be the beautiful kitten I had been expecting! It was the ugliest thing I had ever seen. Ever. We all went inside and Debi started to explain ...

Her husband had gone to the farm to pick up the kitten because Debi couldn’t go. What he (or Debi) didn’t realize is that there were several calico kittens, and he picked the first one he came to. Scooped her right out of the chicken coop she was born in. Only thing was, this particular kitten was probably only about 3 weeks old. She could not even potty herself yet and Debi and her friend had had to stimulate her by wiping her bottom with a wet rag the entire trip from Iowa to Colorado. She was as helpless as ... well, a newborn kitten! I tried not to show my disappointment in not getting a cute, furry, cuddly kitten instead of a rat but it was hard not to.

She was so tiny that I was afraid to let the dogs near her, so I put her in our bedroom in a cozy nest of blankets and closed the door. I checked on her from time to time and she was in a different spot in the room each time. She was having no trouble exploring her new environment. It was obvious that although she was tiny, she was a scrappy little thing!

When Rick got home he couldn’t quite believe it either. She was so ugly that she was kind of cute. She basically had no hair whatsoever, a little pot belly, four scrawny legs, and huge bat ears. We decided to introduce the dogs to her carefully and held her while the dogs inspected her. At first sniff one of our female Bernese, Margaux, jumped up on the bed with us and would not let any of the other dogs come close. She gave out a low growl and the others backed off. She was guarding that kitten like it was one of her own puppies!

Once in the room by herself with the kitten, Margaux took over as her mother. She pottied her and licked her until the poor thing was soaking wet. One swipe of her tongue lifted the kitten off her feet. She rolled over and made her nipples accessible so the kitten could nurse. Poor Margaux, she didn’t have any milk, but having had a litter of pups the year before was no stranger to knowing what to do. Even though the kitten was not getting any nourishment from this activity, it was providing her warmth and succor. (Not to mention the more obvious plus: getting pottied!) It became a ritual that throughout the day I would put them together for monitored bonding time.

eBay climbed all over Margaux and snuggled into her long fur. Here you can see her on Margaux’s back and standing to “nurse.”

Our other female, Mira, was not to be left out of this whole mothering scenario. She had been very jealous when Margaux got to have puppies and she wasn’t going to miss this chance to do her part. While Margaux had failed in the milk department, Mira managed to bring in milk for the kitten. I kid you not. Here they are caught in a nursing moment. Mira kept nursing eBay long after it was necessary. I think it brought them both a great deal of comfort.

Of course, this was not enough to sustain eBay. We fed her formula through a small syringe (bottle feeding did not work),  even getting up in the middle of the night when she woke mewing for food. We kept her in an small airline kennel by the bed so she was safe from being stepped on. I still have fond memories of her waking me up at the crack of dawn, mewing at the top of her tiny kitten lungs and clinging to the door of the kennel.

She began to flourish under the care and attention of our upside-down household. She started to look like a kitten—finally.

She accepted the dogs as she would another of her own feline contingent. Here she is with Sailor, who at the time was only about 7 months old himself.

When I was still feeding her formula via a syringe, it was very messy. She ended up with formula smeared all over her face. The area between her mouth and nose seemed to never come clean. It always looked like I’d missed a spot in cleaning her up. I scrubbed and scrubbed. It still looked dirty. eBay, why didn’t you tell me that the reason it looked dirty was because it was part of your funny pigmentation? Today you can see what I call her “marmalade spots” quite clearly.

She grew into a beautiful, intelligent cat. Here are some candids of her over the years.

She has cute dots on the back of her head. To me it looks like somebody got careless with a paint brush or they couldn’t decide what color she should be.

And, one big black target on her belly and also black splotches on the backs of her legs. Cute, eh?

So now you know the origin of her rather odd name. That’s our eBay and we love her dearly. Just think: if not for an auction on eBay and the kindness of a total “stranger” (thank you Debi!) we would not have her today. She is very special, and after reading her story you can’t help but agree that she was meant to come and live with us from the very beginning.

This beautiful amaryllis has given me great joy. It was given to me for my birthday back in December by my neighbor, Aileen. It is now on its third and final flowering stalk. It saved its best show for last: six huge blossoms! It graces my kitchen window and drinks in the southerly sun. Outside my window the no-longer-winter-not-quite-spring landscape is drab and colorless. When I took it outside on my deck yesterday to snap these photos, it injected my brown outside world with a jolt of color.

This is the first amaryllis that I’ve ever had, but it certainly won’t be my last. Next year I vow to pot at least two different varieties. So lovely. It asked nothing of me except for sun and water and gave everything it had back.

Spring is coming, I know. There is a change in the air. It smells different; feels different on my skin. I saw my first robin this past weekend, and the little fox sparrow that scratches around like a tiny chicken has shown up at my feeder for the first time this year. 

Soon our trees will leaf out, and the world outside my window will be a sea of green. I long to open my windows wide and let the beautiful song of the wood thrush fill this house once again.

Poking around in my flower beds the other day I came across proof that the earth is starting to stir again. More gifts that keep giving. Soon ... soon, spring will come.

The sun is out so strongly this morning. The shadows it’s casting are so intense, so black, you would swear someone had been spray painting on my lawn and driveway. A week ago it was still mostly covered with snow. We had such drenching rain yesterday along with warmer temperatures that it all washed away.

I think Winter is slowly losing whatever grip it had. It never did have a very firm hold this year, always vacillating back and forth. Snow. Rain. Snow. Rain. Warm. Cold. Warm. Cold. If it’s not going to really be winter it might as well be spring. This side of winter is always so drab and dull. Normally I am a winter person but I find myself longing for sweet bird song (which has already begun), lush green grass, and the warm sun on my face.

We turn our clocks forward this weekend, so maybe that will put a jump start on the new season. I’m ready. I am tired of standing in the shadow of winter. Bring it on!