Hard to believe I’d be feeling good three days after … god, I don’t even want to say it. By now you must know Jenny’s and my politics, and nowadays it has a more immediate impact on our lives (I avoid using impact as a verb). So while this isn’t going to become a political platform, opinions are going to come up, and I’m afraid opinions on our current president are strong. So if you’re of a differing opinion just skip my opinions on the
flaming orange cheet-0 president.
Saturday was so good it made up for a lot of bad. I didn’t march, I rolled, which given the slush and the crowd was damned tricky. I was pushed by an award-winning fiber artist, Judy Dales. I’ll put one of her quilts at the bottom of this but the photo doesn’t do it justice. Her work is amazing.
Anyway, we all rode in a rented school bus driven by Sherral, Bobbi arranged it, I sat with BJ, Big Tim went and grabbed me a hat, Betsy looked out for me, Erika sat behind us. I gotta remember I do have friends here, even if I don’t often see them. I wish I could see them more, but their lives center around what’s called The Walking Women, we they all walk three times a week and then get together for muffins at each others’ houses. They’re a powerful force, and obviously I can’t participate.
Last time I did an actual, organized march through a downtown was all the way back after MLK was murdered. We walked through the center of downtown Newark, which was a pretty funky place. Since then I’ve been on demonstrations (tear gas in Washington), sit-ins (arrest in NYC for blocking a draft board – I even went to the Tombs!), vigils (the Iraq war) and I’m not that active politically (though I’ve been sending money this year). the times they are a-changing, though, and I gotta get vigilant. Problem is, I can’t very well write my congressmen. I mean, what would I accomplish by writing Bernie or Pat Leahy to tell them what I think of the president’s actions? They’re already on point.
Anyway, a glorious day, a reminder that we’re all bonded (on a personal level as well as a political level). It was glorious.
So, this week.
I actually wrote three days last week, and I’m half done on Brandon and Emma. I did some sewing, and I’m off to Jo-ann’s to buy doll clothes patterns for $1 a piece (for my transgender American
Girl Boy doll (they have a Dr. Who pattern!). Gotta write, gotta clean, gotta sew. Gotta call an SSI lawyer for Tim, gotta check on Daniel, got a life to live.
The weight has plateaued 25 pounds lower than my last stable weight, and it’s effortless (sugar doesn’t call to me, nor do fried things) so I’ll keep on with that. I’m rolling up my sleeves and digging in.
So what’s on your agenda? Anyone else march? How are people doing with their vision for the new year?
So here’s the roundup of the rest of our darlings. I’m astonished at the difference the cats have made in our lives. I think it’s because we always had animals – we never realized what it was like not to have one. But two years ago Cello died (a rescue cat from my ex BIL), Pooska died (a darling mini-Maine coon cat) of extreme old age (19 – she’d just showed up in her garage one day when she was a baby). We were left with Phantom, who was such a darling he filled our lives. And then, as Tim’s illness exploded (indeed, on the very day something seemed to snap with him) Phantom was hit by a car. It’s even possible he accidentally hit him – we’ll never know. And life was so hideously awful that we were just holding on for dear life, like survivors in a Tsunami as the flood waters swirling around us and the wind shook the trees we were clinging to.
We went through two years like that, with the occasional respite of cuddling Crusie’s dogs, who are exceptionally snuggly. And then things hit rock bottom, Richie was so depressed it was almost clinical, I was shell-shocked. And the kitties arrived. I said to Richie that suddenly things were better – that I was no longer pushing him to see a therapist. He started to deny feeling better (because we’re still a little terrified about what might happen) when I said “it just sort of grounds us, having the animals.” And that’s what it does. Life is just not so bleak. It’s a reminder that certain things are eternal when so much else is random.
But you guys with pets know that. In a way it was a good thing not to have the pets for a while – I took them for granted as a part of life. I’d never realized just how necessary they were. These are Jennifer’s kitties – they bought some chairs to assemble and of course the cats claimed them. I’m assuming the boxes were too flat for them to crawl into.
Ah, me! (Which, incidentally, is what Juliet says at the beginning of the balcony scene). I’m full of quotes today. I looked at my image on Photo Booth and I looked soooooooooo old! But then the line from “Gigi” popped into my mind – “Am I getting old?” “Oh, no, not you!”
And now that song will be in my head all day.
I’m working on hauling out my office, but it’s a huge job. I need to figure out how to break it down-it gets too overwhelming. I keep grabbing boxes full of stuff and finding twenty differents places for things to go. I probably need to find ways to break it down, and yet, storing, tossing and giving away is a no brainer, but a lot of the stuff simply needs to go somewhere. Probably because my office is downstairs, I toss everything in there if I have to do a sudden cleaning (it’s always wrapping and present center during Christmas). I need to figure out how many receptacles I need and where to find ’em. I have one for giveaways, one for “to-file”, one for memorabilia (my mother’s writing, etc), trash, of course, one for office supplies …
Okay, bird by bird. I managed to write three days last week – I’m hoping for five this week but four will do. Things are always pulling at me. I’ve decided I can’t start swimming again – it’s too expensive and takes too long (25 miles away). (However, I’m seeing more surgeon tomorrow since it’s been a year since my shoulder replacement and it might be a good idea for the shoulder, in which case I’ll figure it out). So it’s gonna be writing in the morning, working on the house in the afternoon and sewing when I get the chance.
My pal Mort (Maggie Shayne) has a system where she breaks her days into segments – I think they’re two-hour ones. She puts them in spiritual terms, but I’m just trying to be as simple as possible. If I could implement that it would be perfect – one segment for writing every day (always with the option for keeping going), one segment for the house, one segment for fun. I’ve got to put some thought into it – how much downtime in between, etc. I’ll work on this and let you know how it goes.
Tomorrow the rest of the pets! I found a cat video on Amazon (as in, video for cats, with squirrels and birds) and our babies when crazy. Thunderpaws kept looking behind the flat screen, trying to find the squirrel, Lulubelle sat on the rug, transfixed. It was a hoot!
What’s on your agenda? (And no, I’m not getting old, right? Older, sure. I like that. I just wish it could go both ways).
First off, we’ve got Sylvester, the Cat, who lives with Betty from Maine. We had a Sylvester and Tweety – two factory kittens Richie brought home (he’d also taken the mom to the vet to be neutered so she wouldn’t keep having kittens). Then my Sylvester walked through an oil pan that Richie had used to change the oil in the car, and then left oil paw prints on an antique bedspread (the cat, not Richie). Henceforth he was Oiler.
Then we have Cindy, who clearly loves dogs. The first photo is Bill, a wild soul they found covered in ticks who likes to cuddle (sans ticks, I assume) and the granny dog Ruby, who just crossed the Rainbow Bridge at age 18 and is still deeply missed. Then there’s Penny, a wanderer who preferred Cindy’s family to her original one, and last but not least here’s Jack, a rescue from 2004. Cindy’s a Good Woman.
More tomorrow – gotta write. Oh, and Mini-me is snowed in at the ski area she works for in South Lake Tahoe with no power, waiting for the roads to be cleared. It’s been an adventure for her. She has no critters because her husband’s allergic, but when they lived in England (in Kent) a neighbor kitty would drop by quite often, one with black mark under his nose whom they called Hitler. He was a very friendly cat, though, and not out to annex any nations, so it was okay.