Kitty kitty kitty

You hear people say all the time that people resemble their pets. This always to me bring about images of stocky men in bowler hats walking broad chested English bulldogs, or women wearing $700 shoes and smothered in diamonds carrying a little yappy purse dog with a diamond studded collar. In my head though I always associate this with people and their dogs, not their cats.

I am not really sure why I have this particular mind set. I am a cat person so one would think I would go to cats before dogs in my mind, but I don't. I always think of dogs and not cats. It isn't that I think cats are devoid of character, if anything I think they can have more character than most. I mean seriously if you have ever owned a cat you know how true this is.

I suppose it is because I have never really seen anything of myself in my cats. We own three cats. The youngest, Miss Etta James, is really our cat whereas the other two cats most certainly belong to one of the two of us. Etta has not thus far chosen between the husbeast and me. She seems to like us both pretty equally. Actually I think she likes the kid most, maybe she is really her cat and just living with us.

MuShu is the husbeasts cat. She has been from the moment we saw her. He picked her up and the first thing this tiny little kitten did was reach up and put a paw on either side of his nose and proceed to lick his nose. He melted. I paid the nice lady from the ASPCA. There is never any doubt that he is her thumb slave and I am simply tolerated.

My pretty baby boy.

It is fine with me that MuShu is his, because Pigwidgeon is mine. Pig is the oldest of our cats. We got him just before we hit our one year anniversary of dating. He has been my sweet baby boy from the day we brought him home from the shelter. He was nothing but fluff and head back then. The husbeast used to joke that he was going to tip forward from his head being so damned big.

He has always been an incredibly smart cat. He figured out quickly how to trick everyone in the house into feeding him. It took us a couple of months to figure out why we were going through cat food so fast and why he was so fat. Feeding him five times a day will do that.

He also figured out how to open doors early on. We used to find him hiding in cabinets all the time. Whenever he got startled he would run and open a kitchen cabinet, run inside, and reach out to swing the door shut behind him. We had to start placing heavy objects in front of the bedroom door at night early on to keep him from escaping. He has taught this trick to the other cats.

He is starting to get old though. He will be 12 next summer and I am well aware that this is about the age that cats start having health problems and age issues. Thus far the only signs of his aging has been him becoming a little more grump about everything. He has no problem very loudly displaying his displeasure with everything. Even when you pet him he will let you know he is a cranky old man.

Last week he started to sneeze and sniffle a lot. I didn't think much of it until I realized he wasn't eating. This cat lives to eat, so I knew he was sick. The vet said it was just a head cold and gave me an antibiotic for him. He said that cats don't like to eat what they can't smell and he should be fine in a week or so.

So this past week we have been babying the old man. He has been allowed to sleep where he wants, he is getting his own can of food a few times a day to go with his medicine, he has been getting extra skritches and cuddles, and no one is yelling at him when he makes a lot of noise. He is being treated so well because we love him and he is not well, but really it helps that he looks so pathetic that no one with any heart could be mean to him right now.

Seriously this is the most pathetic sick cat ever. The first day after he started his meds he just sort of lay in one spot all day long. The husbeast picked him up to give him his dropper of medicine and he barely put up a fight. After the meds were done I brought him a dish of food and he just barely raised his head up enough to get his mouth in the bowl. He didn't even try to stand up to get the food, he just let me sort of hand feed him.

It was at this exact moment in time I realized my cat and I are exactly the same. Sure there are lots of things about us that are similar; I am smart and clever, he is smart and clever, I love food, he loves food, I can be very vocal, he can be very vocal. All of that aside though, we are both ridiculously pathetic when we don't feel good. I mentioned this to the husbeast and he laughed as he agreed with me.

Thankfully he is on the mend. His head is still full of snot but he is up and moving around acting more spry. He has figured out that medicine means a can of food so he is less pathetic around medicine time and more eager. This all makes me happy. He may be getting old and grumpy but he will always be my sweet little fur baby.

99 Red Balloons

There are moments in your life that happen and are uniquely profound in the simplicity of the moment. Images that strike you as so beautiful without reason that is almost hurts. Things that should mean nothing at all but still touch you to the very center of your soul. Nothingness that is all consuming.

If you have ever seen the movie American Beauty there is a scene where the weird neighbor kid is showing the girl next door a video he shot of a plastic grocery bag caught in a little whirl wind. The video is just nothing but watching this bag dance on the wind, skipping across the ground before leaping into the air once more in this graceful ballet.

The kid pontificates about the beauty in the moment. He goes on and on about how it just caught his eye and he couldn't help but watch it. He goes on and on about this bag for what seems like forever. At first I was inclined to think it was just another example of how strange the kid was, but as I watched it I realized that he was right. As weird as he was, what he was saying was true.

http://www.pbase.com/mhartman/image/117579874

One day a few years ago I cam home after a fairly good sized storm had rolled through. As I glanced out my back window I noticed that among the damp brown and gray muck of my yard was a single bright red balloon bouncing about from puddle to puddle. 

I stood in my kitchen for a long moment watching as it skipped along the ground. It was so brilliant in comparison to its bland surroundings that I couldn't take my eyes off of it.

As I watched it I began to think of what a grand adventure that balloon must be on. I wondered where it had been and what things it had seen. Had it started out as part of a childs birthday party or some other festive celebration. Perhaps it had been part of a promotional offer from a local store. Mayhaps it had even made its way from the tiny amusement park just down the road from our house.

Now it was free to sail on the winds of the storm and see so much more. My yard had to be one of many stops the balloon had made. It might just be taking a pleasant rest from its journeys before setting off on another adventure. There was the whole world for it to see, one puddle filled yard at a time. Who knew where it would go next. 

I suppose I could have easily thought of it as nothing more than something sad and lost. Some bit of joy a child had carelessly let slip away or something discarded after its brief bout of usefulness. I could have looked at it as nothing more than garbage that had sailed into my yard on the wings of the storm.

Only none of those things ever occurred to me.

I ran out into the muddy yard with my camera and stood under the dripping trees snapping picture after picture of the balloon as it splashed through the puddles. It stayed just long enough to let me take its picture before the wind swooped in and plucked it up into the sky again.

It danced above my head for just one moment as though it was thanking me for the use of my puddles and to wish me farewell before it went off into the uncertain future in search of adventure.

No day but today

Today my heart is heavy and my soul feels sad. I know that my people, my clan, my family of choice are feeling this weight of loss and sorrow today as well. I wish I had no need to write this post now, or ever again.

I know that the world is still reeling from the tragic events of last week, but in my world, in our small corner of existence, our own small tragedy seems to be the only thing to focus on. Death is never something that comes without the price of sorrow on some level. Whether it is senseless loss of life, the end of a long struggle, or simply passing in the night, it never seems fair.

I've been staring at a blank screen for most of the day trying to think what I can write here. What can I write that is a comfort to myself and to my loved ones in this dark hour. What can I write that would do justice to the man who is no longer here with us. What can I write that will ease the strain on my soul.

I am not sure there are words.

The truth is that this is a post that I have written in the past. It is a post that I will write again in the future. The truth is I have reached a point in my life where the words 'natural causes' are going to be more likely when taking that painful phone call. No longer is it senseless tragedy alone that will claim those I care for. Sometimes it will just be that time.

While riding silently home last night, after spending the evening amongst familiar faces, drowning our sorrow in beer and fried food, I simply clung to the husbeasts hand as we drove. I didn't know what to say. He didn't know what to do but choke on a few tears. He looked over at me, lit only by the glow of the red light we sat at and told me in a raspy voice that it was just one more promise he couldn't keep.

He said it was only something small. It was something that normally would not have mattered. The last time it was only a promised steak dinner. This time it was only the promise of a warhammer game and some beers in the garage. It was nothing that should have been anything of consequence. Now though it is a promise that will never come to pass and suddenly it seems like the entire world.

Death seems so much harsher lit by the bright lights of a Christmas tree and surrounded by the sounds of Silent Night. It seems so much more unfair as we enter a season designed around togetherness and family and showing your love for those around you. It seems so much worse when there is suddenly a hole in your world.

I suppose it makes us hug those that are still here a little tighter. It makes us say I love you with a little more reverence. It makes us smile upon a freshly born child a little more. It makes all those meaningless promises so much more important to fulfill.

Today is a day I didn't want to write a post, this post in particular. I am sorry that I had to do it. I am sorry that someday I will have to write it again.

I am happy though that I can write it. I am happy that I am blessed enough to have people that I love so very much. When I lose one it weighs heavy on my soul, but I would rather this brief pain than not have all the joy that they bring to me.

To those who have come before us and to those who are still here, always show your love. Leave no promise to tomorrow, because someday tomorrow might not come.

Losing myself to Losing Beauty

Sometime about a year ago while I was expanding my blog reading world I stumbled upon Losing Sanity. I can't tell you how I got to Johanna's blog, but I was instantly happy that I had found it. It quickly became obvious that this was a blog that I was going to want to read and really enjoy.

I remember quite clearly when I started reading her blog she kept mentioning the book she had written, Losing Beauty. It was supposed to be a modern day retelling of the Persephone and Hades myth. Honestly after I read that I didn't need any convincing that I should read this book. I am a total sucker for that sort of thing.

Sadly I found that at that particular time Losing Beauty was only available in e-format. I didn't have an e-reader of any sort. This was still well before I left the stone age and got a smart phone as well. I had no actual way to read the book. I was incredibly sad.

Then the day I was hoping for finally came, the book was being printed and the luddites of the world could finally enjoy her book as well. Considering I had wanted to read this book for a while at this point one would think I would go out and buy it. Only I didn't. It, like most things, was placed on my Amazon list for eventual purchase.

When I finally got a tablet I did think about buying the book at that time. The thing was I was still trying to get used to the tablet, and I had this huge stack of reading waiting for me, and I was actually reading three books at once, and it just sort of slipped my mind.

That is it slipped my mind until a few weeks ago Johanna announced that the second book in the Persephony Campbell series, Losing Hope, was being released in mid December (next Monday to be exact). Suddenly Losing Beauty was back on my radar. I remembered how much I had wanted to read it when I first heard about it. Now I had this tablet and it would be so easy and convenient to just download it.

So I did.

It was so very much worth the wait. I had planned on reading it slowly. I was going to read a little in the evening before bed and then finish it up this weekend so that I wouldn't be left waiting anxiously for the release of the next book on Monday. I should have known better.

I downloaded the book on Wednesday afternoon at work and was finished with it before work ended on Thursday. Now to be fair I did read for a while at home Wednesday night, but I must admit I didn't get a lot of work done at the office on Thursday. I just couldn't put the book down.

Actually I couldn't put my phone down. My tablet was having some technical issues so I was forced to read it on my phone. If you have never tried to read a book on your phone, trust me you aren't missing much. If you do read books on your phone I would like to know how you haven't gone blind yet.

Technical issues aside, the book was wonderful. I already love reading her blog so I should have known that I would love reading her book. I found Johanna's take on the myth to be incredibly clever. I loved the sense of mystery she built around the characters. I was constantly wanting to know what was going to happen next. Even when I knew well in advance what was going to happen, I was still in a place of suspense when it finally came to pass.

The book follows the life of Persephony 'Persey' Campbell, a strikingly beautiful young girl from Iowa, that along with what seems to be almost unnatural beauty, also has a strange magnetic pull to her that attracts everyone. More precisely her pull seems to attract peoples secrets, which they can not help but divulge to her no matter how dark and depraved they are.

Haden is the ruler of the Underworld, who has found the anonymity of a modern uncaring society to be freeing if not a little dull. The story starts from the first time that Haden sets eyes on her. It takes him only one look at Persey for him to be hooked. Not even an immortal creature, once worshiped as a God, is immune to the elusive golden haired beauties strange powers. Though to his fascination she seems to be immune to his powers as the ruler of the dead to see humans ends.

The story follows through Persey's life as she tries to make her way through the world without having to bare witness to every persons dark inner secrets. All the while Haden, now obsessed with the unique beauty, plots and plans his way into having what he desires; Persephony as his eternal wife and queen. We watch as Haden manipulates the world as best he can to achieve his goals, though even he can not seem to avert fate and natural law.

I loved how the book explored good vs evil on multiple levels. Watching the individual characters battle with their own internal demons while you also see the worlds demons filtered through Persey Campbell and her unique abilities.

The book ended in such a way that neither good nor evil had triumphed. Battles had been won but the war is by no means over. Old questions were still unanswered and new questions were waiting just formed on the edge of consciousness. Thankfully I only have to wait until Monday to get my next fix.

I highly recommend this book to anyone who likes books with some mystery, some romance, or likes modern retellings of old myths or stories. This book was a delight to read, and even a slow reader like me flew through it. Johanna has created a wonderful world and woven a fantastic tale to which I personally can not wait to see more of.

It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas

It occurred to me yesterday that while it is completely undeniable that the holiday season is upon us, for many people the holidays do not truly begin for them until certain things happen. For every person it is something a little different. I am sure you have all heard laments about this from someone in your lives.

I have been hearing for weeks now that people are unable to get into the holiday spirit due to the unseasonably warm weather Texas has been experiencing. I have also heard people say they just don't feel it is the season until certain foods, music, shows, or events happen. For some people it isn't until that certain decoration is pulled out of the attic and put on display.

Today I decided to share with you something that make it the holiday season for me. As some of you know I am a bit of a Grinch when it comes to most any holiday. I don't mind other people enjoying them and going insane decorating for them, but I don't have that urge.

We do minimal decorations in my house. The tree won't go up until the Friday before Christmas. There are no outdoor lights. I suppose a lot of this has to do with laziness. I am the one who has to decorate and take the decorations down, so until someone else (*cough-husbeast-cough*) wants to actually pitch in, minimal is the word.

Still it doesn't mean I don't have things I love to see and do. It also doesn't mean that every year I don't add at least one tasteful holiday decoration to the decor I do put out.

Anyways. Here is a thing that to me make it truly the holidays.

Probably one of the surest signs for me that it is the holidays, and has been since I was a tiny girl, is the appearance of the Christmas castle.

The castle is a bunch of old cracker boxes, toilet paper rolls, oatmeal containers, and any other object we could find to make a new segment. Each piece is carefully wrapped in festive colored, mostly metallic, wrapping paper. After it is wrapped we would then decorate the piece with bits of ribbon, trim, cutouts of doors, windows, crosses, or whatever seemed festive.

Once all of the pieces were decorated you had yourself a bunch of castle segments. All that was left to do was put them together as we liked to create our holiday castle. It could look different every year, and since we added at least one new piece each year, it never stopped being new.

This is a picture of my mothers castle. My grandmother had one as we were growing up that we added to yearly, and I know my Aunt has one as well. In my mind it wasn't the Christmas season until the castle had been assembled.

Mom snapped this picture last night and sent it to me. It really made the fact that it is indeed the holidays sink in for me.

Whether it stays cold or gets hot again, whether there is the right sort of holiday themed food in the stores, whether the radio blares Christmas music or not, as long as I know the castle is up, it is Christmas time. What is it in your world that makes you know that the holiday's are upon you?

Notes from a Monday

- I got my hair cut last week and it is now significantly shorter than it has been in some months. Even though it has almost been a week now since I had the length taken off I am still having trouble adjusting to the shortness of it.

I keep shocking myself when I look in the mirror, having forgotten I had cut it all off. I keep reaching up to tuck it back over my shoulder only to find my hand waving at nothing. I keep using way too much shampoo and hair product. I keep having to remember how to make my short hair style the way I want it to and not make me look stupid.

It is a thing. Good thing it looks cute on me.

- The cut on my wrist is healing nicely. I was finally able to take the butterfly stitches off on Friday night without fear that I might rip the wound open again. I have to admit though that I am still fairly convinced I may rip it open again.

It doesn't look that bad, though the more I look at it the more I realize how very close I was to a very bad situation. If my wrist had been turned just a little more, and I am talking like half an inch, there would have been a hospital visit there. I also would have gotten to see if my new steam cleaner was any good at taking blood out of the carpet.

- I am almost done with my Christmas shopping. I am pretty sure I have 90% of the stocking stuff covered which is always my favorite part. I have a couple of items left to get for the stockings, but those can wait until a little closer to the day.

I do still have a couple of people left on my list. They are the people that I just really have no idea what to buy for them. The frustrating part is that every time I go to buy them something I find something perfect for the people I already have a ton of stuff for.

Sometimes shopping is just hard work, even for someone with shopping-foo like me.

- The weather finally turned cold last night. After a month or so of incredibly lovely pleasant weather we had a cold snap. This morning there was a very light dusting of snow on the rooftops and the cars. People all over the city seem to be elated by this turn of events.

I for one am less than pleased. I hate the cold. Hate it. We have had weather that most people would kill for. I mean seriously it has been mid to low 70's, blue sunny skies, gentle breeze for over a month now. I know it isn't what one would consider traditional holiday weather, but seriously. Why would anyone want to trade that for bitter coldness?

I suppose there are some things I will just never understand.

- The women in my office are being extra chatty today. We have gone through a bit of a pleasant streak of relative silence lately. They have either been out of office, or had very little to say as of late. Today has ended the streak though.

Every few minutes they start up a conversation. This wouldn't be so bad if it weren't for the fact that they are all sitting at their own desks and just shouting at each other through the cube walls. Why they can't just IM each other is well beyond me.

Maybe Santa will bring me some nice ear plugs this year.

Soul food

Yesterday started off very poorly for me. I don't really want to go into the details, but lets just say the events of the morning did not leave me in the best of moods. I was not really someone that was fit for public consumption in my very angry state. I felt very much like having a Foamy worthy rant at anyone who crossed me.

That really isn't a pretty or a happy place to be. I like being in my happy place. Everyone should want to be in their happy place. It is warm and squishy and happy. Well mine is anyways. Your happy place can be anything you like. That is why it is your happy place.

I had a couple of options for how to fix this mood problem I was having. I could have gone and found liquor while at lunch. It is amazing what a margarita will improve your mood. I also could have gone and gotten a peppermint milkshake at lunch since that is pretty much instant happiness in a cup. I also could have done some retail therapy since I am the type of girl that works on.

The thin is none of those things seemed right to me. This cranky was coming from someplace deep inside. It came from a weariness in my soul. It was not something that could be fixed with just booze or ice cream or a shiny new toys. Those would just be temporary fixes. I needed something that would soothe my soul.

So I went home and I cooked.

There is nothing in the world that I find more satisfying than making a good meal for people I love. It is a soothing balm for me. To put the love and energy into that meal and then turn around and feed it to my loved ones is all I need to set my world right. Watching their faces light up as they eat is just a happy comforting sight.

So one giant pot of potato soup later I sat amongst six people I love dearly feeling warm and content. They were well fed and satisfied and so was I. The dark cloud over my head had dissipated. My soul was content once more.

Oh yea, and my tummy was full. That is important too.

Cleaning day is a very dangerous day

Did you know that super glue can be used to close a wound and is in some case considered better than a traditional suture? It was used in the Korean war to help stop bleeding and close wounds while in the field. It is especially useful when you are home alone and have just cut your wrist open in a freak cleaning accident.

What? That hasn't happened to you? Weird.

So this last weekend was the first weekend after faire ended. In my world that means a two day cleaning spree. My house never comes out of a faire season in any shape fit for human occupation, so I feel two days of deep cleaning the house is in order. It allows me to relax later guilt free.

I was lucky in the fact that the husbeast was out of town for a weekend long bachelor party. Him being gone allows me to clean as I like with no one getting in my way. Sure it meant I had to move furniture on my own, but it is a price I am willing to pay. Seriously  no one wants to be around me when I clean.

The day was going well. I had done most of the dishes the night before, a couple of loads of laundry had been finished, the front room had been cleaned, and the master bathroom had been scoured. I was in the midst of cleaning the master bedroom and it was only mid afternoon. I was on the path to finishing the cleaning much earlier than anticipated.

When my grandmother passed away earlier this year I was given a collection of small old glass bottles that used to be on her mantle piece. The bottles were from the barn on her parents property. Really they are something I remember very fondly from childhood, so I was eager to accept them. They now live on the red shelf in my bedroom.

I had begun to dust the shelf, carefully picking up each bottle and dusting it off before setting it aside. About halfway through the collection something happened that I can't really explain. I mean I know what happened, but I don't really know. You see I had a bottle in each hand, one freshly dusted and one needing to be dusted. I was in the process of setting down the clean bottle when the undusted bottle slipped out of my hand.

As I was watching the bottle fall towards the dresser where it would surely shatter into a million pieces, I had a knee jerk reaction to stop its descent. Both of my hands grabbed for the bottle but I still had a bottle in my left hand. The two bottles made contact, and it is possible that the falling bottle ricocheted off of the other bottle and into the edge of the shelf. I am really not sure as it happened very quickly.

What I do know is that I caught the bottle. Unfortunately in my effort the top of the falling bottle broke off. Now it didn't just break. Oh no, that would be too easy (and boring). No, instead of just breaking off, the broken chunk of glass shot away from the bottle and sliced cleanly across my right wrist before disappearing into the ether.*

At this moment time seemed to stop. You see it didn't hurt at all when I got cut. I sort of just watched as my wrist suddenly split open. It wasn't bleeding or anything. I was just staring at this open spot in my skin marveling at the fact that I was pretty sure I was looking at muscle. I had  never seen a wound like that.

At first I thought the glass had gouged out a chunk of flesh. I have seen wounds like that before and was prepared for that. Then I realized the edges were too smooth and uniform for that. Also there was the lack of a piece of flesh that had been removed. It was at this point I put the bottles down and squeezed the wound together and realized it was indeed a clean cut. I had just flayed part of my arm open.

That is also when it finally started to bleed. I ran and got some gauze and then realized that there was no way I was going to be able to take care of this wound on my own. I had none of the right first aid implements, and I am right handed. Closing a wound with your non dominate hand is very hard.

I quickly texted the kid and my best friend asking if they were around. I tried calling them as well but there was no answer. I was trying to avoid sending a text that said I had cut my wrist open, which is funny considering when I cut the tip of my finger off last year that is exactly what I texted the kid. Somehow though saying you lobbed off part of a digit and saying you slit your wrist open have very different reactions.

I couldn't get a hold of anyone in my area to come help me. Visions of having to duct tape my arm with the help of my teeth and driving to the ER were swimming in my head. It never once occurred to me to call my mother in law. My mother in law who is an RN. My mother in law the RN who lives five minutes away from me and could have driven over and fixed me up or driven me to go get stitches. What can I say, I wasn't thinking clearly.

As I am considering how I can get to the hospital I suddenly remembered that I had found a bottle of super glue earlier in the day. I have actually used super glue to close one of the husbeasts wounds before. This was a brilliant idea. I didn't need anyone to help me do this.

I did post something on Facebook to check with a paramedic friend before I got all glue happy. After that though I was all over it. Literally.

Ok so here is the problem with super gluing a wound together, especially when doing so with your non dominant hand; super glue sticks to everything. By everything I mean it not only stuck my wound together (completely without pain might I add) but also glued my thumb to the wound. Thankfully it was just my thumb and I was able to peel it free without ripping the wound open.

After that everything was fine. I texted the kid and my best friend to let them know I was fine and not to panic. Of course 45 minutes later when they saw the texts they both responded a little panicked. The kid started texting me that she would be over as soon as she found pants. I assured her she could stay pantless and I was fine.

I also texted the husbeast so he wouldn't read about my injury on Facebook. I discovered the quickest way to clear a craps table is to send someone a text saying you slit your wrist but are fine. All 8 of the guys stepped off the table to call and make sure I was indeed alright.

The super glue proved to be a decent solution until I had to shower. At that point the super glue came free from the wound. Apparently you can't get it wet. So I just super glued it again. This time I managed to actually glue both my fingers to the wound. Twice. On the third attempt to glue it together I made sure to keep my finger as far from the wound as I could because I was really tired of ripping the wound back open. I succeeded that time, though I did glue my entire thumb to my arm.

I found some butterflies the next day and removed the super glue altogether. Putting on butterflies with your non dominant hand is almost as difficult as the super glue. I think I went through five before I got two to stick and do what they were supposed to do.

I am now left to wonder how long I have to leave the butterflies on and at what point I can stop worrying about ripping the wound back open from putting strain on my wrist. The cut is a good one. It is about an inch long, and had it been about half an inch further toward the center of my wrist this post would have been about me making my neighbor drive me to the ER and then having to use my new steam cleaner to get blood out of my carpet.

From all of this I have learned that keeping super glue in the medicine cabinet is a good idea, especially for accident prone people like me. Also the husbeast has decided that I should have a sitter anytime he goes out with the guys considering this is the second time I have significantly injured myself in his absence. As I look at my wrist I think he might be right.



*Seriously I searched everywhere and found no trace of the glass. It is either behind the dresser or lost in the cat box. Yes I sifted through the cat box so as not to injure one of the cats but I found nothing at all. It is possible that after it attacked me it then exploded into tiny slivers which I managed to not step on and instead vacuum up. Or you know it disappeared into the ether.