Little Bobby isn't crazy. He just listens to heavy metal music too much.
Little Janie isn't cruel. She just sits too close to the TV.
Mr. Smith didn't know what to do because he was neglected as a child.
Ms. Jones didn't mean to be careless but the baby wouldn't stop crying.
Have you ever felt like you were the only responsible person on the planet?
I'll be the first to admit that hindsight is always 20/20 and that judging a situation from a birds-eye view gives one an unfair advantage but geeeeeez I am really getting tired of seeing people NOT stepping up to the podium and saying "this is all on me. I did this. I am fully to blame for what happened."
It's so much easier to deflect that glaring hot spotlight. "This is all on me. I did this. I am fully to blame for what happened" is all too often followed by a single word.
But.
"but I haven't slept in more than a week." "but I didn't FEEL drunk." "but I didn't think people would believe me so I just didn't say anything." "but I didn't think anyone would notice the money was missing." It starts out about someone else getting the short end of the stick but then the responsible party turns the spotlight back on themselves as being the unsung victim.
From mothers to murderers to friends to fathers, from coaches and co-eds, bullies and braggarts, robbers and rapists, and every other kind of so-called "misunderstood" human who has ever gone haywire. The most miserable wretch ... the lowest form of homosapien ... the weakest link on the ladder that is the genetic code that creates every man or woman ........ they do something incredibly stupid or terrifically horrible and expect to be shown pity or leniency or mercy that they were unable (or unwilling) to show to their victim.
Mahatma Gandhi is credited for saying "an eye for an eye makes the whole world blind". Gandhi is also credited for this: "There have been tyrants, and murderers, and for a time they can seem invincible, but in the end they always fall. Think of it -- always."
If it makes you feel any better, even Gandhi had limits ... this is also his: "I believe in equality for everyone, except reporters and photographers."
Tuesday, July 24, 2012
Tuesday, July 17, 2012
The Cat Burglar
Well it seems we have a cat burglar in our neighborhood. Not just "in our neighborhood", actually, but in our home. Right now, in fact. I can even identify this cat burglar.
We once called him "White Kitty".
Now we call him "Murphy".
Since the great Summer power outage of 2012, Murphy has called our downstairs his home, his bachelor pad, his very own man ... er ... cat cave. Now that he lives under our roof with us, I've learned a few things about him.
(1) He's strong. When I hold Shiloh, I'm aware she weighs more than a cat should, but it's not "solid" weight - it's fluffy and soft. Holding Murphy feels like you're holding a solid muscle. He's buffed out. If he lived on the beach, he'd be working out every day.
(2) He's inquisitive like cats are, but very timid. He wants to see what is going on, but it also terrifies him. He wants to play with his "fish on a line" toy, but the noise it makes freaks him out. He wants to meet the other kitties in the house, but he doesn't know anything about cats.
(3) He's VERY nocturnal. From the time I leave for work to the time I come home, it appears that he sleeps. He also sleeps from the time I arrive at home until about 9pm. At 9pm, he's as pleasant, as cuddly, as wonderful as any cat can be. It kills me that I can't stay up with him until midnight or so just to hang out with him.
************
A weekend or so ago, the Awesome Fiance and I went to our favorite frame shop to drop off some art and then to the store for a few things. Having just recovered from the power outage, we needed to restock. Shiloh was, as usual for that time of day, sound asleep in her room. Tabby had the run of the upstairs and Murphy had the run of the downstairs. (Caring for three cats that either don't know or don't like or can't be trusted enough to be left together can be a REAL pain.)
We returned a few hours later. Knowing that Murphy could easily be waiting by the door and could maybe dart outside, I went in first. After a brief glance at the bottom and top of the stairs to see if it was "Murphy-free", I pushed open the door at the top of the stairs which leads to our kitchen. I rounded the corner and noticed a bit of Tabby-colored fur. This time of year, it's not unusual to find a tumbleweed of kitty fur, but as I looked further, I noticed another small fluffy clump ... and then a third and fourth. "Uh oh" I muttered. I glanced into the living room, expecting to see Tabby somewhere but, instead was met with a lovely pair of large, bright blue eyes.
Murphy was sitting on the chair, waiting like a character from The Godfather. He was expecting me. A glance at his coat seemed to indicate no obvious injuries. I turned back to the kitchen and was met with a lovely pair of even larger, bright green eyes.
Tabby was sitting under the table. She seemed to have an expression full of questions on her fuzzy face. "What IS that? How did it get in? What the hell IS that???" These were good questions. How DID he get upstairs? By this time, the Awesome Fiance was in the kitchen, too. He was ... un-amused. I escorted Tabby past Murphy (who was still waiting for me while he sat on his chair) and we went to our bedroom. Tabby was completely pissed off as she stomped by Murphy for a brief exchange of words, but she was, at least, uninjured. Just upset. "No seriously - what the hell WAS that thing?" she seemed to continue to ask me as I checked her out and tried to calm her down.
I went back to the living room to Murphy, who had two tiny Tabby-sized claw marks on his nose, and we went downstairs. I pushed the kitchen door to allow us downstairs and, for a brief second, thought "he opened this??? but ... no ... it's a heavy swinging door. He'd have to run fast after opening it or it'd start to close on him." We sat downstairs and, after a moment, Murphy went to a favorite spot to hide away and nap.
************
Since that event, I've envisioned (in almost cartoon fashion) what this must have been like to see: Murphy cautiously darting up the stairs after he is sure we'd left. Tabby sniffing under the door and then walking into the living room for a nap. Murphy hearing Tabby and pushing against the door, not realizing that it'd open and then, when seeing it would, butting his head against it until he flopped through. The door closing behind him - locking him in and sealing his fate. Tabby, alarmed by the commotion, re-enters the kitchen and they exchange looks. Murphy tiptoeing past Tabby, while she yells at him for breaking and entering. Shiloh waking up and demanding to know what's going on. Murphy turning his head in Shiloh's direction and then turning to Tabby, who smacks him in the face and squarely on the nose. Murphy telling Tabby to knock it off, causing Tabby to purposely fluff her fur in an effort to look larger than she is. Murphy scrambling onto the living room chair, not daring to reenter the kitchen where Tabby is still yelling and not able to hide in the hallway where he's hearing Shiloh. He sits, trapped in the chair. Tabby sits in the kitchen, trapped by Murphy's location. Shiloh, having missed the excitement, is bummed out and goes back to bed. We return home to witness the aftermath and wonder about the goings-on.
But today, some of it came true in an even funnier fashion. As I was washing his breakfast bowl out, I noticed a noise behind me. I glanced to my right and saw the kitchen door swinging closed, and then open again as it was being pushed by a strong, muscular, all-white paw.
Oh he IS a smart ninja kitty, he is.
We once called him "White Kitty".
Now we call him "Murphy".
Since the great Summer power outage of 2012, Murphy has called our downstairs his home, his bachelor pad, his very own man ... er ... cat cave. Now that he lives under our roof with us, I've learned a few things about him.
(1) He's strong. When I hold Shiloh, I'm aware she weighs more than a cat should, but it's not "solid" weight - it's fluffy and soft. Holding Murphy feels like you're holding a solid muscle. He's buffed out. If he lived on the beach, he'd be working out every day.
(2) He's inquisitive like cats are, but very timid. He wants to see what is going on, but it also terrifies him. He wants to play with his "fish on a line" toy, but the noise it makes freaks him out. He wants to meet the other kitties in the house, but he doesn't know anything about cats.
(3) He's VERY nocturnal. From the time I leave for work to the time I come home, it appears that he sleeps. He also sleeps from the time I arrive at home until about 9pm. At 9pm, he's as pleasant, as cuddly, as wonderful as any cat can be. It kills me that I can't stay up with him until midnight or so just to hang out with him.
************
A weekend or so ago, the Awesome Fiance and I went to our favorite frame shop to drop off some art and then to the store for a few things. Having just recovered from the power outage, we needed to restock. Shiloh was, as usual for that time of day, sound asleep in her room. Tabby had the run of the upstairs and Murphy had the run of the downstairs. (Caring for three cats that either don't know or don't like or can't be trusted enough to be left together can be a REAL pain.)
We returned a few hours later. Knowing that Murphy could easily be waiting by the door and could maybe dart outside, I went in first. After a brief glance at the bottom and top of the stairs to see if it was "Murphy-free", I pushed open the door at the top of the stairs which leads to our kitchen. I rounded the corner and noticed a bit of Tabby-colored fur. This time of year, it's not unusual to find a tumbleweed of kitty fur, but as I looked further, I noticed another small fluffy clump ... and then a third and fourth. "Uh oh" I muttered. I glanced into the living room, expecting to see Tabby somewhere but, instead was met with a lovely pair of large, bright blue eyes.
Murphy was sitting on the chair, waiting like a character from The Godfather. He was expecting me. A glance at his coat seemed to indicate no obvious injuries. I turned back to the kitchen and was met with a lovely pair of even larger, bright green eyes.
Tabby was sitting under the table. She seemed to have an expression full of questions on her fuzzy face. "What IS that? How did it get in? What the hell IS that???" These were good questions. How DID he get upstairs? By this time, the Awesome Fiance was in the kitchen, too. He was ... un-amused. I escorted Tabby past Murphy (who was still waiting for me while he sat on his chair) and we went to our bedroom. Tabby was completely pissed off as she stomped by Murphy for a brief exchange of words, but she was, at least, uninjured. Just upset. "No seriously - what the hell WAS that thing?" she seemed to continue to ask me as I checked her out and tried to calm her down.
I went back to the living room to Murphy, who had two tiny Tabby-sized claw marks on his nose, and we went downstairs. I pushed the kitchen door to allow us downstairs and, for a brief second, thought "he opened this??? but ... no ... it's a heavy swinging door. He'd have to run fast after opening it or it'd start to close on him." We sat downstairs and, after a moment, Murphy went to a favorite spot to hide away and nap.
************
Since that event, I've envisioned (in almost cartoon fashion) what this must have been like to see: Murphy cautiously darting up the stairs after he is sure we'd left. Tabby sniffing under the door and then walking into the living room for a nap. Murphy hearing Tabby and pushing against the door, not realizing that it'd open and then, when seeing it would, butting his head against it until he flopped through. The door closing behind him - locking him in and sealing his fate. Tabby, alarmed by the commotion, re-enters the kitchen and they exchange looks. Murphy tiptoeing past Tabby, while she yells at him for breaking and entering. Shiloh waking up and demanding to know what's going on. Murphy turning his head in Shiloh's direction and then turning to Tabby, who smacks him in the face and squarely on the nose. Murphy telling Tabby to knock it off, causing Tabby to purposely fluff her fur in an effort to look larger than she is. Murphy scrambling onto the living room chair, not daring to reenter the kitchen where Tabby is still yelling and not able to hide in the hallway where he's hearing Shiloh. He sits, trapped in the chair. Tabby sits in the kitchen, trapped by Murphy's location. Shiloh, having missed the excitement, is bummed out and goes back to bed. We return home to witness the aftermath and wonder about the goings-on.
But today, some of it came true in an even funnier fashion. As I was washing his breakfast bowl out, I noticed a noise behind me. I glanced to my right and saw the kitchen door swinging closed, and then open again as it was being pushed by a strong, muscular, all-white paw.
Oh he IS a smart ninja kitty, he is.
Friday, July 6, 2012
Un Gatto Racconto
Cast of Characters:
The Scene:
It is Summer in a suburb somewhere on the East Coast. Several States are in the grasp of a heatwave that will crush long-standing records. To add insult to injury, more than 1,000,000 homes have been without power for several days following a freakishly strong storm and there is no official word when electricity will be restored. The home where the scene is set is one such residence. Power was lost on Friday at 11:10pm. It is now Monday at 4:45am. With no air conditioning available, Tabby and Murphy were relocated to the relative cool of the basement, which was divided into separate, single feline "rooms" to prevent any arguments.
Action:
Female Human, asleep in bed above the basement, wakens to hear what may be distant sounds of a cat yowling. She slowly trudges through the home and makes her way down the stairs, expecting to see chaos but, instead, is greeted by calm.
Puzzled, female human slowly reviews the room and locks eyes with an innocent-looking Tabby. With no obvious signs of trauma, female human then advances to see into the second "room", where she is greeted with an equally innocent-looking Murphy.
Realizing that there is no problem, female human then turns to trudge back upstairs but, before she's left the area, hears Tabby rather emphatically say "meeeeeowww".
A beat goes by.
Murphy then responds with an equally meaningful "meeeeeowww".
Next from Tabby is "merrrowww".
Murphy counters with his own "merrrowww".
Confused but with no action required, female human makes her way back up the stairs, through the home and back into the bedroom.
Male Human stirs as female human crawls back into the bed. "Everything alright?" he sleepily asks. "Mmmmhmmm" says female human. "They weren't fighting then?" male human continues. "No" she responds.
Silence falls over the room.
Then female human adds "Tabby was just teaching Murphy a bunch of Italian swear words."
 |
| Tabby (also "Tabitha", "Mathilda ", "Meow") |
 |
| Murphy (also "Murph", "White Kitty") |
The Scene:
It is Summer in a suburb somewhere on the East Coast. Several States are in the grasp of a heatwave that will crush long-standing records. To add insult to injury, more than 1,000,000 homes have been without power for several days following a freakishly strong storm and there is no official word when electricity will be restored. The home where the scene is set is one such residence. Power was lost on Friday at 11:10pm. It is now Monday at 4:45am. With no air conditioning available, Tabby and Murphy were relocated to the relative cool of the basement, which was divided into separate, single feline "rooms" to prevent any arguments.
Action:
Female Human, asleep in bed above the basement, wakens to hear what may be distant sounds of a cat yowling. She slowly trudges through the home and makes her way down the stairs, expecting to see chaos but, instead, is greeted by calm.
Puzzled, female human slowly reviews the room and locks eyes with an innocent-looking Tabby. With no obvious signs of trauma, female human then advances to see into the second "room", where she is greeted with an equally innocent-looking Murphy.
Realizing that there is no problem, female human then turns to trudge back upstairs but, before she's left the area, hears Tabby rather emphatically say "meeeeeowww".
A beat goes by.
Murphy then responds with an equally meaningful "meeeeeowww".
Next from Tabby is "merrrowww".
Murphy counters with his own "merrrowww".
Confused but with no action required, female human makes her way back up the stairs, through the home and back into the bedroom.
Male Human stirs as female human crawls back into the bed. "Everything alright?" he sleepily asks. "Mmmmhmmm" says female human. "They weren't fighting then?" male human continues. "No" she responds.
Silence falls over the room.
Then female human adds "Tabby was just teaching Murphy a bunch of Italian swear words."
Thursday, July 5, 2012
More FMD 2012 Fruit Pics
I've already posted a few pics of the fruit we're using for jam (link). Well, as is often the case, I should have ended that post with "... but wait - there's more!"
Those are yellow cherries. No, not Rainiers, which always have some blush on them but these are straight-up yellow. I've seen them referred to as "Stone Harvest Gold" cherries, but who knows. They're a nice balance between tart and sweet and they made GREAT jam. I hope we find them again next year.
These are, of course, blueberries. See how some of them have stems? Yeah, well before we jammed them, we picked through each berry to remove those stems. There were over 20 pounds of berries, by the way. Ponder that when you're enjoying this on toast, ok? We didn't just slap these guys together - each berry gets inspected. THAT's why I don't "sell" FMD jam. I'd have to charge way too much. (Note "sell" is in quote marks there. This year, there will be a way to donate anything you'd like to contribute to a worthy, fully tax-deductible cause very close to my heart. More on that later ...)
Raspberries. I just love 'em - maybe even more than strawberries. The ONLY drawback are the seeds. So these are also inspected piece by piece to make sure that there are no leaves or cores and then I split the quantity in half and remove the seeds of one pile by pushing them through a sieve. Or, at least, that's what I *used* to do. This year, thanks to The Awesome Fiance, we used the Kitchen Aid mixer with a strainer attachment and geez - it did the task in just under an hour (and yes, that's a huge improvement).
Unfortunately there is no such shortcut for blackberries. See how those raspberries above are hollow? And see how these lovely blackberries aren't? Well, while there's no reason to de-seed a blackberry, I do take the time to remove those cores. It's just for looks, mostly. If ya' don't remove the core, they can look like little white worms and ... well ... yeah, that's just not cool. So we purchased close to 19 pounds of blackberries and once again, each one was inspected and cores were removed. It's ok, really. I don't mind. I don't like creating something half-way great so if it means a few extra hours, so be it.
There will be more fruit pictures soon ... but that should cover things for now.
Those are yellow cherries. No, not Rainiers, which always have some blush on them but these are straight-up yellow. I've seen them referred to as "Stone Harvest Gold" cherries, but who knows. They're a nice balance between tart and sweet and they made GREAT jam. I hope we find them again next year.
These are, of course, blueberries. See how some of them have stems? Yeah, well before we jammed them, we picked through each berry to remove those stems. There were over 20 pounds of berries, by the way. Ponder that when you're enjoying this on toast, ok? We didn't just slap these guys together - each berry gets inspected. THAT's why I don't "sell" FMD jam. I'd have to charge way too much. (Note "sell" is in quote marks there. This year, there will be a way to donate anything you'd like to contribute to a worthy, fully tax-deductible cause very close to my heart. More on that later ...)
Raspberries. I just love 'em - maybe even more than strawberries. The ONLY drawback are the seeds. So these are also inspected piece by piece to make sure that there are no leaves or cores and then I split the quantity in half and remove the seeds of one pile by pushing them through a sieve. Or, at least, that's what I *used* to do. This year, thanks to The Awesome Fiance, we used the Kitchen Aid mixer with a strainer attachment and geez - it did the task in just under an hour (and yes, that's a huge improvement).
Unfortunately there is no such shortcut for blackberries. See how those raspberries above are hollow? And see how these lovely blackberries aren't? Well, while there's no reason to de-seed a blackberry, I do take the time to remove those cores. It's just for looks, mostly. If ya' don't remove the core, they can look like little white worms and ... well ... yeah, that's just not cool. So we purchased close to 19 pounds of blackberries and once again, each one was inspected and cores were removed. It's ok, really. I don't mind. I don't like creating something half-way great so if it means a few extra hours, so be it.
There will be more fruit pictures soon ... but that should cover things for now.
Monday, July 2, 2012
Go To Hell
It could be worse.
No one is on fire.
No one is shooting at me.
No limbs are at risk.
No lives are at stake.
I embrace that. Really, I do. I am now, and have always been, the glass-size-is fine type. I have found silver linings in the darkest things. (Health issues? Thank heavens for well-informed doctors. Car troubles? Automobiles are a luxury. Airplane delay? Travel is amazing in this century and airports are great for people-watching. Bad hair day? What a cute hat!)
Along with a good portion of the state, The Awesome Fiance and I lost our electricity late Friday evening. It was hoooooooooooooot that day. We scrambled Saturday morning, calling vets to see about boarding the cats (no dice - no power there, either), rearranged the entire house to move the felines into the basement (yay! moving hot, angry cats to strange parts of the home is sweaty work!), picked up dry ice for our home (and two others), adjusted our whole weekend plan (more jam-making) and tried to keep our heads on straight. We skipped dinner (it was too hot to eat) and spent the night in two different homes (notice I didn't say we SLEPT in different homes ... there was very little sleeping where I was due to bouncy kitties and a not-comfortable sleeping surface). Sunday morning started early with setting up a generator to power the bare essentials in three homes (not including air conditioning unfortunately) and lots of sitting in the dark trying too not notice it was 87 degrees inside the house before Noon.
Oh - and our air conditioner was having issues last weekend, too, so this was the second weekend in a row with too-much in-home heat.
And I drank a big gulp of sour milk (accidentally). And got chewed up by mosquitoes. And The Awesome Fiance walked into the corner of a dresser and bruised the heck out of his arm. And we sweated. A lot.
By Sunday mid-day, we were done with it. We went out for lunch and to a bookstore - mostly for the indoor cool air. We reluctantly headed back home and re-rearranged the feline population, recognizing it was too warm inside for them to be too angry at each other. The house properly trashed (boxes everywhere, hastily arranged drapes, cardboard blockades in stairwells), we gave up by 9:30pm and tried to get *some* rest.
So of course the power popped back on at 10pm.
Thus began the un-trashing of the house, the un-hooking of the generator, the re-re-rearrangement of the now totally over it felines. Showers were taken, fans were strategically placed and by Midnight, we were nearly back to normal. I awoke at 4:45am to relocate the final feline (once the air conditioning had done the trick upstairs) and pretty much was up from that point onwards ... just in time for work.
So go ahead and tell me to be grateful that the power is restored (I am) and that the air conditioning is even available (of course). Remind me that there huge wild fires eating up a good portion of Colorado (I'm aware of that) and that we're lucky our water service was never interrupted (I agree).
And I will still tell you to kindly shut the fuck up.
No one is on fire.
No one is shooting at me.
No limbs are at risk.
No lives are at stake.
I embrace that. Really, I do. I am now, and have always been, the glass-size-is fine type. I have found silver linings in the darkest things. (Health issues? Thank heavens for well-informed doctors. Car troubles? Automobiles are a luxury. Airplane delay? Travel is amazing in this century and airports are great for people-watching. Bad hair day? What a cute hat!)
Along with a good portion of the state, The Awesome Fiance and I lost our electricity late Friday evening. It was hoooooooooooooot that day. We scrambled Saturday morning, calling vets to see about boarding the cats (no dice - no power there, either), rearranged the entire house to move the felines into the basement (yay! moving hot, angry cats to strange parts of the home is sweaty work!), picked up dry ice for our home (and two others), adjusted our whole weekend plan (more jam-making) and tried to keep our heads on straight. We skipped dinner (it was too hot to eat) and spent the night in two different homes (notice I didn't say we SLEPT in different homes ... there was very little sleeping where I was due to bouncy kitties and a not-comfortable sleeping surface). Sunday morning started early with setting up a generator to power the bare essentials in three homes (not including air conditioning unfortunately) and lots of sitting in the dark trying too not notice it was 87 degrees inside the house before Noon.
Oh - and our air conditioner was having issues last weekend, too, so this was the second weekend in a row with too-much in-home heat.
And I drank a big gulp of sour milk (accidentally). And got chewed up by mosquitoes. And The Awesome Fiance walked into the corner of a dresser and bruised the heck out of his arm. And we sweated. A lot.
By Sunday mid-day, we were done with it. We went out for lunch and to a bookstore - mostly for the indoor cool air. We reluctantly headed back home and re-rearranged the feline population, recognizing it was too warm inside for them to be too angry at each other. The house properly trashed (boxes everywhere, hastily arranged drapes, cardboard blockades in stairwells), we gave up by 9:30pm and tried to get *some* rest.
So of course the power popped back on at 10pm.
Thus began the un-trashing of the house, the un-hooking of the generator, the re-re-rearrangement of the now totally over it felines. Showers were taken, fans were strategically placed and by Midnight, we were nearly back to normal. I awoke at 4:45am to relocate the final feline (once the air conditioning had done the trick upstairs) and pretty much was up from that point onwards ... just in time for work.
So go ahead and tell me to be grateful that the power is restored (I am) and that the air conditioning is even available (of course). Remind me that there huge wild fires eating up a good portion of Colorado (I'm aware of that) and that we're lucky our water service was never interrupted (I agree).
And I will still tell you to kindly shut the fuck up.
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