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About This Author
My name is Joy, and I love to write.
Why poetry, here? Because poetry uplifts its writer, and if she is lucky enough, her readers, too. Around us, so many objects abound to write about. Once a poet starts with a smallest, most trivial object, he shall discover that his pen will spill out what is most delicate or most majestic hidden inside him. Since the classics sometimes dealt with lofty subjects with a lofty language, a person with poetry in his soul may incline to emulate that. That is understandable. Poetry does that to a person: it enlarges the soul and gives it wings. Yet, to really soar, a poet needs to take off from the ground.
 
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Everyday Canvas
"Failure is unimportant. It takes courage to make a fool of yourself."
CHARLIE CHAPLIN
Sometimes it takes darkness and the sweet
confinement of your aloneness
to learn
anything or anyone
that does not bring you alive
is too small for you.
David Whyte
This is my supplementary blog in which I will post entries written for prompts.
October 30, 2016 at 6:09pm October 30, 2016 at 6:09pm
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Do you currently or have you ever owned a cat? Tell us a fun cat story. If you've never lived with a cat, tell us about another pet...and if you've never had a pet, what would be one of the first fun things you'd do with your pet if you ever did adopt one?
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I had several cats ever since I was born up to the time before I was married. I say ‘ever since I was born’ because of my aunt who lived with us until she was married and who was cat-crazy like me.
All my companion cats were tabbies, except for a gray one. When I was in the tenth grade, one of them, a mischievous kitten named Tabs, got into my grandmother’s crochet basket. My grandmother was very much into crocheting lace at the time and the lace she crocheted had to be done with very fine thread. Well, Tabs must have lost himself in a tangle during his play with the rolls of thread, until my aunt found him. She brought him into the living room in that very basket. The kitten was covered and wrapped with thread. He was trying to free himself and was meowing in desperation. I had a difficult time getting him out of that mess and finally succeeded by cutting off all that thread.
Of course, I had to buy new balls of thread for my grandmother to make up for the kitten’s antics, too. After that, whenever Tabs saw my grandmother with her basket, he would meow as if he were to be bound all over again and he’d run away to hide or he’d jump up my lap and bury his head in my skirt.
Nowadays, since our traveling days are over and I am home so often, I miss having a cat or a dog but especially a cat because they are easier to take care of and to carry around if one wants to. A dog needs his walks every day and we don’t have a fenced yard. All the yards in my area have open borders, courtesy of our neighborhood association.
My husband isn’t into pets. In fact, he doesn’t want any around, although when our boys were four and seven, we adopted a Newfoundland mix, Joe, who lived up to the young age of seventeen. Hubby also likes my son and daughter-in-law’s Lab Mix, Coco, too, but that’s as far as he can stand any domesticated animal.
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