We lost Tabitha this past week, and it was completely unexpected.  Sure, she had been lethargic for the past month, a little.  She hadn't been quite as excited about food.  She's just getting older, I thought.  I made an appointment with our vet, but felt a little silly doing so.  

I noticed her grumpiness, and started fretting about our early-April appointment.  Could she actually be ill?  I wondered.  Suddenly, she began crying out in pain and vomiting.  Panicked, we rushed her to the emergency vet in Indianapolis, where she died in my arms.  The vet wasn't sure what the problem had been.  Maybe fungal?  Bacterial? A partial blockage?  Cats hide their pain, she said.  It's often hard to know when they're feeling bad, until it's too late.

The grief that followed has been one of the most painful experiences in my life.  It's been only a year since we lost Bosewichte, but in that grief, I had Tabitha.  Suddenly, my little companion was gone.

The little face that napped next to my computer for 12 years, who pushed into my arms multiple times throughout the day and during the night...vanished.  That imperious and demanding little imp who would frustrate me with her fussiness and then charm me with her head butts and kneading paws...gone.  The silence is immense.  

I haven't slept through the night since we lost her.  I either graze distractedly all day, or forget to eat altogether.  Dazed, I have walked away from my work halfway through, completely forgetting that I hadn't finished.

I've lost entire days in a book, or to mindless television.  I completely forgot about my seedlings on the front porch, broken to bits on a windy day.  Dozing on the couch, I'd snap to wakefulness, sure that I'd just heard her meow.  I tearfully cut up "her" cat hair-covered cushion, sealing it in a Ziplock freezer bag for safekeeping.

It felt a little strange...indulgent?...to be so distraught over "just a cat."  Why was this grief so sharp, when I've been able to rally fairly quickly from other losses in my life?  At my core, I'm a logical and practical person.  Take some time, then get over it.  Move on.  Push it away and it will go away.  But this time, it's not so easy.  My brain tells me to get up, take a shower, do some work.  Clean the house...work in the garden...work in the back barn.  The intentionality is there, but I feel physically weak.  My brain is foggy.  My hands feel heavy.  Much easier to nap or watch another mind-numbing episode of Project Runway.

  

Somewhat bothered and a little ashamed by this depth of feeling, I started reading entries in online pet loss groups.  I was surprised - and comforted - to see that there were others who felt their losses just as much.  People cried and grieved over dogs, cats, birds, and many other animal companions.  Dogs who trotted cheerfully alongside on daily walks and cats who snuggled under covers at night, little friends who shared in the daily routines and dramas, unconditional lovers who comforted and understood.  Many people were still grieving months or even years later, remembering their special bonds.  Still sharing stories and encouragement to those whose grief was still raw.

Perusing these forums day after day, I started to meditate on the nature of grief.  From that meditation grew a sense of wonder.  How marvelous...how unexpected...how wonderful that these little creatures can have such a hold on our hearts.  How mysterious is the love that grows there.  How compelling that we can be brought so low by their loss...it's a testament to the depth and quality of our love for them.  It is mysterious. It destroys us, but it gives us hope of redemption, too.  Our love is so great that it cannot be extinguished by death.  Their spirits are too potent and powerfully alive to be snuffed out by the weakening of their physical bodies.  I am convinced, from my understanding of the character of God, that we will be together again.  Death and redemption is a powerful part of our faith.  

We're both suffering mightily, but we're already talking about expanding our household.  The fact that we're willing to go through this terrible pain over and over again is a testament to transformative power they have over our lives and our hearts.  We'll do it again, we'll hurt again, and we'll do it again.  It's worth it.  

Until we meet again, sweet girl!

Ephemeral Emeralds

Late March...some rain...a warm spell...I knew that ephemerals would be popping up!  Like the name suggests, ephemerals are woodland wildflowers that are here-and-gone.  In a brown landscape with not a lot of green growth, they are little gems scattered in the forest.  I love seeing their little faces every year!

Rue Anemone

Spring Beauties

Cutleaf Toothwort

Harbinger-of-Spring

Red Maples are budding out!

The woods are alive, finally!  This spring peeper is singing his heart out.

I've seen so many southern leopard frogs!

Turtles everywhere.  Todd, with his eagle eye, sounds a "turt alert" when he spots one from the trail.

Are these geese making a nest?

This freshwater snail is working his way through the debris on this submerged leaf.

Insects are stirring, too.  These water skippers are killing two birds with one stone, makin' babies and having a snack simultaneously.

A pair of predacious diving beetles, clasped in an embrace, dove for cover as I leaned in for a photo.

Interesting creatures.  They can't breathe underwater, so they bring air down with them, storing it within their bodies.  It has to be just the right amount.  Too much and they would be too buoyant, and not enough, they would drown.  They're called water tigers for their somewhat brutal hunting methods...floating limply in the water until prey (fish, tadpole, etc.) passes, and then, quick as lightning, biting.  They inject a digestive juice that partially liquifies their victims, making them easier to eat.  

I spotted another fascinating insect yesterday.  This is a violet oil beetle.  Not just a pretty face!

They're also known as blister beetles because they secrete a corrosive liquid from their joints if bothered, causing skin to blister.  Their life cycle is absolutely fascinating!  Any Creepshow 2 fans?

Young oil beetles have tiny grappling hooks on their legs, and after burrowing out of the ground, climb onto the nearest flower.  They wait for bees and hook onto their bodies, hitching a ride back to the hive.  There, they gorge on eggs and prepare for pupating.  They're so interesting...the Czech Republic even had a violet oil beetle stamp!

I love being out in the woods in spring, and so does Borga!  

After more than a decade of dragging us around, she's finally starting to slow down.  She's pretty tired after an hour, and she no longer leads the pack...she's content to trot behind Todd.  Sometimes she even lets me walk in front!  Hopefully this will be a very active spring for us, and she'll have lots of opportunities to stretch her legs.

Have a great week!  

Goldblum Boom

Although it will be 70 degrees here by Wednesday, it's been cold, and we recently had snow flurries.  Very light...just enough to fill up the spiderwebs that have started appearing in the garden.

The flakes were so light that they themselves were caught suspended in the debris, looking like a tiny snowstorm frozen in time.  

Even with a couple of deep-freeze days, I wasn't worried about our bulbs, and they're continuing to grow with no issues.  Inside, growth has been even better.  I have to pull out my old Jeff Goldblum meme...

...because despite my many mistakes, my ranuculus are doing just fine.  Last year, I left them in the field too long.  Then, after finally digging them up, I left them out to dry for FAR too long...weeks!...and in a freezing cold barn.  I finally brought them in, soaked them, but without much hope.  They were desiccated and gnarled, but I went ahead and stuck them in my cold, dark attic anyway.  Two weeks later...LIFE!!

Ditto with my sweet peas.  After a couple of weeks in the attic, they're up and looking great!  

My little indoor grow area is quite crowded now.

Soon it will be warm enough to move out to my barn potting area!

I'm seeing so much more activity outside now, too.  Every day, herons stalk the bank of our front pond, looking for (and catching!) small fish and frogs.

A group of turkey vultures played a game of tag on a nearby hill.

After a mini-hibernation in February, the muskrats are bustling about, repairing their eroded roof.

I, too, have been gathering materials.  As my physical therapy draws to a close, I'm starting to dabble in quilting again.  I cut my Tilda fabric, layered with Kona Cotton Snow, into 1 3/4" strips.

The next step is sewing these colored strips into rows, alternating with white...

...and then cross-cutting these strips into 1 3/4" sections.

These will be mixed up in a random assortment (more random than this!) and sewn into blocks...

...and then the blocks will be joined and make up the final quilt top, like this one from Red Pepper Quilts.

This method is SO much quicker and easier than sewing each tiny square together.  In just a few minutes, I have a finished block!

I love the scrappiness of of the Red Pepper quilt, and I've worried that there's not enough color variety in my Tilda fabric...but I've got plenty of scrappy quilts, and I love the cohesiveness of this color line.  We'll see how it goes!  

I'll continue to work on this as the season progresses and time allows.  It's going to be very busy here soon between work and the growing season duties.  In just one month, the garden will be fully awake!  I like to look to past years for clues...

photo from mid-April 2019

photo from mid-April 2020

photo from mid-April 2021

I can't wait.  Have a great week!