People that love you care about how they make you feel.

 

“People that love you care about how they make you feel.” (Unknown)

The depth of someone's love is often measured not by grand gestures, but by the quiet consideration they show for your feelings.

Those who truly care understand that their actions, big or small, have a direct impact on your emotional well-being.

They strive to create a safe and supportive environment where you feel valued, understood, and respected.

This thoughtful approach to relationships isn't about perfection; it's about consistent effort and a genuine desire to nurture your happiness and peace of mind!

Source: Tips That Change Your Life on Facebook

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Another post from Tips That Change Your LIfe shared below that I think pairs well with the one above.

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"Pick the gentle one.

The kind one. The one who brings you peace.

The protective one. The one who is sure of you.

The one who respects you.

The one who understands your silence.

The one who listens with patience.

The one who sees your heart without judgment.

The one who holds your dreams with care.

The one who makes you feel at home, always." (Unknown)

Yes indeed, choose the one who softens the edges of your world, who meets you with kindness even on the days you feel unlovable. The one who doesn’t just hear your words but listens to the quiet spaces in between, understanding the weight of what you don’t say.

Choose the one who stands beside you, not just in laughter but in the moments when life feels heavy, offering steadiness without question. The one who honors your dreams as if they were their own, who protects your heart with gentle hands and unwavering presence.

Love should never leave you anxious or uncertain—it should be a refuge, a place where you are seen, known, and cherished for exactly who you are.

Source: Tips That Change Your Life on Facebook

Mitra @ https://www.facebook.com/tipsthatchangeyourlife/

My Accidental Feral Cat Career

 


My Accidental Feral Cat Career

I was never a cat person. Not even a little bit.

And yet… here we are.

It started in May 2025 when I discovered Mama Kitty living under my deck. She didn’t ask permission. She didn’t sign a lease. She simply moved in and brought children.

At first it was just her. Then Spot appeared — one of her four babies. Four. Under my deck. Without consulting management.

I named them Mama Kitty, Spot, Stripe, Boo, and Heartley, because apparently once you name them, you legally become responsible for them. That’s how it works, right?

Thus began my unpaid internship as Director of Backyard Operations.

Watching the kittens grow was pure joy. Tiny paws. Wobbly legs. Chaos at sunset. They turned my peaceful backyard into a WWE wrestling arena with fur. I’d sit and watch them like it was prime-time television. Better than streaming. Five stars. Would recommend.

Then Mama Kitty disappeared.

She left her teenage children with me like, “You got this.” She’d pop back in occasionally to eat, glance at her offspring like a tired mom at soccer practice, and then vanish again.

And then I noticed it.

The belly.

“Oh no,” I said to absolutely no one. “We are not doing this again.”

I had requested help getting her spayed. Help did not arrive. The universe said, “Surprise!”

Then she disappeared completely. Two whole weeks. When she finally reappeared, the belly was gone.

And what did I do?

I told her, “Go get those babies.”

As if she understood English.
As if she had a calendar.
As if I wasn’t already overwhelmed.

Every day she’d show up, inhale food like she had a train to catch, scan the perimeter, and bolt off the deck like it was actively on fire.

This went on for a while.

Then one day I saw something tiny streak across the deck.

Three. Tiny. Black. Kittens.

So now I had Mama Kitty, the original four, AND three bonus voids. Apparently my deck is a maternity ward.

Eventually Mama Kitty and the three little soot sprites were rehomed (bless whoever signed up for that). And I was left with the original crew: Heartley, Stripe, Spot — now known as Junior — and Boo, now called Sweet Boi, because obviously he needed a rebrand.

They come and go as they please, because they are feral and do not recognize authority. If they miss a meal, I spiral. If they’re gone for two days, I assume coyotes, aliens, or a secret double life.

I was not built for this.

I did not apply for this.

But somewhere along the way, these little freeloaders stole my heart.

I may not have been a cat person…

…but apparently I’m a colony manager now.

And management is tired. 

Diamond in My Crown Patty Loveless

 

As each long day rolls by and falls behind me
In the lonely night there's a peacefulness I've found
Though I'm weary even then when I rise to start again
There'll be a diamond, a diamond in my crown

I have wasted all that life has laid before me
I have watched as all the green fields turn to brown
But I shall not disavow all these ties that bind me now
There'll be a diamond, a diamond in my crown

Shining down some day I know
Brighter than all their streets of gold
When the burdens that I carry I will lay down
And the sorrows I have known
I'll see them all overthrown
There'll be a diamond, a diamond in my crown
Then the closer I will be to my sweetest victory
There'll be a diamond a diamond in my crown

The Naming of Cats

 

The Naming of Cats
by T. S. Eliot

The Naming of Cats is a difficult matter,
It isn’t just one of your holiday games;
You may think at first I’m as mad as a hatter
When I tell you, a cat must have THREE DIFFERENT NAMES.
First of all, there’s the name that the family use daily,
Such as Peter, Augustus, Alonzo, or James,
Such as Victor or Jonathan, George or Bill Bailey —
All of them sensible everyday names.
There are fancier names if you think they sound sweeter,
Some for the gentlemen, some for the dames:
Such as Plato, Admetus, Electra, Demeter —
But all of them sensible everyday names.
But I tell you, a cat needs a name that’s particular,
A name that’s peculiar, and more dignified,
Else how can he keep up his tail perpendicular,
Or spread out his whiskers, or cherish his pride?
Of names of this kind, I can give you a quorum,
Such as Munkstrap, Quaxo, or Coricopat,
Such as Bombalurina, or else Jellylorum —
Names that never belong to more than one cat.
But above and beyond there’s still one name left over,
And that is the name that you never will guess;
The name that no human research can discover —
But THE CAT HIMSELF KNOWS, and will never confess.
When you notice a cat in profound meditation,
The reason, I tell you, is always the same:
His mind is engaged in a rapt contemplation
Of the thought, of the thought, of the thought of his name:
His ineffable effable
Effanineffable
Deep and inscrutable singular Name.

Image belongs to me.

My Little Feral Cat Colony

I was never a cat person. Truly. But these darn cats stole my heart anyway.

When I first discovered them in my backyard, it was just Mama Kitty. Not long after, Spot appeared — one of her four babies. She had tucked her litter safely beneath my deck. That was May 2025. There were four kittens in all, and I named them Mama Kitty, Spot, Stripe, Boo, and Heartley.

And just like that, our adventure began.

And it was an adventure.

Watching those kittens grow brought so much unexpected joy to my heart. Their tiny paws, their wobbly steps, their playful tumbles across the deck — they made my backyard feel alive in a way it never had before.

A few months later, Mama Kitty disappeared, leaving her adolescent kittens behind with me. She would return sporadically — just long enough to eat and check on her babies. Then one day I noticed her belly was growing.

Oh no. More mouths to feed.

I had asked for help getting her spayed, but no one came. So lucky me… another litter on the way.

Then she stopped coming altogether. About two weeks passed before I saw her again — and her belly was no longer round. Silly me, I told her, “Go get those babies.” I said it every time she showed up. And she did show up — every single day. She would eat quickly, glance around, and then dash off as if the deck were on fire.

This went on for a while.

Then one day, I saw something tiny scurry across the deck.

Suddenly, I had three tiny black kittens along with Mama Kitty and the first litter.

Eventually, Mama Kitty and the three little ones were rehomed. It was bittersweet, but they found safety and warmth.

I still have Heartley (now neutered), Stripe (now neutered), Spot — who is now called Junior — and Boo, now affectionately known as Sweet Boi. They come and go as they please, and I worry constantly when they disappear for a few days at a time.

I was not cut out to be the caretaker of a feral cat colony.

But somehow, I was drafted.

And I wouldn’t trade the adventure for anything.

The Rainy Day by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

 

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow (27 Feb. 1807 - March 1882) was born in Portland and attended Bowdoin College.

The Rainy Day by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

The day is cold, and dark, and dreary
It rains, and the wind is never weary;
The vine still clings to the mouldering wall,
But at every gust the dead leaves fall,
And the day is dark and dreary.

My life is cold, and dark, and dreary;
It rains, and the wind is never weary;
My thoughts still cling to the mouldering Past,
But the hopes of youth fall thick in the blast,
And the days are dark and dreary.

Be still, sad heart! and cease repining;
Behind the clouds is the sun still shining;
Thy fate is the common fate of all,
Into each life some rain must fall,
Some days must be dark and dreary.

It’s bound to change

 

Where light exists, there’s shadow

Where a rose is, you’ll find thorns

And where the dusk descends at night

The sun will rise at dawn

Where fear exists, there’s courage

We are free to be controlled

And where there exists a secret

There’s a story to be told

Each end’s a new beginning

Sometimes lies reveal the truth

And where there is growing old it’s ‘cause

At one time there was youth

If you fail repeatedly

There’s more chance you’ll succeed

But the only guarantee in life

Is nothing’s guaranteed

‘Cause life is contradictory

Where less is often more

It’s a paradox, it’s opposites

A constant upward fall

In a world where silence deafens

And where there is icy heat

Where sometimes things are awfully good

And sometimes bittersweet

So when life’s playing up

Try not to let it get you down

‘Cause sometimes we must lose ourselves

To finally feel found

And you are not alone

So many others feel the same

‘Cause the only constant thing in life

Is that it’s bound to change

*****

Becky Hemsley 2023

Stunning artwork by Ernie Francis Art

This one is from 'Letters from Life

Becky Hemsley Poetry on Facebook

A PLACE

 

A PLACE

I think I'll go somewhere today

to a place I've been before

Not to the family doctor

not to the mall or grocery store

It's the place I often visit

when I'm down and feeling low

It's the place I hold the key to

and no one else will ever know

It's a place where I've fought battles

a place of loneliness and pain

A place where sometimes I go crazy

but it's better than insane

A place I find a little solitude

a place of sunshine in my heart

A place where happiness exists

a place to find a brand new start

Sometimes I need to run away

if it's even for a day

Then I find a new perspective

to take my cloudy skies away

I think everybody has a place

a place where they can also go

It's a place of much contentment

a place you may already know

It's right between your ears

and nestled just behind your eyes

It's a place that holds your secrets

a place where no one tells you lies

I have to go away now

to the place that I speak of

I'm so familiar with this place

indeed , a place I truly love

Source: Tim Stultz - Cambridge, Maryland poems and stories on Facebook

ai art by me