This Mockingbird won't sing

There are mockingbird feathers strewn across my front yard. No mockingbird. I assume he is being quietly digested in some cat's stomach. Probably White Cat. She was stalking in my back yard yesterday.

Not that there is a great shortage of mockingbirds around my house. Not that I haven't threatened them with the feline horde from time to time. I dislike being dive bombed in my own yard. Agressive little things they are.

One of the many reasons I don't let my cats out is because I feed the birds and squirrels (and raccoons, possums, mice, rats, bunnies and whatever else creeps in from the marsh). I don't think it is fair to the creatures to set them up for ambush.

That and vague feelings of guilt over Harper Lee's admonishment that "to kill a mockingbird is a sin" because all they do is sing songs for us.

I'd thought the wildlife was relatively safe because White Cat stands out pretty well and anything would see her about a mile away. But I guess she gets lucky occasionally. I hate to stop feeding with winter coming on, so I guess I'll have to just allow nature to take its course.



Hunting Loki and Thor style.

I will go and vote on Novemeber 7. I always vote. I've voted in every election held since I turned 18, except one, when I had a raging case of influenza and a temperature of 104.

When ever anyone starts to complain about politics or the state of the nation, I always ask if they voted. If they did not, I will not listen unless held captive by circumstance. I will, however, tell them that they have no right to complain now if they didn't bother to vote.

These people running for the various offices aren't just politicians. They are you. Your voice. It's your responsibility to give your voice to the person you want to represent you.

So, I'll vote.

But I must say that I don't think it will matter any more. I mean, it will matter that I made my voice heard. It will matter that I participated in the process. But I don't think the results will matter. Not any more. Not these days.

But I really don't think it will matter much who gets elected, which party has control of which house. I don't think it will matter at all.

The taint of corruption is too deep on both sides of the aisle, in every house. Politics has never in history been so far away from the ideal of serving your country, your state, your town, your fellow citizens.

It's now a career path to riches. Can't make it in big business? Go in to politics, get your pockets lined by lobbyists, make good connections, pass laws that will help you and your buddies (get more donations), block laws that would hurt you and your buddies, retire on the lecture circuit.

Both parties. All levels. No hope. Not in these times. Not with these problems.

Ah, Mr. Smith, where are you now?



Thor and Loki play network news show, no: House of Representatives, no: Senate, no: Chas. Co. School Board, no: State House. Oh, I give up, what are you playing?
Loki: Fools.

Smoke 'em if ya got 'em

I've long believed that marijuana should be legal.

First for monetary reasons. It's something like a billion dollar a year cash crop in this country. Package it like cigarettes, tax the ever-loving-freaking-hell out of it and put some of that money in the pockets of politicians and bureaucrats who will spend it for the greater good, not on porn tapes and potato chips.

(Removing tongue from cheek now)

Seriously. I've always supported medical marijuana. It reduces the chances of going blind with glaucoma. It increases the appetites and decreases the pain levels of AIDS patients and patients undergoing chemotherapy treatment for cancer.

Yes, I know there is a THC pill that supposedly does the same thing as token up. But it doesn't. I've known a couple people who were prescribed the pills and gave them up in favor of illegally buying and rolling their own. Why take the risk?

Because the pills give them one big whallop. Rolling their own, they can take one toke or two, just enough to ease the pain or jump start the appetite or knock back the nausea. In other words, they can use less.

And really, does it make much sense to talk about the risks of inhaling marijuana smoke when ten different kinds of poison is being pumped into them as a cure?

But now I've got even more reason to want it legal. As a person with several relatives with Alzheimers, I'd kind of want the option to treat myself if it became necessary.

Sometimes I buy cat toys for me..

Because it's fun. Because I can. Because I'm bigger. Because I have access to a digital camera. Because I should be dusting and/or sweeping and/or cleaning bathrooms.

But this is much more fun.


Loki sez: You're kidding, right?


Loki sez: Do I look pretty?


Sutu sez: This is the most assinine, degrading, stupid thing you've ever done to me. I'm going to go yak up a hair ball on your bed now. Bitch.


Thor sez: You're kidding, right?


Thor sez: I'm never going to speak to you again after you take this off me.


Thor sez: If she gets out the Halloween hats from last year, we'll have to make a run for it.
Loki sez: But don't you think the pumpkin hat would look cute with the pumpkin jester collar?

Kitten Wednesday

Because I gave myself a head ache and a stomach ache yesterday. Because sometimes I lose all hope that there is any humanity in man, other than that we expect within our own little family/friend circle - the rest of the world can go to hell and since it doesn't effect us directly we don't care. That is NOT being humane.

Argh. Quick. Thor pictures:

This is how I found him taking his mid-evening, post-supper, pre-playtime nap:



Looks like he fell asleep in the middle of a bath.




Thor sez: What? What's so funny? Haven't you ever seen a cat sleeping before? (cat eye roll) May I finish my nap now?

Words are not enough

Girls sexually assaulted and murdered in school.

Five Amish girls shot execution style in their school room. Five more may not make it.

Women murdered for the babies in their wombs.

Young girls snatched from streets, raped and murdered. Dumped in ponds, buried in shallow graves.

Senators, men of God, teachers, homeland security employees sexually stalking young children on-line.

One in four girls, one in six boys in this nation are sexually molested by age 18.

In North Charleston, a woman and her four children shot in a domestic dispute.

And personally, two babies I sent home were within months beaten to death (alledgedly) by their daddies.

And personally, I have cared for at least six babies under the age of two who were dunked in scalding water and burned - second and third degree burns - by their mothers or fathers or aunts. Why? Because they wet their pants.

When are we as a nation going to admit that we don't really care about children?

70 billion dollars for a war, but a shelter for abused women doesn't have security precautions enough to stop a man from entering and murdering his wife who was trying to do what society tells her to do - leave?

70 billion dollars for a war, but we cut social services - parenting classes, support for at-risk moms and children that could end the cycle of poverty and abuse that so many American children live in.

70 billion dollars for a war, but our public schools have to have fund raisers constantly just to get the supplies they need.

70 billion dollars for a war, but there aren't enough care facilities to house children who need protection from their own families.

70 billion dollars for a war, but there aren't enough drug and alcohol rehabs to help addicted men and women break their cycles and become the parents their children need them to be.

70 billion dollars for a war, but our mentally ill wander the streets and we only care when they kill someone.

It's time to stop paying lip service to "family values".

We've wasted our ounce of prevention. It's time for the pound of cure.

70 billion dollars. To kill, maim, and destroy.

While our children are murdered in their homes, their beds, their classrooms.

No child left behind, my ass. The dead ones, the beaten ones, the ones unlucky enough to be born to the wrong parents are being left behind.

In graves.

Last night at work, the song "If" by Bread came on the radio. I jumped up to turn up the volume (a little).

"Oh," I said, "I remember when this album (yes album you fetus!) came out. I was in high school and we were so poor, I couldn't afford even a cassette tape. All my friends were buying it and I was so jealous. So I baby sat and even took care of the people down the street's rabbits -and I hated those smelly rabbits- until finally I had enough money. So my friend Sherry and I went to Ashley Plaza Mall to buy the record. But I saw a pair of white hip-huggers and I bought them instead. Then I was too shy to wear them to school, so I just wore them in my room."

A bit of a rambling pointless story, but I tend to get gabby at three a.m. It helps keep me awake.

One of the ladies there, however, found this to be the funniest thing she'd heard recently (perhaps her own bit of over-tiredness kicking in) and laughed so hard that the other lady and I started laughing until we were all three crying from laughing so hard.

That's fun. I like that.

And, please, some help from some old-timers like myself. Way back in the day when Ashley Plaza Mall was the ONLY mall in Charleston, there used to be a t-shirt/head shop that sold bongs and papers and paraphanalia. It was along the hallway that led straight up to the theater.

What was the name of that place?

That's where I bought the hip-huggers.


Thor sez: I didn't do it. I was sick that day. I have a note from Loki.

I've been a little sad all summer. One of the things I've been sad about was our across the street neighbor. I'd mentioned her here before as "crazy yard lady". She was the one who vacuumed her lawn with the riding mower all winter. But, I'll tell you, she took a nasty looking, neglected yard and turned it in to a show piece. Then last April, I noticed the old guy from down the street was mowing her lawn. Then things started to appear on the side of the yard. Two signs were posted. One said trash, the other said free.

I got a nice basket.

Then I began to worry. So Jason went over one afternoon when there was a young man out in the yard and found out that she'd died in May. Now this was a woman who was out working in her yard sun-up to sun-down and could swing an axe better than most men I've seen.

So when her gorgeous yard starting blooming, I kept looking at all the beauty she'd created and was sad that she wasn't around any longer to enjoy it. So I try to enjoy it. I look over and admire the crape myrtle blooms. Or marvel over how quickly the eucalyptus tree is growing. I take a moment at the mailbox to breathe in it's menthol like scent. I note how well the pear trees she planted are doing. I'm looking forward to the first fall color on them for her.

I think she'd like that her garden is still blooming, still beautiful.


Loki sez: It's my turn to hop out of the basket!

Yesterday, we were taking a table back to my cousin's condo on Seabrook Island. When turning left on Bee's Ferry, a young man passed us, his hand slipping out the half opened window.

"Is that a joint?" I asked.

Above mentioned hand then withdrew back in the car, and raised to the mouth in the classic tokin' position.

Bold as brass balls, toking up right there in traffic.

It was kind of funny. One of those 'drugs are bad for you' 'you shouldn't be high when driving' moments overlaid on memories of my own high school age self doing the same damn stupid thing.

Ah, youth. I feel like an old geezer.

In other news, I sent out two more query packages today. I've run through all my first choice agents that just wanted a query letter. Now I am in the special requests list. This agent wants a letter, a one paragraph synopsis and the first 10 pages. That agent wants a letter and a five page outline and the first chapter. And this one wants a letter, three chapters, a bio and a publishing history.

It's time consuming. And postage stamp consuming.

But the good thing is that I learned how to print labels!


Eyes of the Thor-bee

Thanks to Pam, well and Jason who actually did the planting, I have a tea olive along the side fence. It's a nice healthy size, about three feet tall already, so I'm looking forward to good spring growth. Next up on my "smells yummy" list is a banana shrub.

The weather yesterday was wonderful. I got the front bed cleaned up and re-strawed. I'm a pine straw gal. Don't give me that hideously fake red cedar chip stuff - the palmetto bugs LOVE it. Yum. Yum. Yum. I trimmed the dead branches out of the Japanese maple in the front yard and now it looks horrendous, but they were dead, whatcha gonna do about it? Hope it can rebound in the spring. I started to limb up the palm tree, but the approximately ten billion bees that were working the bloom stalk didn't particularly care for the idea and I didn't particularly care for being stung, so..that chore awaits for early early morning before the bees wake up.

Okay, now it's time for Mystery Plant! Beneath the sheltering arms of my big oak, I found this:


It is basically a stalk coming out of the ground with a ball of flowers on top. The flowers look like honeysuckle blossoms:



And then, over by Jason's garden of snake root, passion vine, roses, sunflowers and the mint plant we've named Loki (for its massive spread) this popped up:

I think it looks like a castor bean plant. It had little white flowers and now has some sort of berry on it. If that's what it is, then we need to get it the heck out of there, because if I recall correctly, castor bean plants get huge.


Today: Painting with poison. My canvas: blackberry brambles. (I let them be in the marsh, but hate them under my back porch.) Pulling invading grass out of the Miss Kitty and Conan Memorial Garden. Restrawing around the back porch.

Sometime this fall we are going to add a fig tree (or two) for the birds and squirrels and the other creatures of the swamp.

Over the winter, we'll be working on our next big project: the approximately 12x8 foot area between the back porch and the a/c unit. One back room window and the kitchen window are within that space, so our plan is to create something that will attract birds and butterflies for the enjoyment of both kittens and humans. The spot is completely bare, nothing but grass, so we can create whatever our imagination, abilities and pocketbook allow.

Suggestions?

I'm trying to plan a short mountain jaunt to see the fall color. I've pretty much decided on a two day tour of the Cherokee Foothills Highway, a 115 mile scenic road that runs from Gaffney to the GA/SC border.

What I'd like to do is stay somewhere in the middle - around Greenville - and tour the highway in two chunks, one way one day, the other way the next day. That'll leave plenty of time for hiking to waterfalls and stopping by interesting places.

Problem is what appears to be a profound lack of hotels in the area. I have been told about cabins for rent in a couple of the state parks, but I am afraid to book one sight unseen. Remember, my idea of "roughing it" is a hotel without room service.

I'm looking at two B&B's in Landrum - The Red Horse Inn and the Barking Fox Farm. Anyone out there in blog land know of them? Or anything else in the region you'd like to suggest?

Loki sez: What do you mean you are going out of town? Who will feed me? I mean, us? How will we open the cans? We don't have thumbs! We'll starve! That's right, starve! You'll come home to three dried up cat skeletons and it'll all be your fault! I...what? Oh, granny is coming to feed us? Nevermind.

I miss spinach

I can feel my iron levels dropping even now. As an (at least) two bag a week household, recent events have left a rather large hole in our diets.

I appreciate the work the news channels have done in getting out the word. I mean, if it weren't for their coverage, I'd have no idea why there was no spinach in my grocery store, or why there were big signs posted about the ban on sales.

But one channel (probably Fox, they are the most frothing at the mouth to make a story even bigger and scarier than it ever had to be - Toy pandas..cute or...DEADLY COMMUNIST MENANCE from CHINA???), took it to a new level.

Agro-terrorism.

Yes, America. Forget the fact that most of those spinach fields were flooded last winter/spring and most flood waters contain human waste. Forget the fact that some government agency (DHEC or FDA, I can't recall which) suggested that farmers have their soil tested for contamination after the floods. Overlook the fact that the migrant workers willingly stooping over in the hot sun and picking your spinach for probably fifty cents a bushel are afraid to leave the fields lest they attract any kind of attention to themselves, so may relieve themselves in said field.

No, forget ALL of that. The MOST REASONABLE conclusion to pole jump to is agro-terrorism.

Yes, Mr. and Mrs. America, while you slept, Islamo-fascist terrorists snuck into California, armed with Ex-lax and Feenamint, and pooped all over the SPINACH fields because we KNOW how much Americans love their dark green leafy veggies, especially spinach. School children across the nation are devasted and terrorized by this evil plot (probably planned by the Iranians, let's go bomb them! Okay? Huh? Can we can we can we can we can we?)

Here is a news flash. Bad, weird things happened in America before 9/11 and bad, weird things will continue to happen in America and not all of it will have terrorists behind it. And just like the weathermen and their death-doom-destruction rants everytime a tropical storm forms, constantly trying to contort a story to provide a possible terrorism angle will begin to make people pay less attention.

Stop it.
Thank you.

(Imagine cute kitten picture here because blogger won't upload it and I have a dentist appointment and I can't sit here all DAY trying to see if blogger feels like uploading my picture or not.)
It was a cute one, really, way cuter than any other picture I've put here, I swear. It is so cute that it should be posted around the perimeter of every brussel sprout farm in America to protect them from the feces-jihadists that are spraying our most beloved veggies with Islamo-fascist poopie because to look upon such sweet cuteness would surely melt the hardest of terrorist hearts.

One of life's mysteries?

Over a dozen people (two in a 24 hour period) have found my lonely little blog by searching for "Eric Clapton's yacht".

I know why my blog pops up on the search. Because my son saw the yacht when he was in Rhodes and I mentioned it here.

The mystery is why are so many people searching the web for "Eric Clapton's yacht"?


Another of life's mysteries: Why does Loki like to be upside down to chase his tail?

Kitten Monday

Yikes. I am tired. Busy busy weekend. So you will have to endure kitten pictures instead of my random thoughts.


Loki, when interested in something, is casually curious


Thor, when interested in something, focuses like a laser beam.



But they both snuggle their favorite toys.

eewww! I gotta meme on me!

A - Accent: to Southerners: none. To Yankees: Southern
B - Breakfast Item: peanut butter and jelly sammie
C - Chore you hate: cleaning the bathroom
D - Dad's Name: duh, dad.
E - Essential everyday item: water and chapstick
F - Flavor ice cream: chocolate
G - Gold or Silver?: I don’t wear jewelry, cat hair is my main accessory
H - Happy Place: on the couch, book in hand, cat(s) on lap
I - Insomnia: frequently
J - Job : baby wrangler
K - Kids: one
L - Living arrangements: shackin’ up is the correct term, I believe
M - Mom's birthplace: Holly Hill, SC
N - Name your pets: Sutu, Thor, Loki and Mick Jagger, although technically, MJ is not MY pet.
O - Overnight hospital stays: tonsils out when I was 12
P - Phobia: crashing off a bridge in to the water and drowning
Q - Question: What do cats see when they stare at walls?
R - Religious affiliation: none
S - Siblings: three brothers, two older, one younger
T - Time you wake up: depends, am I night shifting or being normal?
U - Unnatural hair colors you've had: All my hair colors are unnatural – been gray since age 25
V - Vegetable you refuse to eat: beets, asparagus
W - Worst habit: procrastination
X - X-rays you've had: knees, chest once when I had bronchitis
Y - Yummy: dark chocolate
Z -Zoo animal: tigers


Loki is worried the squirrels will get in the house and eat all his cat food.

This week, Stuff on My Cat's contest theme was the letter B.

I sent this:


Bunny on my Cat

This morning I eagerly checked to see if Thor had made the cut.
He had not.
These are the pictures chosen for the contest.
I ask you, is my obvious favoritism for Thor depriving me of the ability to accurately judge a good picture?
Are any of these better than my sweet faced darling and his bunny buddy?
I think not.

I voted for the Botox kitten because it was, at least, original.

Support

Last night I went to a meeting of the writer's group I belong to. When I first joined four or so years ago, I was a closet writer. I'd never really shown any one my work, much less read it out loud to a group of strangers.

But my timing had been perfect. The group was on fire at that time with a large core of talented writers all making huge leaps in their writing careers. We had published writers, about to be published writers and raw new beginners like myself. The most important part was that we all liked each other, we all were supportive of each other. Critiques were honest, fair and done without damage. It was within that support network that I wrote my currently being schlepped out to agents novel.

But as groups tend to do, it fell apart a little. People were busy. People moved. New people came in and the dynamic changed. Not so much for the better. I began to not want to go, not want to share my work. The four or so key people who I trusted and depended on and respected their opinions were rarely around. The feedback I was getting wasn't helping. Wasn't hurting, but wasn't helping.

As I have struggled in the past six months to get this current project off the ground, floundering around, changing this, convinced every word is a giant steaming pile 'o turds, I was convinced it was one of two things. Either the story wasn't wanting to be told or I had told the only story I had in me already.

But last night, all those core people whose opinions I trusted and relied upon were there. The energy was there. We were fairly vibrating with the buzz. It was clicking along. And they liked my new stuff. I hadn't realized that what was wrong was that I was writing in a vaccuum, that I had come to depend upon those people. I was, in part, writing for them. Wanting to have something new and exciting and good to share with them spurred me on in the writing.

It feels great to have that spark back. Hopefully it'll catch hold and the fire will last. Hopefully.


I feel a little guilty about all the goofy, non-flattering Thor pictures recently, so here he is being A-Thor-able.

Write Your Own Caption

My captions were:

Thor reacts to the news that breakfast is not shredded Friskies.

or

Thor reacts to Loki's announcement that he will vote Republican.

Random Thoughts

Lindsay Graham. What a weenie head. What a shimmy-shammy flippa-floppa-ding-dong. Who did his spine-ectomy? What's he doing? Reading the newspapers and writing out sound bites so he can get re-elected? I wouldn't trust him if he came over and painted my house for me.

Muslims. Okay, I'm one of the dozen liberals in Charleston who actually admit out loud to being one, but WTF? These people need to get over themselves. Every religion is criticized and/or ridiculed. Deal with it. Shooting nuns and calling for jihad and whipping up huge chanting crowds (don't these people have jobs?) is just regoddamndiculous. The vast silent majority of Muslims need to start standing up against this sort of behavior.

"I Had a Baby Signs". Some are suggesting that the woman who had her throat slashed and her baby stolen should bear some of the fault because she had one of those signs announcing the birth. Good God. The crazy pyscho lady who did it bears 100% of the fault because she is the one who did it.

Remember the story about the ER nurse who came home after a hard shift, found a man in her home, then strangled him to death with her bare hands after he began attacking her? Turns out he was a hit man hired by her ex. Moral of the story: don't fuck with ER nurses and especially don't fuck with ER nurses after a bad shift. Bet she was picturing some dickhead doc the whole time she was strangling the guy.

Oy. Off to work with me. Welcome back party tonight for a co-worker who has been out for almost four months with a broken ankle. Jason declined to sleep for four hours, wake up, get dressed, drive to the hospital, attend the party, return home, sleep some more, then get up and go to work. I don't know why.


Thor is so damn goofy. I just want to kiss him a million times.

For Pete's Sake!

Last week Stuff on My Cat ran its weekly contest. The theme this time was basically: what my human does to keep me in Friskies and cat nip.

So, I decided to try to enter. Problem is, my cats won't sit, stand or lie still for stuff to be placed upon them. I worked all day and the best I did was this:



I was going to call it "Nurse Sutu patiently awaits his next patient."

When Jason got home, I showed the fruits, okay the fruit, of my labors to him.

He said, "Sutu got elected Pope??!!"

Sigh. Arts and crafts was never my forte.

Vehicular Sociopathy

That is my new term for people who speed, tail-gate and run red lights simply because they don't feel they should have to wait. People who, once they lock themselves in their vehicles with their cell phones, CD players, lap tops, and air bags, feel they have every right in the world to completely disregard the lives of others.

Because they have places to go. They have things to do. They are IMPORTANT and we are in THEIR WAY.

I'm sorry, I didn't get the e-mail that the road belonged to you today. So sorry for venturing out and doing really stupid things like yeilding to oncoming traffic, driving the speed limit, remaining in my lane at all times and actually stopping at red lights.

Oh, don't be trying it at Magwood and Paul Cantrell any more. So many hospital workers have had so many near death experiences (including moi and the 90-mph tractor trailer that I saw about two seconds before it would have broad-sided me) that all our complaints to the police have not gone unnoticed. Last weekend alone, I saw four cars pulled over for running the reds.

I hope the ticket is a million dollars.

Self centered jerks.


Thor sez: That's right! You'll be sorry when you kill some-one!

I had in mind to don a surgical mask and venture into the wilds of the hall closet, where rumor has it that dust bunnies the size of elephants lurk behind the suitcases, spewing their evil allergens out from beneath the door.

But instead, I find myself host to some annoying virus, one not virile enough to render me incapacitated so that I might sleep through the worst of it. One not weak enough for some ibuprofen to knock back its symptoms and allow me to soldier on.

No this one is just enough to make me miserable. So I fritter the day away. Nap, read, watch TV. Nap, read, watch TV.


Thor sez: You say nap like it's a bad thing.

Cat Napping

Big Spot (Loki) Little Spot (Thor)


Turn, stretch.


Resume napping.


You woke us up for nothing?

Lily Livered Coward

That's me. I went to work last night at 11pm with a plan. I was to fast until quttin' time (0730), with occasional sips of water allowed, then drive across the street to the lab my doc uses to have my yearly blood work drawn.

By two a.m., I was asking things like, "Would a Tic-Tac count as eating?"

But I made it through until almost seven, when the parents of a patient showed up with Dunkin Doughnuts and coffee.

Even then, I resisted temptation. (Although I did accidently lick the frosting off my fingers as I was packing up a couple of 'to-go' doughnuts.)

I get to the lab, they are practically empty and while I'm waiting a phlebotomy student comes in to do her clinical work. With the lady drawing my labs. Man. I'm stitting there in the little chair, my arm strapped down (I'm not THAT bad), while she explains everything to the student and I know I should offer to let the student stick me. I mean, some-one allowed me to plunge a hollowed out razor sharp chunk of steel through their flesh for the first time at some point in my education.

But I'm a baby. Really. A whimpering whining anxious baby about needles. I don't think I could have taken it with out fainting or screaming or crying or something. Then the student would have felt bad and maybe quit school then she'd be living in poverty her whole life, just because of me.

So, hey, maybe I did her a favor. That's it. I'm not a coward, I'm a hero!


Loki sez: Excuse me, but did you mention doughnuts?

White Cat

She moved in two doors down a few months ago and roams the neighborhood like it is her personal palace. She spends a good deal of time sitting in my back yard, staring up at the branches of the oak tree, where the squirrels and birds twitter at her.

I don't let my cats go out for a variety of safety reasons, but mostly because I'm too cheap to buy monthly flea control for all three of them. But they are very interested in what goes on outside the windows.


Loki on high squirrel alert.

Fault

Who is to "blame" for Bin Laden. There is a lot of talk about fault these last few days. Here is the thing, Bin Laden is at fault.

Even a casual reader of my blog would know that when I'm not being lazy and posting inane cat pictures, I am not a George Bush fan.

But Bin Laden is not his "fault". (I don't agree with how The Decider has decided to deal with it, but that isn't what is being discussed.) Holy Alliteration Decider-Man, that's way too many d's for only one cup of coffee.

If one must affix blame to someone, then let us travel back to the 1980's when Reagan's administration was ALL about this young upstart and his band of merry men fighting off the mighty Soviet Army in the mountains of Afghanistan. How his administration sent equipment and people to train Bin Laden. Why? So that the Soviet Union would be bogged down in an unwinnable war, drain its economy, devastate its armed forces, demoralize and polarize its people, leading to its collapse.

Just as before that, we trained and equipped our buddy, Saddam Hussein, over in Iraq when we were all mad at the Iranians for the whole nasty Embassy thing.

Maybe we should start being a little more careful about who we crawl into bed with.



Loki sez: I'm not too sure about this fellow.

Warning: Girl Stuff Discussed!

Ah. The tiniest bit of coolness in the air. Forecast highs in the 80's. The first hints that autumn is on the way. Well, other than the Halloween decorations and candy I saw in the grocery store yesterday. Next week the Christmas stuff is coming out, I'll bet.

For some, fall is the return to school.

For me, it is the return to the doctor.

Annual physical time. Yeah! Whoo-hoo! Yipee! Sorry, just trying to rustle up some enthusiasm. My list of things to talk to my doc about gets longer every year.

A lot of women schedule this near their birthdays so they don't forget. I'm sorry, but a pap smear and mammogram aren't exactly the kind of birthday present I want to get.

And speaking of mammograms. I've said it before and I'll say it again: if men had to have their testicles squashed flat between two plexiglass plates every year, there would be an "advancement in technology" before the week was out. And there is a new way to do mammograms, where you lie down with your chest in water and they use sonography (not sure if that is the absolute correct term). And why isn't it in use everywhere? Costs too much to replace existing equipment, train operators, train the docs to read them. Again, I say, if it were men's balls.......

Okay, off to drink water so I can pee in the cup.

New Toy Wednesday

Not that they get new toys every Wednesday, it just happened to be today.

Thor sez: I must destroy you!


Thor sez: Prepare to die!


Thor sez: gnaw gnaw gnaw


Sutu sez: Do I perhaps smell a bit o' catnip?


Sutu sez: Oh yes, catnip.


Thor sez: Sutu drooled on my toy!


Loki sez: No, I do not wish to play with that disgusting drooled upon, chewed upon thing. I'm happy with my chicken.

For the WTF file: I was in the drug store last week, stocking up on drug store stuff. First of all, there are too many varities of "sanitary" products. It takes me five minutes of shelf scanning to find what I am looking for. But my WTF moment: discovering THONG liners. Yes, sanitary pads for thongs.

It is just wrong.

Yesterday, I indulged my biblioholism by blowing a chunk o' money in Barnes and Noble. What I got:

Nickel and Dimed. On (Not) Getting By in America. By Barbara Ehrenreich.

A Walk in the Woods. By Bill Bryson. It's his account of hiking the Appalachian Trail, which in fantasy sounds like something I'd love to do, but in reality, there are no hotels, bathrooms or coffee makers along the trail, so nevermind.

Schoolgirls. By Peggy Orenstein. A look at "young women, self-esteem and the confidence gap". I haven't started reading it yet, but she looks at 8th grade girls and the choices they make.

1001 Things Everyone Should Know About Women's History. By Constance Jones. This is a fun book. I was skimming through it (it is highly skimmable), with an extra large cube of post-it notes beside me. The book is now sprouting neon yellow flaps on all sides.

Some post-it note markings:

"The Equal Rights Amendment is about a socialist, anti-family political movement that encourages women to leave their husbands, kill their children, practice witchcraft, destroy capitalism and become lesbians" (from my buddy, my pal, my favorite comedian) Pat Robertson, 1994

"How has this Women's Rights movement been treated in this country, on the right hand and the left? This nation ridicules and derides this movement, and spits upon it, as fit only to be cast out and trampled underfoot. This is not ignorance. They know all about the truth. It is the natural outbreak of tyranny. It is because the tyrants and usurpers are alarmed. They have been and are called to judgement, and they dread the examination and exposure of their position and character." William Lloyd Garrison, 1853 (gee...that sounds...so...current)





Sutu sez: Male, female, makes no difference to me. Do you have an opposible thumb? Can you open a can of cat food?

Monday, Monday

I love this day. Usually means no more work for me. But I spend it in a sleep deprived state of semi-lucidness, just waiting until it's late enough to go to bed.

Funniest/strangest thing anyone has said to me: (back in the day when I was only packing around 115 on my 5'8" frame) "You're so skinny. If you were pretty, you could be a model."

Um. Thanks? I think what I said was, "Yeah, right."

And while I am on the subject. Once, I was walking across a parking lot and a total stranger yelled, "Hey Allie, go eat a McBeal-burger." Her friend laughed along.

Luckily, I'm all fluffy now, so people don't need to make fun of me any more.

For Pete's sake.



Thor sez: Humans are strange.
Photo by Jason Zwiker

P.S. To our ANOTHER TROPICAL STORM!!!!! friends - as of 0500 - this little blob is approximately 2,700 miles away. Two THOUSAND. Seven HUNDRED. MILES. AWAY.

How many people out there knew that while every major news network and every local channel were chasing poor little Ernesto up the coast there was a Category 4 hurricane beating the heck out of the Mexican coast and a Super Typhoon rampaging across the Pacific?

Oh yeah, NOT AMERICA. Doesn't count or exist other than a sound bite or two to "prove" that we give a snot about anything other than ourselves.

But enough of that. We will have plenty of false alarms and perhaps the real deal as we move into September, traditionally the most active time of hurricane season.

All my laying around on the couch, staring off into space has about paid off. See, it may look like I'm not doing anything, but actually I am thinking. And that's hard work.

I was having all kinds of problems with my work-in-progress. Actually it's pretty much a work-dead-in-the-water. But I've almost got it figured out. The problem was Tilly, the next door neighbor, who is going to be a major character, but she was just absolutely refusing to fit in the skin I was giving her. It took her a while, but she was able to get through to me just what her story is.

So I shall, for the fourth time, scrap most of what has been done so far and begin again.


Loki sez: Leave me alone! I'm thinking!