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Tag: music

Playing our song

[Video link to 4th Mvmt in bio. I like this particular video because the conductor speaks to me and they include captions on the words of the poem, “Ode to Joy”]. Music is a faith that lives and moves us. Sometimes listening to certain pieces at the right time, I can know love breathing inside… Read More Playing our song

September 2, 2019 Amy PallesonLeave a comment

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Pet sitter Instagram

Video sent yesterday from Mr. Cat’s human who is in Nairobi for a month. Picture is hers from three days ago. She’s keeping me updated on her 2.5 month trip which is part creative journey for her (as she’s a bookmaker, learning more of her craft in Switzerland before heading to Kenya) and part accompanying her scientist husband who is doing field research. She said they are staying in a hotel in Nairobi that is a lush oasis where cats roam inside the large gardens and is protected by tight security including bars on the windows because of a terrorist attack in January. ALSO: I forgot I was on Twitter. Yes; my forgetting is sometimes pro-level. I don’t have time to post to Twitter and also to Instagram (the posts on Twitter were auto-posted by the helpful and non/forgetful “machine”) but might begin making an effort, as privacy CAN be controlled on Twitter and I do not quite know what is going to happen with IG.

May we live today to honor the cat whose selflessness is so pervasive they live every single day to remind us of it. 🌿 [Couple things, one relevant to most people here and one certainly not: 1) I am completely full for Thanksgiving and Christmas. I have unfortunately had to turn quite a few people away and I am so sorry about that. If you need those dates, I’ve been sending people to rover.com. There really are good people on there—I know three personally—but please don’t wait to look for someone. If you have contacted me and/or we have talked about you needing those dates, I already have you down. 2) I’ve deleted my Facebooks; I deleted my old one yesterday morning after downloading my data—which was cool because if you go to “your posts”, you can scroll down and see everything you’ve written in one paragraph after another, seamless, along with most of the pictures— and downloaded the data and deleted my second one today. I had two Facebooks because my initial one started in 2012 and went until 2017 and an account hack revealed certain disturbing clarities so I started a second one with a much smaller friends list. Deleting was the healthiest choice for me. If we were friends there: Thank you for showing up and treating me decent. Henceforth, my creative juices will be towards pictures and captions, and solid/real pieces of writing posted to somewhere as yet pending. Related FYI: My Instagrams are @aimless1001 (now private—and justifiably so; my irreverence is not for everyone—which is why I’m posting this on a public account) and of course, @amythesitter, my Flickr is “Amy Palleson”, my pet sitter website is www.amythecrittersitter.com, my blog is www.amypal.com, my phone number is 801-580-5320, and finally my name is Amy Brook Palleson aka Sophie Stuckey aka Aimless, and it’s cold this morning and frost is sprinkled across the grass. Thank you!]

PSA: I sent out texts yesterday to everyone (except families already on the Thanksgiving schedule) about holiday dates; I’m pretty much full for 11/28-11/29 and rapidly getting to same for Christmas so please reach out now if you’re not on the schedule and needing either of these holiday times covered before it gets to the point where no sitter in the valley has any space. And for the record: Jack is NOT spoiled; he’s merely treated as you’d expect all whose grace and breeding comes with a genuine sweetness that rolls all the way down to the servant classes. We want to make him happy. It’s the least we can do.

When you’ve heard all those rumors about blondes but you never thought it would be this bad. #justfluff (whelp, yellow-face-toy lasted maybe five minutes and is currently the record-holder for most superb waste of money while also doing double-duty as Quinn’s doppelgänger) [No offense to any blondes out there; I happen to have birthed one and I’m pretty sure there’s more than just fluff in her noggin. Almost Pretty sure] [Also I’ll delete that last bit about my blonde firstborn if she likes this post but she won’t because she only likes them if they’re about Lady or if she accidentally presses “like” while scrolling on to memes about The Office]

Floyd and Quinn’s costume this year is called “two dogs arguing over the same toy even though sitter bought them several” and true to youngsters and costumes, about two minutes after I snapped this, it started “getting itchy” and thus proceeded to drop it’s fluffy guts all over the yard. No worries: no guts, no gory...er,..glory. Have a good holiday, everyone.

“Bye, guys. See you on the other side of winter.” #leaves #grass #saltlakecity (I’m not a lover of autumn for a variety of reasons but it does keep me attuned to the rhythm of the planet and for that I’m grateful. When the winter solstice hits though and the daylight begins to grow as we start to shift, I become enlivened, as if each day is a gift of the sun) (i’ve determined I’m moving my stuff to Flickr—Under my name Amy Palleson or aimless1001. I’m not actually accepting any more sitting families right now anyways, and this whole thing with Instagram and their algorithm and pre-determining who will even see this post is just not my flow. It feels like I’m fighting something invisible and pointless and the ease of the platform here doesn’t justify their inability to allow free speech to be free. Charge me, please, rather than restrict access, IG; ‘cause making me pay in time and irritation is much more expensive. Also followers not liking posts is another reason posts aren’t seen). EDIT: In fact, this is probably gonna be my last post because I have to make a cut off point otherwise I’ll just keep going. I’m super busy and super tired and have to keep in mind that my actual job is the pet sitting of the animals and not this Instagram account. I wish it had worked out here because I’m not trying to get famous—I’m way too private for that—I’m just trying to do something I love and share it. you don’t need an account to view Flickr and please let me know if you’d rather I not post about your pet; if it is okay with you and I do post about your pet, I’ll send you a link if you aren’t on there. Anyways, thank you so much for everything you’ve ever offered here and even for sharing your beloved animals with me. I feel certain you know how much I care for them from a very authentic place. I’ll let you know what ends up happening with the book; I only submitted it that one place—exactly 12 weeks ago to the day—and they guaranteed a response whether yay or nay so not hearing anything gives me hope. I know they’ve been looking in on my stuff so they at least know all of my dysfunctions, as I hide very little from anyone. :)

“Do you for real not know what that word means or is this comedic moment actually kinda just, like...a little sad?” #chat #le #saltlakecity (so my girls can attest that when I transferred to UC Davis, I went on a big adventure/quest/pilgrimage and thought I would just jump right in and take French 1A without any experience at all in the language and I’m 51 now and I still talk about that class. Because come to find out, French is actually an entire language—that you speak and everything—so that five units of a C+ that tanked my GPA for a while was a lesson in embarrassment and ineptitude which I share at all opportunity lest anyone come to assume that adventures are adorable larks rather than red-faced stammering in front of experienced, incredulous Francophiles) (Mr. Cat)

Someday (maybe) we’ll be free of chaos and looking back at this time telling one another stories of our perseverance; of how we walked through the fire holding hands, humming lullabies to make each other brave. And on that day, in the breath of a new world, I will sing the tale of my story, about how Julia left Blue the magic of necklace-wearing kitties and how Dubie—the always-purring kitty—seemed placed upon this earth to remind people how much they wanted to love. And it’ll be sunny, and leaves will weave themselves into blankets upon the ground. (Blue is the sweet girl who my oldest tends who didn’t know anything about cats so they had a moment a few months ago when they saw one on their walk [p.s. I know the cat is a “she”] and Blue was fascinated, so they sat down to be with the kitty and Julia sent me this video after. Dubie is the graceful gentleman who just the other day made me have the thought “animals are here with us to show us how to love” for the experience of Dubie is knowing how much he misses his family and yet still runs to the door to see me and purrs as I carry him—even though it’s not as good as how his mom does—around the condo, and then without even so much as a peep from me, at the end of our time together, walks over to his food bowl as if he doesn’t want me to feel guilty for leaving. Anyways, our animals are such good teachers and may we all step up to that lesson in whatever way feels right for us. Sending good vibes to everyone for a good day).

“Part of my contribution to the family is trying to be the best role model I can be for people feeling anxiety and stress.” #saltlakecity (Jupiter, in his very first product placement for Smarty Kat)

[Repost; in memoriam] Come see me, Sophie, as you’re walking the blue twilight between worlds. Come see me, in that dream land, when the pain disappears, and the body absorbs into stars, and we can behold the sun as it rises on this first new day. Come see me, From your world beyond breath, when the boldness of your heart finds itself again, and in the unburdening from flesh you can see the magic of who you are. Come see me, Sophie, watching the tears of a Sophie-less morning, Then scamper off to the world you now belong to, catching joy like butterflies, looking back to see me (one more time) Quietly calm in the salty stream Daring the world to make me forget For as on the lawn that day and forever, with my hand stretched out, you reached back to me through Time, painting me into wholeness with vibrant splashes of your self, making my heart thump with happiness as your eyes held the wonder of the blue sky and the deep green, and the clouds watched and danced across the sun. [Sophie was a dog with a big personality--charming, funny, dramatic--adopted as a senior into a home with two other large dogs and, on the last trip I cared for her, went downhill to where I knew she'd be passing into the next life. So, through tears on our last visit—her family was racing to get back to her—while sitting on the dirty concrete of her backyard, I stroked her head, and told her to “come see me” from the realm to which she would soon pass. I wrote this poem when I got up the next morning—7/11/17—and Sophie‘s family got back and saw her off in the purposeful-dignity humans are often called on to step up to and, after, when I’d sit for the families two remaining dogs, sometimes at dusk, I'd be sitting in the yard (like all four of us used to do) I swear I’d see Sophie in the corner of my eye. The first time it scared me because--no matter my request that she come see me--my left brain is still very loud. But the next few times, I'd had time to find the acceptance that beyond non-quantum, not much is truly understood, and that it doesn't have to be. For it's almost an irrational idea that humanity could rise into the deep knowing beheld by a Universe we can't...

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