Vote early ... and often

I have been a voter since the day I legally could register to do so. Even when the choices were slim, I would vote for whomever I felt would do the least damage. (Sadly, sometimes that IS the only way to chose a candidate.) I'm a HUGE believer in being a part, no matter how small, in the process, no matter how broken. Ya' don't earn the right to bitch if you didn't use your right to vote.

So when my ballot appeared in the mail not that long ago, I noticed right away that there were no listings in the "President of the United States" area. I did my homework, and found that since I'd registered as "none of your dang business", the ballot would not allow me to vote for whomever I'd want to lead my country. Which, when I considered the 240 hours of volunteer clean-up work I'd done in the past two years under the current administration, felt like a big ol "thanks for nuttin'" kind of a thing to do.

So I found the appropriate instructions to get a ballot that WOULD allow me to vote for "da Prez", and waited. Sure 'nuf, in about two weeks, here's my new and improved ballot - which includes the names of folks that have since dropped out. (NOT the fault of the printers, folks lagging way behind often *do* drop out. It's my job, as in informed voter, to keep up on these things.)

Anyway so things were all taken care of, yes? Well on Tuesday, I went to my office and had a message from the local voter registration folks asking for me to contact them - which I did. "So we wanted to make sure you got the ballot you requested. Did you?" I assured them that I had. They asked what I did with the previous ballot.

Since I had NO intention of using it, I used it to test the blades of some knives I'd just had rehoned and sharpened. And, since I know that not everyone on the planet would actually buy this as an answer (even 'tho it was the truth), I just said that I had shreadded it. (Truth be told, I did shread it. The ballot is a heavier weight paper and it worked GREAT to test my knives.) "What's that you say? You never got it?" said the voice on the other end of the phone.

"No", I said. "I shreadded it. Myself. Tore it all up and tossed it away." "Strange that you didn't receive the first one", said the woman - which is when it dawned on me that she wanted me to play with her. "Right - yeah, I thought so too but nope, just never got one. I have this one now, 'tho so we're all good."

And I thought we were.

Friday, as I was working from home, the mail arrived. And with it, another ballot. This one also includes the options for President. Unfortunately, a quick scan showed all the same names. (I was hoping perhaps that someone new had shown up and that they'd be "the obvious choice".)

Anyway, I guess I just never realized how much my city has in common with Chicago.

Gimme my damn cake.

Maybe I'm just asking for too much.

I want my pets. I want my comforts. I want familiar territory where I know all the backroads and shortcuts. I want the surroundings and the sounds and the faces and the weather and all the little details that are the touchstones I grew up with. I want my friends, my family, my coworkers, my grocery clerk, my mechanic, my postman, my hairdresser, my parking lot attendant, my vet, my doctor, and my dentist to accept and fully understand what I have yet to explain to myself. I want to snap my fingers and have everything adjusted, yet remain "as is". I want to change it all, without disappointing a soul. I want to hurt no one. Oh, and I wanna know ... not because of verbage but absolutely KNOW ... that this is the best thing for all concerned.

I don't just want my cake to eat the damn thing. I want my cake so that I can eat it and still not gain an ounce.
No wonder this feels greedy.

Best fishes for a quick recovery

Cats purr when they're in pain. It's true. When cats are cornered, in despair, or physically in pain, they will purr. See, it's we humans that noticed that cats purr when they're content so we always associate purring with being happy and safe, but a cat in pain, or even just in danger, will purr.

And it's not that strange, if you stop and think about what cat-loving humans do when we hear a purr. Typically, we slow down and enjoy the sound. We'll smile, or take a deep breath, and just enjoy the sound. Well that's what a cat is doing - trying to calm down and manage things. Much like some folks have a mantra they use to regain their composure, a cat will purr to do the same thing. Heck - humans cry when we're sad, or in pain, or yes, when we're happy or overwhelmed, so it's a similar reaction.

I mention this whole "why cats purr" thing because I had to take Hobbes in for dental work yesterday morning. He got four of his tiny little teeth removed (they were causing him pain), and came home very hungry, groggy, and not very amused about his left arm having been shaved (to allow for the IV during his procedure). He has pain management and recovery medications that I'll be giving to him over the next several days, which in and of itself should be quite amusing/frustrating for both of us.

At 4am, he came strolling into the bedroom and was purring so loudly he woke me up from a very sound sleep. He kept at it for about 4 minutes until it dawned on me that he was asking for relief, not expressing his gratitude for being home.

It's about 1:30pm now and I'm watching him as he rests on the couch. He keeps one eye open to watch Minnie, who is curled up on the footstool. I don't know how long a cats memory goes back, but I hope he soon forgets the trauma of yesterday's visit to his vet. I'd rather he think of how warm, safe, and pain-free he is right now. And I hope he's purring.