A Free-Roaming Cat Family and Me (Part 5)

By Lizbeth Hartz | October 17, 2019

My cat family lived contentedly outside. The only times we touched were when Mama Kitty cautiously rubbed her furry back against my leg. She trusted me to feed her and her offspring, now longer than she is, but not nearly so rolly polly. I guess she ate as often as she could get me to…

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Gates, Dreams, and Feral Chickens

By Lizbeth Hartz | October 11, 2019

Suddenly, I awoke from a dream: I look through my sheer living room curtains. Barry’s BMW and my Hyundai sit side by side in the darkened garage. The streetlight shining in front of our house illuminates a man between our cars walking toward our house. He doesn’t look threatening. I don’t know him. I’d recognize…

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A Free-Roaming Cat Family and Me (Part 4)

By Lizbeth Hartz | October 8, 2019

During frequent downpours in our rainy mountain valley, the cat family stayed dry. Mama Cat moved them from patio to under the house when they turned six weeks old. They were safer there, sleeping on top of boogie boards and ice chests and Barry’s and my cardboard boxes. I’m glad this is Mama Cat’s last…

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A Free-Roaming Cat Family and Me (Part 3)

By Lizbeth Hartz | October 1, 2019

Part 3 Before the cats appeared, I’d hung a bird feeder in a Madagascar Dragon Tree. This changed the ecology of the down-sloping backyard overflowing with strawberry guava, tangerine and banana trees, ferns, and anthurium plants (which my mom used to call “little boy flowers”). Dozens of rice birds, cardinals, and a few wild green parrots…

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Swedish Activist Greta Thunberg: Fighting the Good Fight for Climate Change #WATWB

By Lizbeth Hartz | September 27, 2019

The good news about climate change is that it’s still not too late to reverse it if the people of the world all pull together. The best news about that is, we have incredible young activists marching, protesting and fighting to get people to do just that.  Climate control is the top priority of the…

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A Free-Roaming Cat Family and Me (Part 2)

By Lizbeth Hartz | September 26, 2019

Part 2 On a cool February morning three and a half years ago, I carried a bucket of towels and T-shirts to hang on the rope clothesline spanning the length of the patio. Hearing a rustling sound, I looked down. Wedged between the wheelchair and a chair protected by a plastic mattress cover, three baby…

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