I'll Call It Like I See It

by sheila morris

For any who want more, complete list of all posts by month since 2011
  • it’s a simple matter of justice – remembering Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.

    it’s a simple matter of justice – remembering Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.


    1993 March on Washington for LGBTQ Equality

    Thirty years ago this April I marched with the South Carolina delegation in the 1993 March on Washington. It was a life-changing experience not only for me but for hundreds of thousands of LGBTQ folks and their straight allies.

    I loved that the commemorative poster for the event featured a quote from one of the Civil Rights movement leaders I most admired: Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. The framed poster has been hanging in every office of mine since then.

    “Our freedom was not won a century ago, it is not won today,

    but some small part of it is in our hands,

    and we are no longer marching by ones and twos

    but in legions of thousands,

    convinced now it cannot be denied  by human force.”

    On this special holiday dedicated to you I say thank you for your example of nonviolent social justice change, your ultimate commitment to the possibilities of freedom for all, your powerful voice that spoke for those who could not speak for themselves. Rest in peace, Dr. King, but keep the living stirred up for equal justice for all people everywhere for as long we walk the earth.

    **************************

    Slava Ukraini. For the children.

  • weekend specials popular at the Cardinal Cat Cafe

    weekend specials popular at the Cardinal Cat Cafe


    excuse me, I’m new here, but are the specials usually this popular?

    *********************

    Yes, they’re as popular as popcorn at the Gator Bowl.

    our three year old granddaughter Ella at her first football game!

  • the hideout – revisited on Friday the 13th., 2023

    the hideout – revisited on Friday the 13th., 2023


    On Friday the 13th. of July, 2018, I posted this piece. Time passes, moments are fleeting, but these thoughts hang around while the wind blows a winter’s chill that moves the tall naked sticks that once were trees outside my window this afternoon. I needed a bit of fun, a bit of cheer. Maybe you do, too. Return with me now to those thrilling days of yesteryear when Pretty and I were just a couple of cowpokes in the Wyoming summer...

    Alas, Pretty and Number One Son Drew are winging their way toward Las Vegas on this Friday the 13th. and all of us at Casita de Cardinal will be happy to know they have landed safely tonight. Charly, Spike and I were quite the forlorn threesome when Pretty and her suitcase rolled out of the house this morning. Luckily, I have had an epic Wimbledon Gentlemen’s Semifinal match that lasted over 6 hours to keep my mind occupied today, but tennis has not been a source of comfort for Charly and Spike, I’m afraid. Sigh. Oh, well, it is Friday the 13th.

    In times like these, I often resort to pictures of previous places I have been that make me happy to revisit. One such place was on a trip Pretty and I took 9 years ago with two of our favorite friends, Linda and Beth, to a dude ranch called the Hideout in Shell, Wyoming. Yeehaw. We cowboy.

    Beth (l.) gets credit for planning the adventures

    Pretty embraced the concept…

    Linda (l.) and a wannabe cowgirl Kristi the Kid from Scotland

    another wannabe cowgirl (me) on the left with

    real cowgirl Linda and guide Stewart on the trail

    my horse the oversized Wapiti who was wonderful,

    but oh, so very WIDE…ouch, my aching butt

    this cowgirl needed lots of breaks

    this cowgirl didn’t ever need a break

    the views on the trail were almost as gorgeous as the smiles

    BUT as fate would have it, I was happiest when I was playing Scrabble…

    …and Wapiti was in the pasture having fun with the other horses

    I hope all of my friends in cyberspace have a safe Friday the 13th., a great weekend and wonderful memories of your own Hideouts when you need them.

    ********************

    Slava Ukraini. For the children.

     

     

     

  • Cardinal Cat Cafe

    Cardinal Cat Cafe


    “Hey, come look in the carport. You have a visitor – it’s a new cat I don’t recognize, and it’s sitting next to the food bowls. Come see if this cat is one of your regulars at the Cat Cafe,” Pretty laughed as she called to me from the kitchen one morning this week. “Sheila’s Cat Cafe. Come on down. Everyone’s welcome.” Pretty continued chuckling to herself as I walked through the kitchen to peep through the back door. Hahaha, I thought. Very funny.

    Hm. Nope…definitely not a cat I knew.

    “Well,” I turned to Pretty. “I will not feed this cat. This cat wasn’t one of Carport Kitty’s friends. You realize the only reason I fed the other two cats is because they came to pay their respects after CPK passed. I refuse to become the old lesbian cat lady that lives on Cardinal.”

    Pretty shook her head and said with measured mirth, “That ship sailed months ago. It is what it is, Naynay. Seems to me we need to call our carport feeding bowls Sheila’s Cat Cafe.”

    Somehow that both annoyed and made me smile, too. I mulled things over. “Okay, okay. But let’s call it the Cardinal Cat Cafe. I like the alliteration better.” And therein lay the beginning of the next cat saga which now included a third unnamed cat who felt a menu of Meow Mix as an entree plus Temptations for dessert was delightful.

    Tux and Belli wait to place their order

    Help Wanted

    *******************

    Slava Ukraini. For the children.

  • 1/6 two year anniversary

    1/6 two year anniversary


    “History, despite its wrenching pain, cannot be unlived,

    but if faced with courage,

    need not be lived again.” —Maya Angelou

    Today, January 6th., is our day to remember the wrenching pain of watching the vicious attack on the US Capitol two years ago, to know that day cannot be unlived and must not be erased from our memories but instead a reminder to face with courage every opportunity we are given to prevent such a tragedy from happening again.