I'll Call It Like I See It

by sheila morris

Category: photography

  • a case of mistaken identity

    a case of mistaken identity


    We all make mistakes, and here’s one of mine.

    This is the cat formerly known as Bully Cat.

    When Carport Kitty (may she rest in peace) first started hanging around in our carport more than a year ago, a larger comparatively healthy looking gray cat which I now know is a type of Tabby attacked the smaller frail Calico we named CPK when she walked toward her food bowl one afternoon. I then jumped to the conclusion that the larger gray cat was malicious so I named this interloper Bully Cat. Later on I found it strange that CPK always left Bully Cat some of her food – she seemed to be friends with this cat I chased off every time I caught him lingering over her food bowl. And when I say chased off, I’m not talking about chasing in a nice way.

    How could Bully Cat be mean if CPK liked him?

    Regardless of my high drama trying to scare him away, the Bully Cat stayed close to CPK for as long as she lived. Since her death five weeks ago, Bully Cat and another CPK amigo I dubbed Tuxedo Cat have wandered through our carport periodically. I told Pretty they were grieving for her, but turns out they were interested in the reliable food chain that once belonged to Carport Kitty.

    No one will be surprised I put out a small amount of kibble in the morning for Tuxedo Cat when she triggered our security lights the way CPK used to do. Sigh. I miss that little creature every day.

    Tux usually shares with Bully Cat like Carport Kitty used to do.

    This morning, however, I looked out my kitchen door and saw the Bully Cat hissing at Tux, his back arched for battle, teeth bared. What in the world had gotten into him? And then I saw it: a pink rhinestone infused collar around his/her thick neck. A light bulb went off in my tiny brain that I had just seen Bully Cat sharing a morning meal with Tux in our carport. No sign of a pink rhinestone collar five minutes before.

    The only explanation I could think of when I told Pretty the story was the Bully Cat I had berated for months was really Carport Kitty’s friend – there was a mean Tabby in our neighborhood, but it wasn’t him. I felt awful for my mistake, my unwillingness to change my original judgment which was a simple case of mistaken identity. (Bully Cat has been renamed Belli Cat by Pretty, same initials BC.)

    No one lives to be seventy-six years old without making blunders, but this one was a doozy. I have no excuses, but I hope I’ve been reminded of a valuable lesson about looking twice before I jump to judgment…sometimes our mistakes have a ripple effect that hurts the innocent.

    If we’re lucky, we get a second chance.

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

    Today is the 1st day of December. Pretty and I want to share a miraculous Christmas cactus we somehow managed not to kill in the five months since she brought it home from one of her treasure hunts. Enjoy.

  • where did I put that memory? ask Pretty

    where did I put that memory? ask Pretty


    ‘Tis the season, and Pretty’s antique empire has “spruced up” for the holiday season.

    Pretty offers the unique, the unpredictable items throughout her antique empire – who’s surprised? Pretty is one of a kind herself, and always unpredictable.

    Visit Little Mountain Unlimited and Cafe at 1528 Main Street, Little Mountain, SC 29075. When you’re downstairs in the cafe trying one of their fabulous homemade desserts, look around. Pretty’s empire covers almost the whole downstairs. It’s HUGE. Look for dealer #221 on the tags. That’s her.

    Pretty’s pieces tell old stories preserved for posterity as well as collectibles for treasure hunters. She has made great efforts to embody the familiar adage we have something for everyone.

    facebook.com/littlemountainantiques/

    Where did you put that memory? Why, it’s waiting for you at Pretty’s antique empire – please visit!

  • thanksgiving is relative

    thanksgiving is relative


    “The oak trees were alive with color in the midst of the evergreens. Bright red and yellow leaves catching the sunlight as Daddy and I walked through the brush early on Thanksgiving morning. The smell of the pines was fresh and all around us. We didn’t speak, but this was when I felt most connected to my father. Nature was a bond that united us and the gift that he gave me. And not just in those East Texas woods. He envisioned the whole earth as my territory and set me on my path to discovery. In 1958, this was remarkable for a girl’s father…

    To this day, Thanksgiving remains my favorite holiday. It seems less commercial than the others and struggles to hold its own before the onslaught of merchandising that we call Christmas. The dinners in the fancy restaurants and hotels and cafeterias never measure up to the feasts my grandmothers served their families.

    Perhaps, though, it is the love and closeness of those family ties that leave the sights and sounds that last a lifetime.”

    This excerpt from the chapter Thanksgiving in the Piney Woods is from my first book Deep in the Heart: A Memoir of Love and Longing.

    my dad’s family on my grandparents’ front steps circa 1956

    (I am seated on the bottom row in my flannel shirt and corduroy pants,

    unsmiling, at my mother’s request for some strange reason)

    Today is a different Thanksgiving in a different home in a different state in a different century, but I still believe in the love and closeness of family ties that bring the sights and sounds that last a lifetime. I know they have in my lifetime.

    310634617_802188724364117_7927820049604676323_n-1

    Unbelievably Thanksgiving will be here again next week, and I am thankful for this different family in a different century in South Carolina, the family with two new members in 2022: our second granddaughter Molly and her first cousin Caleb. The family that goes to Boo at the Zoo together stays together. If in doubt, just ask our three year old granddaughter Ella who thinks Halloween should have its own calendar with Boo at the Zoo every month.

    Most of all, though, I am thankful for Pretty who joins me in wishing our friends and followers in cyberspace a Happy Holiday Season wherever you are – however you celebrate. We are thankful for you.

  • the Urban Legend we called Carport Kitty was a Seeker

    the Urban Legend we called Carport Kitty was a Seeker


    ?? – October 22, 2022

    I am a seeker
    A poor sinful creature
    There is no weaker than I am
    I am a seeker
    And you are a teacher
    You are a reacher
    So reach down
    Reach out and lead me
    Guide me and keep me
    In the shelter of your care each day
    ‘Cause I am a seeker
    And you are a keeper
    You are the leader
    Won’t you show me the way

    I am a vessel that’s empty and useless
    I am a bad seed that fell by the way
    I am a loser that wants to be a winner
    You are my last hope
    Don’t turn me away

    Oh, you are a mountain
    From which there flows a fountain
    So let its water wash my sins away
    ‘Cause I am a seeker
    And you are a keeper
    You are a teacher
    Won’t you teach me the way
    Reach out and lead me
    Guide me and keep me
    In the shelter of your care each day

    Pretty and I shared many tears as we stood next to Carport Kitty when her brave heart came to rest yesterday. Congestive heart failure was the culprit, but this first and last visit to a vet confirmed what we suspected when she first appeared in our carport during the fall of 2021 – frail, limping, exhausted but adamant in her refusal of our attempts to touch her – equally determined to avoid the crate we borrowed from our friend Francie to try to get her to the vet.

    And yet she survived with us in her own way. Pretty began her rescue efforts with a bowl of fresh water every day; I told her I was definitely against any cat rescue since we had three dogs in the house plus my cat allergies. Anyone could see (except Pretty) that we didn’t have a place for an urban feral cat. Sigh. That’s about the time I started feeding her Meow Mix and named her Carport Kitty. Meow Mix moved on to Temptations which led to the canned food delights of Fancy Feast and Little Friskies. CPK became a celebrity to our cyberspace friends through her adventures on Cardinal Street during the changing seasons. Carport Kitty had a following. Never a loser to Pretty and me – always a winner.

    Carport Kitty moved through three other neighborhood homes this summer – I thought she was following the sun to avoid the extreme heat but in retrospect I think she was following the instincts that helped her survive on the streets for who knows how many years or the circumstances that created her journey. One neighbor told us when we first asked last fall if the calico cat belonged to him that she had been roaming this neighborhood for years. He had given her and her friends food, water and shelter from the cold. The calico cat was a stray.

    Over the months Carport Kitty gradually began to trust Pretty and me. I often sat on the kitchen steps outside with her at night to give her last meal of the day – usually her third! Lately she had seemed to want more than her typical head pats from me, a few meows, rubbing against my legs, longer visits than we shared in the summer heat. The black Tuxedo cat, the Bully Cat, the Yellow Cat – all her friends came around at dinner time now but were afraid to come close to her turkey and giblets because the old white woman chased them away to protect the calico cat.

    Somehow in the vicissitudes of life as my daddy used to talk about, I heard Lauren Daigle sing “The Seeker” for a Dolly Parton tribute the night before we lost Carport Kitty. Dolly wrote the song for an album released in 1975 – her words haunted me during these past painful hours because I do believe Carport Kitty was a seeker who came to our home searching for keepers. She found these keepers brought much more than water, food, places for her to reign supreme in her carport kingdom. They gave her their love.

    No matter what time Pretty and I drove up the driveway we both looked for the little calico cat who stood guard over our carport, waiting for us to come home. I’d like to think she might still wait for us…somewhere.

  • Boo at the Zoo in 2022

    Boo at the Zoo in 2022


    For all our friends in cyberspace who have been with us longer than a hot minute (or at least a year) you will recognize changes in our family photos for our second annual Riverbanks Halloween Boo at the Zoo experience. Taken last night, the first night of the 10 night Boo extravaganza we find Pretty in a very large witch’s hat standing behind me in my disguise as an old lady with white hair; to our right the witch family with Pretty Too as Mama Witch holding baby witch Molly now almost 9 months old, 3 year old witch Ella being held by Number One Son Daddy disguised as Gamecock fan minus gear. To the left of Pretty and me Pretty Too’s twin sister Pretty Also (with fangs) plus Super Bro in Law Seth and their 3 months old adorable Cousin Caleb.

    The night was a perfect one – not so cold as we had thought – mild 60s. Most of the animals had wisely stayed in their sleeping quarters as the hordes of costumed children and frazzled families descended for utter mayhem. Or, as Ella told me when I wasn’t quite quick enough to lift her to see the one brave black monkey stick its head out for a peep at the crowd, I think he had to go potty, Naynay. Brilliant.

    As I let Ella slide to the ground, she said, I think you’re too heavy to carry me. Her legs are almost as long as mine!

    Thanks to the thoughtfulness of Pretty Too and Pretty Also combined with the commercial acumen of the Riverbanks Zoo, we have a few pictures to remember the night. (Luckily, or unluckily, videos of my ending dance (following a mug of witch’s brew spirits) with Ella to my all time favorite group Abba’s Dancing Queen were unrecoverable. Pretty forgot to hit the “record” button. Ella will one day thank her for that, too.)

    A few noticeable differences in the Boo experience this year, the most obvious the addition of two children who still qualify for free admission. Two strollers required this time with related diaper bags containing well, you know, what diaper bags all over the world contain. With the little girl who now required a ticket to enter, a decided shift in focus from being mesmerized by the millions of lights outlining ghosts, goblins, witches, bats, pumpkins that had so thrilled her last year – to wait for it, candy acquisition and consumption. The war with sugar has begun.

    The kindness of strangers moved us all when we entered the zoo last night. Somehow in the frenetic pace of parents getting home from work to dress children and themselves in festive Halloween costumes, no one brought Ella’s candy bucket. As Pretty turned to make an emergency run for the candy container in the zoo store, a young mother stood nearby pushing a stroller herself with another child by her side. She gave Ella a bucket with the words, we have two and only need one. Sharing is caring, right? Ella saw a very good example of what those words really mean, and we did, too.

    From our family to yours, have a safe and Happy Halloween.

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

    Slava Ukraini. For the children.