And So IT begins...

It has been suggested that I start a blog. However, for so long the thought of it has filled me with anxiety. What if so and so reads this? What if I say something really stupid, which I am famous for, and it gets me in heaps of trouble? What if I bore myself to death because I don't really have anything to say?
Lots of What-ifs, but I can try it out and see how I feel about it and then I can decide if I wanna tell anyone I know I am finally giving into what is decidedly a very self-centered act. While I am quite self absorbed, I often am not comfortable with being so self-centered as it is significantly louder, and I have become a bit more tempered as I hit my 40's.

So for what it is worth, here I am. I'm in my 40's, as I've mentioned, I share a very tiny apt. in the middle of nowhere with 4 not-so-feral-anymore cats that were dumped on me by their mother before she split town, for apparently the great catnip pasture in the sky the poor dear. I'd tried for so long not to be the 'crazy cat lady' and only had one cat, more of a significant other, often called Sim for short. Sim and I moved into this little tiny spec of an apt on some wet lands after my relationship hit the rocks. I figured it would be a wonderful place to meditate and soak up nature, listen to the birds and lick my wounds of a 'he just ain't that into you' that went on two years longer than the four + years it was in existence- we tend to beat dead horses in my family. Soon a calico feral cat came around talking her head off and asking for a bite to eat here and there explaining that she'd got herself in the 'family way' and was all on her own and just beside herself over it all. Sim and I felt a little sorry for her so we didn't chase her off like we should have and soon she got so round it was a wonder she didn't stagger from the weight shifting! And after she'd suckered us in, she gave birth to 6 kittens. As life is hard and damned unfair, 3 years later there are now 5 cats living of the original 6 and both Maa Preggers (the hussy mother of the brood) and Sim have both passed away - Sim from kidney failure at 18 years of age. Now for roommates I have Kagome', Fleur, Pumpkin and Fuzzbutt; they are beautiful healthy sweet rag doll type cats who are weary of my intentions at times and dumber than a box of rocks! Sim was remarkably intelligent and compared to the Plume-tail Gang, as I refer to them as, a rocket scientist compared to a bunch of sugar amped 3 year olds. Yet, I've grown used to them and they me and each night we get in bed and they hunker up next to me, turn over on their backs and demand tummy rubs. There is no logic here.

So, this is a little bit about me a crazy cat lady of the wetlands.