So, mom and I are here in Northumberland County, in the land of blood sucking pencils. There are lots of interesting things here you can see without even getting out of the car. I like sitting in the back window and meowing at all the tail-gators (they're like alligators, except they're cars). It drives Al crazy, he's the retired police officer/realtor/cemetery keeper/fireman/FEMA guy who likes to drive the women around. Mom and Mary haven't had to drive at all hardly. I wish he'd let me drive, but he says cats can't reach the pedals so it's unsafe. I say just let me steer, but he says no, I'm too dangerous. I say of course I'm dangerous, I'm a cat.
We spent the weekend tooling around the hills, looking at stuff. Mom and Al kept stopping and getting out and reading things. They looked at all those hysterical markers and read every single one. Personally, I would have taken pictures of them and read them later in the privacy of my litter box, but no, they took pictures AND read them. But we did find some really cool stuff. There are lots of buildings including a big prison that was built in 1896 and looks like a huge fort with a dungeon. I don't think I'd like to explore there even though it was totally cool to look at. Probably had ghosts of cats killed by giant rats or something. Back then cats had to work for a living. Barbaric.
We found roads that were closed from the flooding and, of course, mom and Al had to drive up them. Everywhere we went we came dangerously close to water. It would be on the right side of the car, then go under the road and be on the left side of the car. And even though they were being totally cool about it, I knew that parts of those roads had washed out during the floods. I laid in the back window pretending to be bored but couldn't keep my tail from twitching occasionally. When they got to a highway I thought, okay, we're safe! but no. Mom saw a little bitty road and told Al they needed to explore it. He turned the car around and off we went- into the wilderness.
Did you know there are bears in Pennsylvania? Well, there are. So we drove (with the windows open: mom loves the smell of the woods) along this dirt path off into the trees. There were piles of rocks everywhere. Then there were piles of stones. Then there were piles of bricks. Starting to sound like the three little pigs? Well, there were also piles of asphalt and cement and wood and all kinds of stuff. Pretty hefty beavers, I thought because all of this debris was around a big bowl of water. Of course the humans got out of the car to get closer to the shore. Down in the pond there were two big, yellow Caterpillar vehicles. One of them was clearly stuck in the mud. The other one apparently tried to get the first one out, but had also gotten stuck because although its shovel was down in the water, its tracks were dangling in the air.
They followed the road even farther into the woods and suddenly there was this small lake (or big pond) and even I have to admit it was really pretty. I stayed in the car, of course, but mom and Al went over to the edge. They found a dead rattlesnake there (at least they think it was a rattlesnake. It was a skeleton with fangs). Mom wanted me to come look, but I declined. A family drove by on four-wheelers, pointing and laughing. That was when I saw the squirrel with the binoculars.
The squirrel population in Pennsylvania is revolting, and by that I don't mean they're ugly. They are getting organized. Everywhere there are lookouts tracking human activity. Every day we drive by the "Seminary for Suicidal Squirrels". We have to be on the lookout for the little buggers that escape from the home and dart out in front of us. We aren't going fast and Al always honks and slows down, but they make a concerted effort to dive under our tires. So far we've avoided each and every one.
We went to a lot of cemeteries that day. For some reason both mom and Al like to go see the graves of dead strangers. There was one that we looked at that was kind of cool up on a back road. It was fenced and had a lot of crosses. Then right next to it, also fenced, was a Catholic cemetery. Right next to that, and duly fenced, was a Greek Orthodox cemetery. And across the fence from that was a Jewish cemetery. I guess the fences were there to keep the dead from sneaking from one cemetery to another because then God would get mixed up and send the wrong people to hell. And Jewish people don't even have hell. There wasn't a pet cemetery there, but there is one on the road to work. Mom and Al talked about going to see that. If they do, I'm staying home. Too many dog ghosts there.
While we were out and about, we stopped at a place called Turkey Hill. It was a convenience store. Mom had to use the facilities and when she came out she said, "You do not want to go in there!" Apparently it was quite stinky and it was that way before she went in. Outside Mr. Al filled the car and aired up the tires. He's such a sweetheart. There were a bunch of bikers there, so of course mom struck up a conversation. One of them asked if she knew where someplace was and she said sorry, not from around here. The guy said that was too bad because their leader was lost and wouldn't admit it. Mom advised him to fill up his tank and head for Route 81. Then they could figure out where they were. Off they roared, in the wrong direction, tattoos glittering in the autumn sun.
And it was a beautiful day. The sun was shining, the sky was blue all over and it was just the right temperature to lay in the window and snooze. I could watch leaves fluttering down like songbirds, all bright colors: red, purple, yellow, orange. We were tooling around with the windows open and even though I'm not a dog, I did enjoy having a bit of a breeze blowing through my fur.
The next place we went was to see the windmills. Now as you know, we have lots of windmills in Mouskin, but Al had never seen them up close, so we went looking. It was very difficult as we found out that windmills don't just sit on top of the hill, they move and hide. We saw them and drove up on the hill, then they had moved. Then we went down another road and saw them, but when we tried to get to them, they hid again. Finally, we found the road that led to the maintenance place for the windmills. Al climbed a little hill. Mom did too, but it took her twice as long and she sounded like a steam engine. Al thought he might have to carry her out through the locked gate (oh yeah, the gate was locked and no trespassing) which he couldn't even on his best firefighting day. But they finally made it out to the windmills. It was so quiet (despite the bears) that they could hear the windmills creaking in the breeze. Mom took pictures for Al of the windmills sticking out of his head. All he needed was a beanie.
Thursday, October 13, 2011
Tuesday, October 4, 2011
Shamokin
Mom and I are in Shamokin, a little coal town nestled deep in the hills of Central Pennsylvania. At one time this was a booming place, bustling with coal miners, bankers, wealthy investors and other workers. You can tell that by the presence of majestic old buildings with fine masonry and carved stone decorations, beautifully detailed Victorian homes and artfully wrought metals and statuary. This town is a dream for anyone interested in architectural details and variety of structures.
But the sad part is that these buildings are empty, or crumbling, or being sub-divided. The native rock here has been used for centuries to make sturdy, long-lasting homes. Amish farms are built of these materials, by hand with tools wielded without the aid of electricity. This is Shamokin, a shadow if it’s former glory.
The people here are tired, I think. Tired of being broke. One by one the businesses pull out. More and more people are out of work, needing help. Things are a little dingy: the houses, the streets, the signs, as if coal dust had settled over everything and colored the mood of the place.
But these are good people. They work hard, they tend to one another. They’re proud, too, don’t want to take help, even when they need it. One of the things that’s hardest for mom is to convince folks that it’s ok to get help from the government. It seems that their pride is all they have left sometimes, after all the flooding, and they don’t want to give that up. Mom and the guys do their best to convince them that they paid their taxes and these taxes are coming back to them to help when they need it most. And that works mostly because it’s true. They deserve help and they need it.
Looking around it seems even the sky is tired. Gray skies raining on gray-green hills. The water is still running high and it too, is gray. It takes just a little storm to restart the flooding. Folks have been cleaning and fixing, then cleaning and fixing again. It’s wearing on everyone and it shows.
Help is here for the flooding, from the government and the voluntary agencies. But the help is not enough to fix the real problems. The town is ghostly. People seem haunted as they pass. Younger people have left this town, and the older ones will stay here until they die. There are no jobs here to speak of: every big business that built this town has moved on. There are few farms because the land is so steep and great piles of coal and slag mar the hillsides. The town, and in fact the entire area, has been used up and left for dead.
But these people aren’t dead. They are pulling themselves up, one by one; out of the the flooded mire, cleaning up, fixing up and living. And when the sun shines here again, they will turn their faces to the sun.
Is there a future for these people? They deserve one, a future with jobs and children and good health. The people of Shamokin are nothing if not resilient. And once they shake off the water, they’ll be ok.
But the sad part is that these buildings are empty, or crumbling, or being sub-divided. The native rock here has been used for centuries to make sturdy, long-lasting homes. Amish farms are built of these materials, by hand with tools wielded without the aid of electricity. This is Shamokin, a shadow if it’s former glory.
The people here are tired, I think. Tired of being broke. One by one the businesses pull out. More and more people are out of work, needing help. Things are a little dingy: the houses, the streets, the signs, as if coal dust had settled over everything and colored the mood of the place.
But these are good people. They work hard, they tend to one another. They’re proud, too, don’t want to take help, even when they need it. One of the things that’s hardest for mom is to convince folks that it’s ok to get help from the government. It seems that their pride is all they have left sometimes, after all the flooding, and they don’t want to give that up. Mom and the guys do their best to convince them that they paid their taxes and these taxes are coming back to them to help when they need it most. And that works mostly because it’s true. They deserve help and they need it.
Looking around it seems even the sky is tired. Gray skies raining on gray-green hills. The water is still running high and it too, is gray. It takes just a little storm to restart the flooding. Folks have been cleaning and fixing, then cleaning and fixing again. It’s wearing on everyone and it shows.
Help is here for the flooding, from the government and the voluntary agencies. But the help is not enough to fix the real problems. The town is ghostly. People seem haunted as they pass. Younger people have left this town, and the older ones will stay here until they die. There are no jobs here to speak of: every big business that built this town has moved on. There are few farms because the land is so steep and great piles of coal and slag mar the hillsides. The town, and in fact the entire area, has been used up and left for dead.
But these people aren’t dead. They are pulling themselves up, one by one; out of the the flooded mire, cleaning up, fixing up and living. And when the sun shines here again, they will turn their faces to the sun.
Is there a future for these people? They deserve one, a future with jobs and children and good health. The people of Shamokin are nothing if not resilient. And once they shake off the water, they’ll be ok.
Wednesday, August 10, 2011
Perry for President
Well, it's getting to be that time again, and I can see Rick Perry, that crazy Texan is getting ready to steal my slogan! I've spent six years making the phrase "Perry for President" respectable. Now all that seems to be going straight into the pooper.
Even though I'm short haired, my fur does move in the wind. I think that is more honest than lacquering up the old fuzz and gale-testing it. Besides, you can't see all my colors unless my fur moves. And Rick Perry is a Republican, of course, which means he has taken leave of his senses. And in the state where rednecks still beat the crap out of queers, Rick Perry is woefully short of female companionship... just sayin'...
He's being a religious man, holding massive prayers for rain and, no doubt, respectability. But his brothers and sisters in faith are, putting it gently, rather out on the fringe of Christianity. They tout sleeping with she-demons, natural catastrophes as gay punishment and other rather bizarre ideologies. Nothing about cats, though, so that's a relief. Plus, he wasn't including anyone but Christians in prayer day even though we have lots and lots of Judeo-Christian-Muslim believers (they believe in the same God) and others: Hindus, Buddhists, Wiccans, and all kinds of other pagans. I personally am a reformed Quaker, but I can't stay quiet enough to go to services. But, you know how cats are.
My main complaint about Rick Perry (besides the economic policy, the immigration policy, the education policy, the transportation policy, the energy policy and most of his other policies) is that he's using my name in vain. Do you know how embarrassing it is to have neighborhood dogs coming to the door and you-know-whatting because they think I'm the Perry who does the stuff our governor does?
It's positively mortifying.
So remember, there's Rick Perry and there's the Real Perry. Yup, a cat is better than a weasel.
P
Monday, August 1, 2011
Too Hot For Bugs
Ok, we know it's hot and we know it's dry. But here's some other things we've observed about the summer in Texas this year.
First: There's no bugs. Nada. Nicht. You can drive for three hours in any direction from Amarillo and not hit a single insect. We have yet to see mosquitos, grasshoppers, preying mantisses, crickets, or any other of the normal six legged fauna. I don't think it's the spraying. I'm not seeing them out in the country either, And at night we have a little toad (The Emily thinks he's a Killer Toad) who has come out on our porch for the water and the moths and other bugs which buzz around the light at night. Except, no bugs. No moths, butterflies, June bugs, nuttin. Yesterday we caught him eating ants. Of course, there's always ants. I think we're going to have to go to Petco and buy our little toad crickets just to keep him alive.
Second: Mom and I went to Lubbock last weekend to see the exhibit at the museum on the Nazi euthanasia program. It was very interesting. What was even more interesting, however, was that although there was a shallow pool outside, there were no birds in evidence. No birds in the water, no birds near the water, no birds on the lawn, no birds in the trees, no bird chirps or calls or other sounds. I guess it's too hot for the birds, too. Or maybe they already ate all the bugs and then starved to death. I don't know. Around home there's still those dang doves and a few other birds we see occasionally (mostly grackles), but for the most part, not very many. Perhaps they are roasting in the trees. Maybe when fall comes all we have to do for Thanksgiving is shake the trees and fully-cooked squab will fall out. We'll just need to make the gravy.
Third: Mammals. I hardly ever see other cats or dogs outside. During the day it's so hot that they must be hiding in the shade of cars and bushes. At dawn and in the late evening there are a couple of cats who come by because mom feeds them. One of them is called "Slinky", a beautifully marked Calico. She's sweet and affectionate and Kemper Kitty loves her. And because there's rabies in the area, mom took her to the vet for her shots. But she stays outside because we can't have another animal in the house. Mom wants to let her in during the day, but The Emily hasn't bought her a flea collar yet, so she can't come in. Mom would put her out at night. The other cat is a ratty old yellow male. His head fur is bigger than the rest of his body and it makes him look like a lion or a huge-headed mutant or something. He has a nasty disposition and fights with Slinky. He needs to be neutered, too, because his huevos are huge and he makes me jealous. See a vet, Dude! Spay and neuter makes you cuter!
Fourth: Lots of wild animals are coming into town to get water and food. Skunks, the primary reason for the rabies outbreak, are getting in to people's trash and gardens and fighting with cats and dogs. Who knows what else? But I know from Aunt Barbara that if you see a skunk in the daytime, he's probably rabid. You run in the house and lock the door. Skunks can't reach the keyholes so they can't get in. Thank God Aunt Barbara learned that. She probably saved a lot of lives with that information. However, she says, goats can open the doors, so beware of rabid goats! But there are animals abandoning their young because they're too slow to keep up or parents don't have enough energy to feed them with smaller animals dying of heat and thirst. We haven't seen any buzzards, either, so maybe the carcasses are too dry to eat. Roadkill jerky? You never know.
It's too hot for KK to go out and play. It's dang hot. But on the other hand, at times when KK could go out and play, no one wants to go out and watch him. His mom sleeps and makes him stay in their room all day. Mom takes him when she can but her back leg hurts and she may have to go to the vet to have a peg put on it. I hope she gets a hardwood one. I could use a good scratching post. Especially one that moves where I do. And mom will be a riot clopping around like a pirate! Just needs a patch on her eye. Hmmm... Maybe if I get up on the bookcase at night just before she goes to bed... WHIPSNAP CLAWS!
Avast matey! Get me some grog... catnip grog!
First: There's no bugs. Nada. Nicht. You can drive for three hours in any direction from Amarillo and not hit a single insect. We have yet to see mosquitos, grasshoppers, preying mantisses, crickets, or any other of the normal six legged fauna. I don't think it's the spraying. I'm not seeing them out in the country either, And at night we have a little toad (The Emily thinks he's a Killer Toad) who has come out on our porch for the water and the moths and other bugs which buzz around the light at night. Except, no bugs. No moths, butterflies, June bugs, nuttin. Yesterday we caught him eating ants. Of course, there's always ants. I think we're going to have to go to Petco and buy our little toad crickets just to keep him alive.
Second: Mom and I went to Lubbock last weekend to see the exhibit at the museum on the Nazi euthanasia program. It was very interesting. What was even more interesting, however, was that although there was a shallow pool outside, there were no birds in evidence. No birds in the water, no birds near the water, no birds on the lawn, no birds in the trees, no bird chirps or calls or other sounds. I guess it's too hot for the birds, too. Or maybe they already ate all the bugs and then starved to death. I don't know. Around home there's still those dang doves and a few other birds we see occasionally (mostly grackles), but for the most part, not very many. Perhaps they are roasting in the trees. Maybe when fall comes all we have to do for Thanksgiving is shake the trees and fully-cooked squab will fall out. We'll just need to make the gravy.
Third: Mammals. I hardly ever see other cats or dogs outside. During the day it's so hot that they must be hiding in the shade of cars and bushes. At dawn and in the late evening there are a couple of cats who come by because mom feeds them. One of them is called "Slinky", a beautifully marked Calico. She's sweet and affectionate and Kemper Kitty loves her. And because there's rabies in the area, mom took her to the vet for her shots. But she stays outside because we can't have another animal in the house. Mom wants to let her in during the day, but The Emily hasn't bought her a flea collar yet, so she can't come in. Mom would put her out at night. The other cat is a ratty old yellow male. His head fur is bigger than the rest of his body and it makes him look like a lion or a huge-headed mutant or something. He has a nasty disposition and fights with Slinky. He needs to be neutered, too, because his huevos are huge and he makes me jealous. See a vet, Dude! Spay and neuter makes you cuter!
Fourth: Lots of wild animals are coming into town to get water and food. Skunks, the primary reason for the rabies outbreak, are getting in to people's trash and gardens and fighting with cats and dogs. Who knows what else? But I know from Aunt Barbara that if you see a skunk in the daytime, he's probably rabid. You run in the house and lock the door. Skunks can't reach the keyholes so they can't get in. Thank God Aunt Barbara learned that. She probably saved a lot of lives with that information. However, she says, goats can open the doors, so beware of rabid goats! But there are animals abandoning their young because they're too slow to keep up or parents don't have enough energy to feed them with smaller animals dying of heat and thirst. We haven't seen any buzzards, either, so maybe the carcasses are too dry to eat. Roadkill jerky? You never know.
It's too hot for KK to go out and play. It's dang hot. But on the other hand, at times when KK could go out and play, no one wants to go out and watch him. His mom sleeps and makes him stay in their room all day. Mom takes him when she can but her back leg hurts and she may have to go to the vet to have a peg put on it. I hope she gets a hardwood one. I could use a good scratching post. Especially one that moves where I do. And mom will be a riot clopping around like a pirate! Just needs a patch on her eye. Hmmm... Maybe if I get up on the bookcase at night just before she goes to bed... WHIPSNAP CLAWS!
Avast matey! Get me some grog... catnip grog!
Monday, July 4, 2011
Americans Are...
I work for a government agency which responds to presidentially declared disasters. Many times I've seen devastating destruction, loss of life and the aftermath that accompanies these conditions. Here are some important qualities I see in Americans:
1) Americans are good people. Many times by the time I get to a disaster site there are very few people homeless. They go and stay with friends and relatives, neighbors and fellow church members. And those with less devastating damage want those worse off than themselves to be served first. If you lost something, chances are that it will be returned to you if it can be identified. Crime typically goes down after a disaster. And everyone is ready to help.
2) American are cooperative. Our religious groups work together. During the Hurricane Katrina response there were so many groups of religious volunteers: Christians, Jews, Muslims, Krishnas, Mormons, Mennonites, Scientologists and variations of all of these. Everyone pitched in, everyone worked hard. It didn't matter what your beliefs were, these people were there to help anyone and everyone who needed it. And on a smaller scale it happens at every disaster I see.
3) Americans are hospitable. They open their homes. During the catastrophic evacuation of Katrina and Rita, cities and towns from all of the fifty states offered to house those who were homeless. Cities and towns opened shelters, churches set up beds and cooked. And people in these places opened their homes to families who were displaced, taking them in and helping them get their lives back together. Many evacuees stayed and became members of their new communities.
4) Americans are proud. Although emergency disaster funds are nearly always approved, many people don't "want a handout". They may have lost their home to an F5 tornado or have it wiped away in a flood. It's difficult for Americans to ask for help when we've been brought up on self-reliance. But sometimes everyone needs a hand. "It's the taxes you pay," I explain, "Your disaster savings account."
5) Americans are adaptable. When one's life disappears in a heartbeat, Americans try to look at the bright side. After losing her home and everything in it to a terrifying tornado, one woman commented, "Well, my husband wouldn't let me throw away his junk. Now I don't have to worry about it any more. IT'S GONE!"
Our people are sturdy and strong and independent, just what you'd expect an American to be. Yes, we bicker and gripe, and we have some real crazies out there. But I can tell you that when the chips are down, Americans are right there with a shovel, ready to move them out and start over.
Who needs chips anyways?
Happy Independence Day!
1) Americans are good people. Many times by the time I get to a disaster site there are very few people homeless. They go and stay with friends and relatives, neighbors and fellow church members. And those with less devastating damage want those worse off than themselves to be served first. If you lost something, chances are that it will be returned to you if it can be identified. Crime typically goes down after a disaster. And everyone is ready to help.
2) American are cooperative. Our religious groups work together. During the Hurricane Katrina response there were so many groups of religious volunteers: Christians, Jews, Muslims, Krishnas, Mormons, Mennonites, Scientologists and variations of all of these. Everyone pitched in, everyone worked hard. It didn't matter what your beliefs were, these people were there to help anyone and everyone who needed it. And on a smaller scale it happens at every disaster I see.
3) Americans are hospitable. They open their homes. During the catastrophic evacuation of Katrina and Rita, cities and towns from all of the fifty states offered to house those who were homeless. Cities and towns opened shelters, churches set up beds and cooked. And people in these places opened their homes to families who were displaced, taking them in and helping them get their lives back together. Many evacuees stayed and became members of their new communities.
4) Americans are proud. Although emergency disaster funds are nearly always approved, many people don't "want a handout". They may have lost their home to an F5 tornado or have it wiped away in a flood. It's difficult for Americans to ask for help when we've been brought up on self-reliance. But sometimes everyone needs a hand. "It's the taxes you pay," I explain, "Your disaster savings account."
5) Americans are adaptable. When one's life disappears in a heartbeat, Americans try to look at the bright side. After losing her home and everything in it to a terrifying tornado, one woman commented, "Well, my husband wouldn't let me throw away his junk. Now I don't have to worry about it any more. IT'S GONE!"
Our people are sturdy and strong and independent, just what you'd expect an American to be. Yes, we bicker and gripe, and we have some real crazies out there. But I can tell you that when the chips are down, Americans are right there with a shovel, ready to move them out and start over.
Who needs chips anyways?
Happy Independence Day!
Wednesday, June 8, 2011
Mary Forsythe
Her name was Mary but everyone called her Mimi. Mimi was a thoroughly wonderful person: kind, thoughtful, giving and hysterically funny. Her sense of humor was sharp and witty. She loved to laugh and loved it more when others were laughing with her.
Mimi was first a mom. She has three beautiful daughters: Jody, Jackie and Jill. She loved and worked hard to raise her children to be good people and she succeded. She also adored her grandchildren - all girls - and loved spending time with them. And now there is a great grandchild, the apple of her eye Beanie, and two more on the way. It is sad that they will never meet her.
Mimi loved greatly. She took in people in need and gave whenever she could. She was a sucker for romance. People would gravitate to her. You could hear her laughing across the room. As an adult she worked hard. She was at IBM for many years while her children were young, raising them on her own. In Boston Mimi and one of her daughters worked a printing company. She also worked in the Hamptons on Long Island in New York. Then she moved to Florida, a little trailer near Sanibel. She loved the coast and her friends there. Mimi always made friends.
But she moved back to New York State to be near her children, and her grandchildren. She was a touchstone to her daughters and was happy they were all close, and close by. She loved to play. Mimi was always up for the bowling team or the dart team or the softball team. She loved to pass time playing cards. It didn't matter which game it was as long as she was laughing with her friends.
Those two words always come up when you talk about Mimi: laughing and friends. It seemed she knew everyone, whereever she went people spoke to her, always someone who knew her. One time she and I were in the drive up lane of some fast food restaurant. The girl at the window hollared, "Hi, Mimi!" I made a comment to her about how she seemed to know everyone. The girl in the window said, "Oh, everybody loves Mimi!"
And it's true. Everyone loved Mimi. If you went into her apartment people would be in and out all day, saying hi, checking on her, taking care she was doing well. The phone rang quite often and she would talk and laugh, always laugh.
Unless, of course, the Yankees were playing a game on the television. Then it was time for Gloria Estafan to get a new hairstyle: code for "time to get off the phone".
I will miss my aunt. I talked to her frequently and got to visit her recently at her home in New York. She was tired, and not happy that her health was so poor. But that didn't change her, didn't turn her into a crabby old lady. The woman was vibrant and happy and ready for a good joke.
I will always remember Mimi laughing.
Thursday, June 2, 2011
Bad Times
Mom doesn't want to live feeling like she does anymore. She's sad and feels hopeless, useless and on a road to more pain. She's tired of life, wants it over. There are no emotions left in her.
Being hollowed out and crisp, so light that a light breeze will blow her apart, she sits and waits for it all to end. Her uncle and aunt both killed themselves at her age. They used a .22 pistol. Mom gave away her shotgun a long time ago. There are no firearms in the house.
And she's seen what happens to families of people who kill themselves. They are hurt and angry and they never get over it. She can't do that to her family, so she's stuck here: wanting to die but not wanting to hurt her family. It's frustrating and stressful for her, so she just sinks to the bottom of herself and lives like sediment.
Her daughter left in the night with her grandson, the only happiness she had. The daughter was angry and abusive to everyone, child included, mom included. Every room she used was filthy. It was making mom even crazier. Mom told the daughter she didn't want to live under the circumstances she was creating. Mom told her she had to start acting like an adult or get out. A thief in the night, angrily doing her worst. Daughter knows best how to hurt mother and doesn't hesitate to do it. She hates her mother and took the only thing that made mom happy. And she's laughing, I'm sure.
Mom can't make tears anymore. She's dried up. She stays alone at home while dad works. Mom's brother keeps checking on her, making sure she's still breathing. Sometimes she breathes out and it doesn't come back easily. She makes herself draw a new breath. Every minute is work, is finding an incentive to stay for the next one. Sadness is to light a word. Gravity draws harder where she steps.
We try and snuggle up with our warm kitty furs. It should be helping but she's so deep down, so weighted, I don't know if even we can pull her back up again.
I'm worried.
Perry
Being hollowed out and crisp, so light that a light breeze will blow her apart, she sits and waits for it all to end. Her uncle and aunt both killed themselves at her age. They used a .22 pistol. Mom gave away her shotgun a long time ago. There are no firearms in the house.
And she's seen what happens to families of people who kill themselves. They are hurt and angry and they never get over it. She can't do that to her family, so she's stuck here: wanting to die but not wanting to hurt her family. It's frustrating and stressful for her, so she just sinks to the bottom of herself and lives like sediment.
Her daughter left in the night with her grandson, the only happiness she had. The daughter was angry and abusive to everyone, child included, mom included. Every room she used was filthy. It was making mom even crazier. Mom told the daughter she didn't want to live under the circumstances she was creating. Mom told her she had to start acting like an adult or get out. A thief in the night, angrily doing her worst. Daughter knows best how to hurt mother and doesn't hesitate to do it. She hates her mother and took the only thing that made mom happy. And she's laughing, I'm sure.
Mom can't make tears anymore. She's dried up. She stays alone at home while dad works. Mom's brother keeps checking on her, making sure she's still breathing. Sometimes she breathes out and it doesn't come back easily. She makes herself draw a new breath. Every minute is work, is finding an incentive to stay for the next one. Sadness is to light a word. Gravity draws harder where she steps.
We try and snuggle up with our warm kitty furs. It should be helping but she's so deep down, so weighted, I don't know if even we can pull her back up again.
I'm worried.
Perry
Thursday, April 7, 2011
Cats Ask, "Are Humans Insane?"
As a cat, may I just say that you humans are totally insane? Yes. You love to drag out the drama until everyone is all in a tizzy then at the last second, do what you were going to do all along. What's the point? Stressing folks' cardiovascular systems? Are you thinking that the early deaths will lower the cost of health care?
Honestly, I'm just about fed up to my canines (an awkward name for cat teeth) with the whole lot of them up in Washington, DC. I want to point out some of the more obvious points that are being obfuscated for the purpose of dramatizing politics:
1. We have to balance the budget. Although it has been attempted, there is no legal mandate to balance the budget. And considering the amount of debt that has been built up over the last ten years, we should plan on at least that long to pay it back.
2. Unemployment is down. New claims for unemployment may be down, but many thousands of people have fallen off the back end of the unemployment insurance and still have no job (and no income) and thus are not counted. Government records show unemployment is down, but statistics, like superpowers, may be used for evil as well as good.
3. We have to cut spending. No. Government spending is not the same as personal spending. The government doesn't go to the mall and buy some new shoes and a Versaci bag. Government spending is the cause of production. Government spending is jobs.
4. Cutting taxes is good. Let's look at that. The funds that the government uses to finance itself comes from taxes. When the government creates jobs, it pays for it with taxes. When the government buys products, it pays for it with taxes. When there is assistance needed, it's tax money that helps disaster victims and the elderly and the disabled. In an economy where there are people out of work and in need, the government needs as much money as it can get to start putting more money back in circulation. To do that, you need tax money.
5. Taxes are bad. Let's look at that. Taxes pay for every single government service you folks get: fire and police protection, the health of properly run water and sewage systems, disease study and epidemic reduction, the highways system, the railroad system, airports, regulation of medications, pollution, dangerous products and workplaces, and of course, the military which provides you with your freedom. So, cutting taxes cuts the full disposition of these essential services.
6. And another thing about taxes: sales taxes generate revenue at every step of the production process. When ore is sold, taxes are paid. When it is smelted and sold, taxes are paid. When it is shaped and sold, taxes are paid. When it is milled and sold, taxes are paid. When it is made into parts, taxes are paid. When it is assembled and sold, taxes are paid. When it is sold to the end-user, taxes are paid. And all along the line the employees are getting paid and pay taxes. The lessors, utility companies, toilet makers and everyone else is making money. So if the government is suddenly not spending it's money on things, all of that revenue goes right out the window: revenue for the government and for the workers as well.
6. YOU DON'T HAVE TO CUT ANYTHING! Why is it you folks believe all that crap about having to cut social security and other benefits? You have 700 BILLION dollars sitting right there waiting for someone to go get it. All you have to do is repeal the Bush tax cut extension for the wealthiest 5% of Americans. That's all you have to do! Why are you letting those folks get richer while the entire rest of the country, including the government itself, goes bankrupt? Are you humans CRAZY?
7. I don't know how they justify it to themselves, but if Congress "shuts down the government", it is adding hundreds of thousands of workers to the unemployment totals. Think about that. The government that's supposed to be helping you, that represents you, that IS you is going to put hundreds of thousands of people out of work because they can't agree on how much money to cut out of a budget they have intentionally removed 700 Billion dollars from just so the wealthiest 5% of Americans can keep their cash.
Yes, humans are crazy.
Cats should run the world
Perry
Honestly, I'm just about fed up to my canines (an awkward name for cat teeth) with the whole lot of them up in Washington, DC. I want to point out some of the more obvious points that are being obfuscated for the purpose of dramatizing politics:
1. We have to balance the budget. Although it has been attempted, there is no legal mandate to balance the budget. And considering the amount of debt that has been built up over the last ten years, we should plan on at least that long to pay it back.
2. Unemployment is down. New claims for unemployment may be down, but many thousands of people have fallen off the back end of the unemployment insurance and still have no job (and no income) and thus are not counted. Government records show unemployment is down, but statistics, like superpowers, may be used for evil as well as good.
3. We have to cut spending. No. Government spending is not the same as personal spending. The government doesn't go to the mall and buy some new shoes and a Versaci bag. Government spending is the cause of production. Government spending is jobs.
4. Cutting taxes is good. Let's look at that. The funds that the government uses to finance itself comes from taxes. When the government creates jobs, it pays for it with taxes. When the government buys products, it pays for it with taxes. When there is assistance needed, it's tax money that helps disaster victims and the elderly and the disabled. In an economy where there are people out of work and in need, the government needs as much money as it can get to start putting more money back in circulation. To do that, you need tax money.
5. Taxes are bad. Let's look at that. Taxes pay for every single government service you folks get: fire and police protection, the health of properly run water and sewage systems, disease study and epidemic reduction, the highways system, the railroad system, airports, regulation of medications, pollution, dangerous products and workplaces, and of course, the military which provides you with your freedom. So, cutting taxes cuts the full disposition of these essential services.
6. And another thing about taxes: sales taxes generate revenue at every step of the production process. When ore is sold, taxes are paid. When it is smelted and sold, taxes are paid. When it is shaped and sold, taxes are paid. When it is milled and sold, taxes are paid. When it is made into parts, taxes are paid. When it is assembled and sold, taxes are paid. When it is sold to the end-user, taxes are paid. And all along the line the employees are getting paid and pay taxes. The lessors, utility companies, toilet makers and everyone else is making money. So if the government is suddenly not spending it's money on things, all of that revenue goes right out the window: revenue for the government and for the workers as well.
6. YOU DON'T HAVE TO CUT ANYTHING! Why is it you folks believe all that crap about having to cut social security and other benefits? You have 700 BILLION dollars sitting right there waiting for someone to go get it. All you have to do is repeal the Bush tax cut extension for the wealthiest 5% of Americans. That's all you have to do! Why are you letting those folks get richer while the entire rest of the country, including the government itself, goes bankrupt? Are you humans CRAZY?
7. I don't know how they justify it to themselves, but if Congress "shuts down the government", it is adding hundreds of thousands of workers to the unemployment totals. Think about that. The government that's supposed to be helping you, that represents you, that IS you is going to put hundreds of thousands of people out of work because they can't agree on how much money to cut out of a budget they have intentionally removed 700 Billion dollars from just so the wealthiest 5% of Americans can keep their cash.
Yes, humans are crazy.
Cats should run the world
Perry
Monday, March 21, 2011
Who Killed Jim Dove? Life and Death in the Front Yard
First, let me tell you mom's new joke. She made it up all by herself, out of frustration. Did you hear about the new Barak Obama doll?
You wind it up and it does absolutely nothing!
Now that that's out of the way,
Mom hates doves. This comes from an experience she had years ago in which she stayed at a hotel in South Texas which had a fireplace. (why there was a hotel with a fireplace in South Texas is something only crazed room designers can tell you) In that chimney were a pair of nesting doves.
Doves are just pigeons with better reputations.
Now because it's hotter than hell in South Texas, mom never used the fireplace (although she contemplated it). So all day and all night the cooing of the doves echoed maniacally up and down the chimney, day after day, night after night. Mom tried turning up the television. Didn't work. She tried waking the doves up in the middle of the night with lots of racket. That only got her a call from the management. She even stuck a broom handle up the chimney and knocked it around. Still, the doves gentle coos remained the stuff of nightmares. And they had friends.
This is also the place, by the way, where someone, trying to feed a stray cat, left out food that attracted a skunk right out under mom's stairs. It kept her from bringing in her laundry one night. She waited for three hours for the dang thing to decide to go home. Then there were several mornings when she started out to her car only to see the skunk sauntering out from under it or standing between the car and the stairs or sitting on the fender smoking a cigarette saying, "Are YOU talking to ME?"
Needless to say, as much as mom loves wildlife, she was not impressed.
So last year when a pair of doves nested outside the front door, mom was not happy. Every time she went outside she heard that cursed "coo-coo" driving into her brain. She swore at the doves and even threw sticks at them one time. Apparently this so amused the dove family that this year they brought relatives.
Yes, this year we have about eight doves in the yard, flying about, coo-cooing all over the place. Mom feels like she's in a bad Alfred Hitchcock movie. Dad thinks it's revenge of the birds. I think it's hysterical. Mom still yells at the doves when ever she goes outside. She raises her bony fists, shaking as she cries out in anger, "Get out of my damn yard you damned doves!" So, that is the set up for what happened last week.
Dad and Kemper Kitty went to Wal-Mart go get some groceries. Mom took the twenty or so minutes to have some quiet time, get a few things done withough chaos and generally enjoy the man-free environment. (I guess Christmas and I don't count) When she heard dad honk outside she went to the door to open it for them. KK walked in making gagging noises. Dad came in with groceries for mom to put away and went back out. KK went after him.
Then KK comes back in and says, "You're a BAD Mimi!" and we hear dad outside yelling, "Katie Kathleen Marie Elizabeth Fairweather you get out here right NOW!"
KK says, "Yeah, Katie Kathleen er- Mimi Fairweather, you get out here RIGHT NOW!"
Confused (as usual) mom goes outside. Dad is standing in the yard giving mom a dirty look. He says, "Katie Fairweather! Did you do this?" She looks down and sees a dead dove, breast torn asunder, still warm. She looks at dad and starts laughing maniacallly.
"NO!," she says, "But I wish I DID!" Then there were a few moments of incoherent babbling and gigglling.
"You are the one who hates doves," dad counters, "did you kill this poor little dove?"
Mom looks at the dove closely. "Nope, it looks like a cat did it."
Hold the phone! Now she's trying to blame it on us!
Then she says, "I've seen that stray yellow cat here the last few days. It must have been him."
Good, solid diversion to another plausible suspect.
"Do you think they mate for life?" Mom asks, acting all innocent?
Dad looks at her suspiciously. "Maybe."
So mom took the corpse and disposed of it in the usual manner. One final trip, clad in a bright, blue (plastic) shroud, to the dumpster.
The next day mom pulled the car up in front of the mailbox (to keep The Emily from parking there) and as she looked out the window she saw a circle of doves standing around the place where their "friend" met his maker. As she watched, they all turned their heads slowly and looked at her. Mom rolled the window down a bit and noticed there was no sound. Then they all flew up into the trees and eyed her as she walked into the house. Not a single coo was heard.
However, when she went back out to her car later, it was covered in dove poop.
You wind it up and it does absolutely nothing!
Now that that's out of the way,
Mom hates doves. This comes from an experience she had years ago in which she stayed at a hotel in South Texas which had a fireplace. (why there was a hotel with a fireplace in South Texas is something only crazed room designers can tell you) In that chimney were a pair of nesting doves.
Doves are just pigeons with better reputations.
Now because it's hotter than hell in South Texas, mom never used the fireplace (although she contemplated it). So all day and all night the cooing of the doves echoed maniacally up and down the chimney, day after day, night after night. Mom tried turning up the television. Didn't work. She tried waking the doves up in the middle of the night with lots of racket. That only got her a call from the management. She even stuck a broom handle up the chimney and knocked it around. Still, the doves gentle coos remained the stuff of nightmares. And they had friends.
This is also the place, by the way, where someone, trying to feed a stray cat, left out food that attracted a skunk right out under mom's stairs. It kept her from bringing in her laundry one night. She waited for three hours for the dang thing to decide to go home. Then there were several mornings when she started out to her car only to see the skunk sauntering out from under it or standing between the car and the stairs or sitting on the fender smoking a cigarette saying, "Are YOU talking to ME?"
Needless to say, as much as mom loves wildlife, she was not impressed.
So last year when a pair of doves nested outside the front door, mom was not happy. Every time she went outside she heard that cursed "coo-coo" driving into her brain. She swore at the doves and even threw sticks at them one time. Apparently this so amused the dove family that this year they brought relatives.
Yes, this year we have about eight doves in the yard, flying about, coo-cooing all over the place. Mom feels like she's in a bad Alfred Hitchcock movie. Dad thinks it's revenge of the birds. I think it's hysterical. Mom still yells at the doves when ever she goes outside. She raises her bony fists, shaking as she cries out in anger, "Get out of my damn yard you damned doves!" So, that is the set up for what happened last week.
Dad and Kemper Kitty went to Wal-Mart go get some groceries. Mom took the twenty or so minutes to have some quiet time, get a few things done withough chaos and generally enjoy the man-free environment. (I guess Christmas and I don't count) When she heard dad honk outside she went to the door to open it for them. KK walked in making gagging noises. Dad came in with groceries for mom to put away and went back out. KK went after him.
Then KK comes back in and says, "You're a BAD Mimi!" and we hear dad outside yelling, "Katie Kathleen Marie Elizabeth Fairweather you get out here right NOW!"
KK says, "Yeah, Katie Kathleen er- Mimi Fairweather, you get out here RIGHT NOW!"
Confused (as usual) mom goes outside. Dad is standing in the yard giving mom a dirty look. He says, "Katie Fairweather! Did you do this?" She looks down and sees a dead dove, breast torn asunder, still warm. She looks at dad and starts laughing maniacallly.
"NO!," she says, "But I wish I DID!" Then there were a few moments of incoherent babbling and gigglling.
"You are the one who hates doves," dad counters, "did you kill this poor little dove?"
Mom looks at the dove closely. "Nope, it looks like a cat did it."
Hold the phone! Now she's trying to blame it on us!
Then she says, "I've seen that stray yellow cat here the last few days. It must have been him."
Good, solid diversion to another plausible suspect.
"Do you think they mate for life?" Mom asks, acting all innocent?
Dad looks at her suspiciously. "Maybe."
So mom took the corpse and disposed of it in the usual manner. One final trip, clad in a bright, blue (plastic) shroud, to the dumpster.
The next day mom pulled the car up in front of the mailbox (to keep The Emily from parking there) and as she looked out the window she saw a circle of doves standing around the place where their "friend" met his maker. As she watched, they all turned their heads slowly and looked at her. Mom rolled the window down a bit and noticed there was no sound. Then they all flew up into the trees and eyed her as she walked into the house. Not a single coo was heard.
However, when she went back out to her car later, it was covered in dove poop.
Saturday, February 26, 2011
Pretty Tough Choices
Yesterday I heard a politician on TV tell his constituents, "We're going to have to make some pretty tough choices. He was referring to the choices between funding education, for example, or vaccinations. Or perhaps it was between repairing infrastructure and giving retirees the funds they paid into their own retirement accounts. Maybe even between paying for food for children on welfare or keeping prisons open. You never know what politicians are really thinking when they say things like that.
But you can rest assured they will not make the toughest choice of all: repealing the seven hundred billion dollar tax cut for the wealthiest 2 percent of Americans. Those folks who are so unbelievably rich that it is impossible to fathom how much money they have. People who could support hundreds of thousands of millionaires on what they earn each year. That's $700,000,000,000.00. With this money we could solve most if not many of the fiscal problems facing our government today.
But, the presumably bought and paid for politicians ask, how can we do that? Well, first we introduce a bill which states we repeal those tax cuts, then it goes through the house and senate and once it's passed both houses, the president signs it. Simple.
But, what about trickle down economics? These rich folks make the economy grow.
No, they don't. They don't spend their money. That's how they stay rich, And we're talking REALLY rich. For example, when the State of Wisconsin is struggling to keep it's education system afloat, just one of these super-wealthy, tax skipping Americans could afford to hire an entire school's worth of teachers, keep them in their own house and still make money every year. And they can buy solid gold Cadillacs, outrageously overpriced artwork, safaris to hunt endangered animals and six year old Cambodian sex slaves.
Now tell me again, why do we have to make the tough choices between rent and medicine, education and vaccination, gasoline and food? To give these people their tax cuts? So that a very few Americans can keep their seven hundred billion dollars?
Who are our politicians really working for? Obviously not us, not the middle class, not the poor... not the voters. That only leaves one group, the group who are keeping all the tax money they should be paying to the government, their fair share. Hey, we have to do it and we make the tough choices. There comes a point where you have enough money: enough to live, to play, to work, to help others. If $700,000,000,000.00 is what they owe in taxes, it means they have LOTS MORE MONEY than that.
The only tough choice I see is getting our elected officials off the payola and working for the voters again.
But you can rest assured they will not make the toughest choice of all: repealing the seven hundred billion dollar tax cut for the wealthiest 2 percent of Americans. Those folks who are so unbelievably rich that it is impossible to fathom how much money they have. People who could support hundreds of thousands of millionaires on what they earn each year. That's $700,000,000,000.00. With this money we could solve most if not many of the fiscal problems facing our government today.
But, the presumably bought and paid for politicians ask, how can we do that? Well, first we introduce a bill which states we repeal those tax cuts, then it goes through the house and senate and once it's passed both houses, the president signs it. Simple.
But, what about trickle down economics? These rich folks make the economy grow.
No, they don't. They don't spend their money. That's how they stay rich, And we're talking REALLY rich. For example, when the State of Wisconsin is struggling to keep it's education system afloat, just one of these super-wealthy, tax skipping Americans could afford to hire an entire school's worth of teachers, keep them in their own house and still make money every year. And they can buy solid gold Cadillacs, outrageously overpriced artwork, safaris to hunt endangered animals and six year old Cambodian sex slaves.
Now tell me again, why do we have to make the tough choices between rent and medicine, education and vaccination, gasoline and food? To give these people their tax cuts? So that a very few Americans can keep their seven hundred billion dollars?
Who are our politicians really working for? Obviously not us, not the middle class, not the poor... not the voters. That only leaves one group, the group who are keeping all the tax money they should be paying to the government, their fair share. Hey, we have to do it and we make the tough choices. There comes a point where you have enough money: enough to live, to play, to work, to help others. If $700,000,000,000.00 is what they owe in taxes, it means they have LOTS MORE MONEY than that.
The only tough choice I see is getting our elected officials off the payola and working for the voters again.
Wednesday, February 9, 2011
How Cold Was It?
Okay, it's February, I get it. But this is TEXAS for heaven's sakes. During the last big cold spell (last week) when y'all up north were basking in piles of snow and warm temperatures, we were colder down here every day than Chicago and Syracuse NY, Plus we had a windchill that froze your spit before it hit the ground (depending, of course, on your relative height agl). Hey, I'm not exaggerating, The Emily tried it with her friend Cat. Sadly, Cat is a human but she's pretty good as those folks go.
Today we got another cold front come through. It was 24 F when mom went out this morning. She came back at 11:00 to get more clothes on. It had dropped to 18. She drove to her class and it was 16 by the time she got there. When she got out (early because no one in their right mind would come out in that weather) it was 16. By the time she got home it was 12. Now it's 3 and the sun's still up. Jeez... and the wind's supposed to start really blowing tonight. (By the way, right now it's 12 in Chicago and 13 in NY) And they're telling us just 5-8 inches. Of snow. And this is a desert.
Hey, at least we don't live in Australia.
I sat on the windowsill for a while today laughing. The same birdies who tease me in the summer were not happy today. There were birdy butts laying all over the yard because they had been freezing them right off. Heh. My little nemeses are few and far between today, hiding where ever it is that freezing birdies go when they aren't out flaunting their freedoms to captive kitties. Uncle Jim said he saw a crow stuck in the air: too cold to fly, too stuck to fall. I like that idea. Makes them good targets. You just have to chip them out of the sky once you get them. Teach a dog to fetch that, I dare ya.
The Kemper Kitty came down with strep on Sunday. On Monday his mama took him to the doctor and they gave him antibiotics and hydrocodone for his cough. The Emily gave it to him once. For the rest of the night he bounced around the house like pinball on speed. He's not getting it again. He's bored out of his gourd and driving everyone crazy. He's painted a little cardboard house, cleaned up his toys, cleaned up his toys again (he's not at all like his mother) painted valentine boxes and generally wanders around talking and talking. (He takes after his great grand mother there) He has taken mom's mittens and put them on his feet so he can be a monkey (opposable toes). Yesterday mom opened the refrigerator and found a plush snake curled up on the cottage cheese. She said, "Why is there a snake in my refrigerator?" KK said, "Because I want to keep him warm." This week, that makes sense.
I think we should put out some bird food on the window sill. Then if they want to eat they have to get next to me. Hey, maybe it should be sitting on dry ice. Naw, wouldn't want to warm it up for them. The one good thing about these cold temperatures is that we all get to sleep on the bed with mom (and dad and KK). Mom's philosophy about cold weather is "The more, the warmier".
So keep your snakes in the refrigerator and your mittens on your feet. That makes it much easier to pick up the objects dropped by your frostbitten, unresponsive fingers. And feed your cat lots of yummy snacks so he's fat and warm under your covers.
Your Icekitty
Perry
Today we got another cold front come through. It was 24 F when mom went out this morning. She came back at 11:00 to get more clothes on. It had dropped to 18. She drove to her class and it was 16 by the time she got there. When she got out (early because no one in their right mind would come out in that weather) it was 16. By the time she got home it was 12. Now it's 3 and the sun's still up. Jeez... and the wind's supposed to start really blowing tonight. (By the way, right now it's 12 in Chicago and 13 in NY) And they're telling us just 5-8 inches. Of snow. And this is a desert.
Hey, at least we don't live in Australia.
I sat on the windowsill for a while today laughing. The same birdies who tease me in the summer were not happy today. There were birdy butts laying all over the yard because they had been freezing them right off. Heh. My little nemeses are few and far between today, hiding where ever it is that freezing birdies go when they aren't out flaunting their freedoms to captive kitties. Uncle Jim said he saw a crow stuck in the air: too cold to fly, too stuck to fall. I like that idea. Makes them good targets. You just have to chip them out of the sky once you get them. Teach a dog to fetch that, I dare ya.
The Kemper Kitty came down with strep on Sunday. On Monday his mama took him to the doctor and they gave him antibiotics and hydrocodone for his cough. The Emily gave it to him once. For the rest of the night he bounced around the house like pinball on speed. He's not getting it again. He's bored out of his gourd and driving everyone crazy. He's painted a little cardboard house, cleaned up his toys, cleaned up his toys again (he's not at all like his mother) painted valentine boxes and generally wanders around talking and talking. (He takes after his great grand mother there) He has taken mom's mittens and put them on his feet so he can be a monkey (opposable toes). Yesterday mom opened the refrigerator and found a plush snake curled up on the cottage cheese. She said, "Why is there a snake in my refrigerator?" KK said, "Because I want to keep him warm." This week, that makes sense.
I think we should put out some bird food on the window sill. Then if they want to eat they have to get next to me. Hey, maybe it should be sitting on dry ice. Naw, wouldn't want to warm it up for them. The one good thing about these cold temperatures is that we all get to sleep on the bed with mom (and dad and KK). Mom's philosophy about cold weather is "The more, the warmier".
So keep your snakes in the refrigerator and your mittens on your feet. That makes it much easier to pick up the objects dropped by your frostbitten, unresponsive fingers. And feed your cat lots of yummy snacks so he's fat and warm under your covers.
Your Icekitty
Perry
Monday, January 17, 2011
Cats and Quakers
So I've been confused and depressed. My belief systems have been on overload and my views keep changing radically. The things in life that are most important to me now are peace and quiet. And sunlight. I decided to check my beliefs again at beliefnet.
Beliefnet has been around for me for many years. Raised a Roman Catholic, sent to Catholic school under the ironically named Sisters of Mercy, my life began in the Christian Mafia: Once you're in you can't get out. You're never an ex-Catholic. You're a Backslider or a Fallen-Away Catholic. The Catholic church holds on to your soul no matter where you go. And if you go too far you are excommunicated, that is denied the privileges of the Church. However you are still a member of the Catholic church. Just not a very good one.
Then when I was dating and going to church, my best friend was getting married. I was to be her maid of honor. I was dating her fiance's ex-brother in law (I started seeing him quite a while after his six month marriage was anulled) The father of the groom who bore weight it seemed, in the local church, told the priest in no uncertain terms that he was not to perform the sacrament if I was there. The priest, never questioning his orders, told the bride who tearfully told me I couldn't come to the wedding.
After an entire life of being a good, weekly-mass attending Catholic, I was denied the attendance of a public sacrament.
I stopped going to church.
My journey since then has taken me through other Christian organized religions: Methodist, Baptist, Episcopalian, Lutheran. I find that they all have their quirks and cliques and none of the comforatable ritualism of Catholicism.
In my studies (because I love researching new things, or more specifically oldthings) I've studied the mythologies of the Greeks and Romans. The ancient religions of the Egyptians, Norsemen, Celts, Mayans, Aztec, Inca and several North American indigenous peoples. Also the myths of Latter Day Saints, Wiccans and some Yoriba Vodun.
And when I took the Beliefnet test several years ago I came out an Orthodox Quaker. Go figure.
I've read the Bible, the Lost Books of the Bible (those thrown out by the all-knowing King James), the Apochrypha (ditto), The Gospel of Thomas and other relatively supportable ex-biblical Christian works. It's more interesting what they left out, really, then what they left in and what that says about the editors.
But the most influential thing, really, has been changing my point of view. For the past four years I've been writing fiction as a cat.
Thinking as a cat puts an entirely different spin on the world. The thinking cat sees the human as a necessary evil to its comfort. While a feral cat may live freely in the wild, hunt and kill for its survival, a domestic cat lives within a community. It gives up as little freedom as possible to be taken care of. The things people worry about: shelter, clothes, feelings, love, esteem, jobs, possessions are all things about which cats don't give a fat rat's ass. Dogs see their masters as God. Cats see their as servants.
When writing as my cat (Perry Tenitiss) I see the basic flaw in the Bible. The phrase "dominion over the earth" has to be wrong. The original translation has to say "stewardship" or "care of" or "responsibility for". God supposedly created all creatures. So why would he put such a self-centered, aggressive, wasteful, greedy, filthy species in charge of all of us? Animals take what we need. We leave the rest. Humans are destructive in their very nature. Curiosity isn't always a good thing, you know. It kills cats.
Humans aren't the smartest critters on earth, either. Whales and porpoises have much larger brains. Just because they don't build houses (don't need 'em), drive cars (again: don't need 'em) or wear protective gear to explore the vast dry areas of the earth (what the hell for?) doesn't mean they are stupid. I've seen both types of animals exhibit the most coveted of all behaviors, familial love and cooperation.
So now my thoughts have turned to the preservation of creation, all creation. "Dominion" doesn't necessarily mean "Permission to Destroy". I can't see God in this. I don't see God in religions which vilify same sex couples, Muslims, Jewish people, other Christians and "pagans" (translation: not Christian). Didn't somebody once preach peace, cooperation, thought? Oh, yeah that was Jesus? Buddha? Ghandi? Handsome Lake?
I think there are too many of us. I think we should be living in smaller groups and doing more manual labor. How can we connect with our God-given earth if we are not a part of it?
And so I took the test again today. I've changed. Now my beliefs are like those of a Liberal Quaker.
I must find some of these people and hear what they have to say.
And, of course, eat more oatmeal
Beliefnet has been around for me for many years. Raised a Roman Catholic, sent to Catholic school under the ironically named Sisters of Mercy, my life began in the Christian Mafia: Once you're in you can't get out. You're never an ex-Catholic. You're a Backslider or a Fallen-Away Catholic. The Catholic church holds on to your soul no matter where you go. And if you go too far you are excommunicated, that is denied the privileges of the Church. However you are still a member of the Catholic church. Just not a very good one.
Then when I was dating and going to church, my best friend was getting married. I was to be her maid of honor. I was dating her fiance's ex-brother in law (I started seeing him quite a while after his six month marriage was anulled) The father of the groom who bore weight it seemed, in the local church, told the priest in no uncertain terms that he was not to perform the sacrament if I was there. The priest, never questioning his orders, told the bride who tearfully told me I couldn't come to the wedding.
After an entire life of being a good, weekly-mass attending Catholic, I was denied the attendance of a public sacrament.
I stopped going to church.
My journey since then has taken me through other Christian organized religions: Methodist, Baptist, Episcopalian, Lutheran. I find that they all have their quirks and cliques and none of the comforatable ritualism of Catholicism.
In my studies (because I love researching new things, or more specifically oldthings) I've studied the mythologies of the Greeks and Romans. The ancient religions of the Egyptians, Norsemen, Celts, Mayans, Aztec, Inca and several North American indigenous peoples. Also the myths of Latter Day Saints, Wiccans and some Yoriba Vodun.
And when I took the Beliefnet test several years ago I came out an Orthodox Quaker. Go figure.
I've read the Bible, the Lost Books of the Bible (those thrown out by the all-knowing King James), the Apochrypha (ditto), The Gospel of Thomas and other relatively supportable ex-biblical Christian works. It's more interesting what they left out, really, then what they left in and what that says about the editors.
But the most influential thing, really, has been changing my point of view. For the past four years I've been writing fiction as a cat.
Thinking as a cat puts an entirely different spin on the world. The thinking cat sees the human as a necessary evil to its comfort. While a feral cat may live freely in the wild, hunt and kill for its survival, a domestic cat lives within a community. It gives up as little freedom as possible to be taken care of. The things people worry about: shelter, clothes, feelings, love, esteem, jobs, possessions are all things about which cats don't give a fat rat's ass. Dogs see their masters as God. Cats see their as servants.
When writing as my cat (Perry Tenitiss) I see the basic flaw in the Bible. The phrase "dominion over the earth" has to be wrong. The original translation has to say "stewardship" or "care of" or "responsibility for". God supposedly created all creatures. So why would he put such a self-centered, aggressive, wasteful, greedy, filthy species in charge of all of us? Animals take what we need. We leave the rest. Humans are destructive in their very nature. Curiosity isn't always a good thing, you know. It kills cats.
Humans aren't the smartest critters on earth, either. Whales and porpoises have much larger brains. Just because they don't build houses (don't need 'em), drive cars (again: don't need 'em) or wear protective gear to explore the vast dry areas of the earth (what the hell for?) doesn't mean they are stupid. I've seen both types of animals exhibit the most coveted of all behaviors, familial love and cooperation.
So now my thoughts have turned to the preservation of creation, all creation. "Dominion" doesn't necessarily mean "Permission to Destroy". I can't see God in this. I don't see God in religions which vilify same sex couples, Muslims, Jewish people, other Christians and "pagans" (translation: not Christian). Didn't somebody once preach peace, cooperation, thought? Oh, yeah that was Jesus? Buddha? Ghandi? Handsome Lake?
I think there are too many of us. I think we should be living in smaller groups and doing more manual labor. How can we connect with our God-given earth if we are not a part of it?
And so I took the test again today. I've changed. Now my beliefs are like those of a Liberal Quaker.
I must find some of these people and hear what they have to say.
And, of course, eat more oatmeal
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