Tandaan

Something’s drained my creative battery.

Was it the Easter family visit? The dim weather? The messy house? The stress of a looming deadline for my new freelance project? I’m not sure, but it feels like I need to do 1000 things at once, which only leads to me playing Cyberpunk 2077 instead of doing anything at all.

That said, Easter was fun! Spending time with family is such a grounding thing. It makes me appreciate them deeply, and also reminds me how much I value my own space.

One of the family dogs is very old, and we’d had her since I was a teenager! So old that we all call her “lola“, meaning grandma in tagalog. I make sure to make way for her, help her if she acts lost or confused, scratch her ears and kiss her forehead, like you would any grandma!

While looking back at old childhood photos, and I couldn’t help but notice how often I was making a face, and my sister was just grinning. Maybe I didn’t have the brain capacity to understand wtf was going on? Or was I just overstimulated all the time?

My brother comparing my toddler self [thats me in the blue shorts] in this photo to the 1000-yard-stare, which I’m not sure how to take.

My boyfriend often points out that I get overwhelmed easily these days too. As proof, he caught me pulling an honest face while watching a video I clearly disliked, judging a man’s voice and editing choices as he enthusiastically explained the “ultimate way to use AI.”

One of my favourite parts of being at my parents’ place is helping feed the chickens. They’ve got a flock of hens and three roosters. A couple of months ago, there were only two: one white, one black. The white one, named Mister Anderson, used to be the boss, but clearly something went down, because the next time I visited, he’d lost his top rank and I found out he’d also lost his eye. Now he keeps to the outskirts of the yard, staying back when the hens get fed. I know he wasn’t the nicest rooster [he was definitely a bit of a jerk when claiming the hens], but that doesn’t mean he shouldn’t eat too. So I always scoop an extra handful of feed just for him, find where he’s hiding, and make sure he sees where I throw it.

Maybe I should reframe the situation. Maybe he’s not just a beaten-down outcast. Maybe he’s actually a really cool guy. A vagabond. A calloused wanderer of the coop.

Now, onto Bonnie.

Some cats, usually the ones adopted as pampered kittens, make their inconveniences loud and known. They’ll meow at the fork beside their bed. They’ll protest the wrong biscuit texture. They’ll completely ignore you if you ask them to move. But Bonnie isn’t like that. We adopted her from the pound when she was a few months old, and she’s got a quiet resilience. She’s skittish at times, but cuddly when she chooses to be, and always open to belly pats if you happen to catch her.

Bonnie doesn’t complain, and has been keeping her pain to herself.
She’s had a slight limp that comes and goes. We assumed it wasn’t serious since she regularly prowls around the neighbourhood, protecting the house. I only realised this big sleep in wasn’t normal when she hissed as I kissed her shoulder! And she isn’t at all mean like that 🙁

She’s okay now though. I know because I watched her non-stop sleep for 12 hours, on the same spot on the couch, slowly nibbling the breakfast biscuits I’d place next to her throughout the day. I’m happy to report she’s back to her usual brazen self, and I’ll be looking at joint supplements for old cats!