Bird Man *REPOST*

*I am reposting this post, that I had up last year, for no particular reason other than I really like it!*

When I was growing up, my father's hobby was rehabilitating birds of prey. For instance, if someone found an injured hawk or owl, they usually brought it to the humane society, and then they would contact my Dad. He built, with his own hands, enormous cages in our backyard for the birds to stay in until they were better. He had a room in his laboratory (he was a science professor at a midwestern university, now retired) where he could xray, reset any broken bones, remove any bullets, and fix up any sort of injury. Amputations were sometimes necessary for mangled claws, and I remember an owl that lost it's eye (I can't remember the circumstances).




"Peg Leg Pete"




The birds would then stay in these cages and recover, and when he deemed them well, he would put a band on their leg and release them back into the wild. But sometimes they were not able to be released. They simply wouldn't survive in the wild with their type of disability. So he would find a bird sanctuary to take them to. I think there is one in Kalamazoo, MI (or, at least there was one when I was a kid).

I remember when I was a kid wishing that I had a "normal" home - the neighborhood kids thought we were weird (the "Adam's family" is sometimes how they referred to us) but now I know how cool it really was. I got to see birds up close like snowy owls, peregrine falcons, great horned owls, red-tailed hawks, and even birds like storks and turkey buzzards. One time we had a South American Black Hawk - I think someone had it illegally in Texas, and the authorities confiscated it and sent it to my Dad. I am not sure what ever happened to him, but his name was Zeke and he was magnificent. He had a high-pitched call that made you think you lived in the jungle. Needless to say, some neighbors didn't appreciate that!

You may be wondering, "what did these birds eat?". That was the one thing that I was uncomfortable with. My Dad would feed them rats which he got from his lab, I think. I would be taking the laundry downstairs and would walk past a rat lying there thawing. It became normal after awhile, but still weird. Also, the birds would sometimes eat meat from the meat market. One time, my Mom and I went to the market because she needed to get a cow's heart for my Dad to feed the buzzard. So she ordered it, and the guy behind the counter gave her a look (after all, how many people order cow hearts?). So she said, "Oh, it's not for us. It's for our buzzard." As if THAT was a "reasonable" explanation. I was so embarrassed.

During the winter, sometimes my Dad would bring birds into our basement (there were cages set up there too). One time my mother went downstairs to get the laundry, and there it was, a buzzard sitting there on the table looking at her. Apparently, it had escaped from it's cage. So she called my Dad to come get him. She wasn't even fazed at all. Doesn't EVERYONE have a buzzard in their basement?

Another shawl

It turned out to be too small for me, so I decided to give it to my niece Kelly when she turns 8 in September. A lessoned learned: when a pattern gives you a gauge, they really mean it! Pay attention to it or you can end up with a miniature.

What I forsee for the future

I see someday, maybe soon, that families will have to move in together in order to make ends meet. It will be just like it was way back when - people of different generations all living together under the same roof. Working jobs with low pay - but everyone pitching in will make it possible to survive.

I see more people finding alternate transportation. More people will ride bikes to work, take the bus, carpool, etc.

I see the rich getting even richer, and the poor getting even poorer.

I see me going crazy one day and deciding to go live with my sister - and getting a job at McDonald's so I will be able to help buy food and pay the bills. I see me getting a small amount of retirement money each month and blowing it on frivolous purchases - those impulse-buys that provide momentary happiness. Each day will be lived for those brief moments of happiness.

Isn't he precious?

The last time he was really sick, we had him bundled up on the bed with us. The bed had no blankets because I had to strip it because he peed on it! He had had a seizure on the bed and lost control.

Spool-Knit Headband

Remember learning how to do this when we were children? I remember making my own spool out of an empty spool of thread, with nails for the prongs (hopefully, in 2nd grade, they didn't make us hammer our own nails into the spool). I decided today to make some headbands I can wear in my unruly hair - I just make three knit tubes, about 23" long each. Then tie them together and braid. Easy!

The Good Old Days

I took this picture sometime in 2001. *Sigh*

Spider face finished

Crochet Mushroom and Ladybug

This pattern is from here and here and isn't it adorable? I wish I had thought of it myself. I plan on giving this to one of my nieces that likes Ladybugs.

Crochet snake

This is a snake I crocheted for my nephew. It is supposed to be modeled after his favorite Neopet, Cobrall. So I used freeform crochet and a little bit of embroidery (BAD embroidery, but it will do) for the eyes. And the side head flaps look more like ears, but I don't feel like taking them off and doing them over!

Doilies

I really like making them, but who uses them anymore? They are really more like works of art. This doily I made from a pattern in the book Crocheted Lace, by Pauline Turner. There are many more patterns (or Motifs) in this book I would like to make. Maybe I will make a big tablecloth.

Crochet Spider

I feel like my blog is now turning into a crochet blog! I become more obsessed with crochet everyday.

Anyway, when I was a child, I crocheted a spider - I just did it as I went along (I guess that would be "freeform" crochet?). Here is a picture of it (it is over 25 years old, so it isn't in great shape!).

On Sunday I decided to see if I could still do it - so I crocheted this black spider. However, I am at a loss as to what to do with it's face. I need advice! Does anyone have any ideas? Should I do the same thing as with my old spider, with felt eyes?

Tunisian stitch shawl

I bought these really cool Easy Tunisian Cable Hooks on ebay a few months ago. They are sizes M, N, and P which are large hooks that you don't see very often with cable hooks.

When I received the package I took out one of the hooks, and it immediately broke! The end of the hook, where the cable connects, just snapped. Later, when I was using one of the other hooks, it too snapped, in the same place. I emailed the woman who sold it to me, and she gave me a discount. She looked into it and found out that the company (Annie's Attic) had discontinued the item (perhaps because of design flaws??).

So I bought some Duck Tape (yes, Duck Tape, not Duct Tape) and taped the cable back to the hook, and was able to make one of the patterns that came in the package. The Duck Tape surface is smooth and didn't "catch" any of the yarn as it glided over the hook, so there were no problems with the yarn getting caught or frayed.

Black Elk quote

I was reading a book called "Goodbye, Friend" by Gary Kowalski (about losing a pet) and saw this quote:

"We should understand well that all things are the work of the Great Spirit. We should know the Great Spirit is within all things: the trees, the grasses, the rivers, the mountains, and the four-legged and winged peoples; and even more important, we should understand that the Great Spirit is also above all these things and peoples. When we do understand all this deeply in our hearts, then we will fear, and love, and know the Great Spirit, and then we will be and act and live as the Spirit intends" - Black Elk

More information on Black Elk is here.

Food

I love to eat. I mean I REALLY love to eat. What is it about food that is so appealing? I know we need to eat food for its nutrients, and shouldn't that be the only reason? Ancient people ate food to survive. I eat food because it tastes good. Often during the day I think about what I could eat next, when I could eat next... and it most often involves food that has lots of sugar. I can't drink just water. It has to be water filled with sugar (i.e., Kool-Aid, or Soda). I can't eat just a granola bar, it has to be a granola bar filled with sugar and chocolate.

Chocolate. I don't think there is a day that goes by that I don't eat any. I keep chocolate bars in the pantry in case I am seized with the urge to eat chocolate. I keep chocolate chips in the refrigerator, and eat handfuls of them at various times during the day. I feel like it is "fuel" or something.

Growing up, my parents let me and my siblings eat pretty much what we wanted. Food was always a big part of our family, especially sugary foods. I know now, that it was their way of saying they loved me, and perhaps I still eat sugary foods because I equate it with love. I am not big on psychotherapy anymore, since I have been through lots of it and still don't feel like it has helped, but there may be something to it in this case.

Am I neurotic?

I was just thinking this morning that I am feeling so overwhelmed in my job and I don't know how much longer I can do it. Then I get an email from the boss that says I might be getting a big raise because of my excellent performance last year. Doesn't he know how much I suck? I make mistakes all the time and leave early at every opportunity (to rush home to my dog). Then another thought comes to me: my job is SWEET! It is never the same day to day, so it's not boring. I have a cool boss who lets me do my job and doesn't micromanage. So what am I complaining about?

Also, I know that I should be getting over the death of my cat, but I still cry and obsess over it often. I miss her so much. Sometimes I can't stand it. I desperately wish that she exists somewhere and is ok. I feel like I just HAVE to know if there is an afterlife or I will just go nuts and will have to be shipped off to an insane asylum. How can I live this life knowing there might not be anything after this life, that we just cease to exist? What is the point of anything then? How do people who have lost their loved ones go on? I don't want to hear from people that she was just a cat - I grieve over her the same as I would a person. A loss is a loss.

So, these are the things that have been going on in my mind lately. I guess the answer is yes, I am neurotic.

Recent crochet projects

If you want to know where I got the patterns, just let me know. I made up the pot holder pattern - it is Tunisian crochet. Also, the snakes pattern is mine too (made up, I don't remember how I did it).

Three months have gone by...

since Ladybug died. I still think a lot about the periods up to and after her death. In the days after she died, a few things happened around the house that made me wonder:

1) My husband felt a cat walking on him one evening when no cat was there.
2) My husband saw a cat out of the corner of his eye jumping on a table, but when he looked directly, nothing was there.
3) We heard a loud crash downstairs - turned out it was a kitchen chair that fell over backwards. That has never happened before in the almost 5 years we have lived there. I don't think it was my other cat, because as I heard the crash, I sat up and saw her sitting in the hallway. I don't think she could have knocked the chair over and made it up the stairs that fast.
4) We had problems with our television. The sound would go out for no reason. After turning the channel and then going back, the sound would work again. This went on for about a week and then stopped. Nothing like that had ever happened before and since.

I was also despairing that I hadn't dreamed of Ladybug. I believe that sometimes dreams can be a way to contact "the other side". But then I finally did have a dream about her a few weeks ago. I was very concerned during the day about my father, who had been taken to the hospital with severe intestinal bleeding. He is in his upper 70's and in poor health, so I was worried that "this was it". That night, I dreamed very vividly all kinds of things, in a dream-within-a-dream. I remember being at my Dad's house, and he was taking all the furniture out of his den (as if he was moving somewhere), and I remember thinking in the dream "why is he doing that? he is not dead yet!"; then I was still at their house and making sure they weren't getting taken advantage of by some workers remodeling the house - I was yelling at people! - that is not something I would do normally; then later in the dream I saw Ladybug. I called her to me and she jumped on my lap. I remember petting her and remarking how good she looked - she had gained her weight back - I remember thinking in the dream "maybe she won't die now". In the dream, she still had her shaved tummy (where she had it shaved for her ultrasound about a month before she died). I was so happy she looked healthy again.

Then, I remember waking up from my dream within-a-dream and seeing something approach me to my left. I was lying in bed (in my dream) and I looked and my father was standing there smiling. I said "Hey, how are ya?" and he said "great!" and leaned down to hug me. I then freaked out, thinking, he must be dead if I am dreaming this (all along knowing I was dreaming in my dream - it is hard to explain). I struggled awake. My husband said I was yelling in my sleep. It was about 4:00 am, and I didn't fall back to sleep the rest of the night.

I felt a general sense of "everything is ok" after being awake for awhile but at the same time an apprehension that my father really was dead.

It turned out though, that he is fine now, and the bleeding was from an ulcer that they found in his intestine.

This dream is still vivid weeks later. I have not dreamed of Ladybug since. Some have told me that Ladybug came to me in my dream to comfort me because I was worried about my father, to show me that all will be ok and that there is more to this life. I would like to believe this.

Ladybug's ashes were buried at this pet cemetary, Pet Rest, and I plan on going to visit in a few months. I miss my little Bug-Bug.

Do you believe in psychics/mediums/spiritualists?

I know not many people read this blog. But I was just curious to hear, from those that do read this blog, if they have had any experiences that have convinced them that they are indeed for real.

My husband gets very angry when he hears of people that claim to be able to "talk to the dead" - he calls them charletons, who take advantage of people when they are vulnerable. He thinks it's all a load of crap; psychics are just people who are very good at cold readings, and they just give out general information that could be true for anybody. He insists that John Edwards, Sylvia Browne, and James Van Praagh have all been proven to be frauds.

I have never had any personal experiences, but I do hope that this world is not all that there is and that we continue on.

My Sick Dog

I have had my dog Treif for 1 1/2 years, and he has been steadily losing the use of his back legs ever since I got him. I took him to numerous vets who generally agreed that he has some kind of neurological problem. I was surfing the net yesterday and came across this web page here

and it exactly describes what is happening to him.

He drags his feet when he walks, I have to put bandages on his paws because they scrape against the ground and get raw and bloody. He can't get up from a sitting position without a little help; he struggles to pull himself up with his front legs. It is easier for him if he is on a carpeted surface. He sleeps a good portion of the day and when he is awake, I carry him everywhere (up and down the stairs, to the door, to his food bowl, etc.). He also has a little bit of dementia; not severe, but sometimes he seems to "forget" how to eat out of his food bowl (I hand-feed him until he catches on) and he will, when he is "walking" around, go and get caught in a corner or something and he can't figure out how to get out. He also gets very agitated, mostly in the middle of the night, and I try everything I can think of to calm him. It usually takes all night and leaves me with only a few hours of sleep a night.

We bought him a cheap wheelchair on ebay, but it just doesn't work for him. It is too bulky and heavy and hard for him to move around in. I need something lighter for him, but those cost $300 and upwards.

I get burned-out taking care of him. It is exhausting and it seems I can't do anything or go anywhere without making sure he will be ok while I am gone, or finding someone (i.e., my husband) to watch him while I am gone. For instance, he quite often will wake up and thrash around and fall off the bed, so we need to be around to make sure that doesn't happen. Or he will often start whining pitifully and needs to be comforted (I sure hope that when I am at work all day he sleeps ok in his cage, but I have a feeling he whines all day because he is lonely :(

But I love those moments when he is mentally in a good place, where he will lick my nose and wag his tail (sort of) when he sees me. I love him so much!

2007 Bad Year for Pets I Know

1) February: On my boss's birthday, his dog died. Two days before her birthday, my co-worker's young cat died.

2) March: Pet food recalled for melamine contamination. Possibly thousands of pets killed or sickened. My dog is one of the sickened.

3) June: My brother's young dog collapses and dies of a heart ailment.

4) July: Five days before her birthday, my sister's cat died.

5) October: Eight days before my birthday, my cat died.

My caricature

I had never had my caricature drawn before, until this past Sunday. She put Ladybug, Cricket, and Treif in the picture too and is having me knit. I think she made me look way better than I really do. And I am skinny in the picture too!

It's all about money

As the weeks go by, and I replay in my mind over and over the events leading up to Ladybug's death, I realized a few things. I am still angry when I think about this one vet I took her to, about two years ago when I first started noticing she was losing weight, who basically pooh-poohed my concern. After the blood tests came back, and they were normal, she told me it was a behavioral problem. Another year went by and at Ladybug's next physical she had lost even more weight. A different vet (at the same practice) told me she appeared to be having some sort of absorption problem and I should give her probiotics and more easily digestable food. A few months later, only then did another vet suggest that it might be something like IBS or cancer.

At this point, I was faced with hundreds (if not thousands) more dollars I had to cough up if I wanted to find out what was going on. It would entail surgery, biopsies, more blood tests, etc. I thought that would be way too hard on her (and also I didn't want to go into credit card debt) and decided to treat her as if she had IBS. Finally, an ultrasound at yet another vet a few months later revealed a large mass in her small intestine which she thought was probably cancer. By then it was too late, all I could do was make her comfortable.

If it wasn't for the money... if I had tons of money I would have done everything in my power to figure out what was wrong earlier. I would have taken her to a vet that specializes in cats only (they would have recognized how serious weight loss is). In fact, the vet that ended up euthanizing her was a cats only vet, and I used to go to her but stopped going because of how expensive she was. I went to her desperate to save Ladybug, but instead, shaking her head, said that Ladybug had only a few days to live, at best.

If it wasn't for the money... no expense would have been spared, and at the very least, she would have been able to stay with me much longer, and at best, I could have treated her with chemo and radiation and it could have cured her and she would still be here.

My crochet and knit projects

Since Ladybug's death (and even before), I have been madly working on one project after another. I love to crochet (knit - not so much - but I will if I have to), and it is very relaxing and takes my mind off more troubling things.

Wow, there are even more I have done, but these are just a few.

Still devastated

I haven't been able to look at my blog since she died. Sometimes I try to peek, but I see her picture and the tears start to flow.

I wanted to write, however, about that day, the day she died. I had gotten up in the morning to go to work, and I offered her a fresh, open can of tuna. She turned her head away. I knew then I had to do something. At the time, I wasn't thinking of euthanasia; I just wanted to get her to a vet and I thought maybe they could put an i.v. in her or something (to hydrate and nourish her).

In the early afternoon at work, I was able to get an appointment for a cat doctor to see her. I went home at 1:00 and I picked her up from where she was sitting (she was still in the same place as when I left her at 8:00 am) and took her upstairs and put her on my lap. I patted her rump, something she always liked, and waited for the appointment. I even fell asleep at one point. Had I known then that that would be the last time I would have her on my lap, I wouldn't have slept! I would have cherished every moment.

When it was time for the appointment I put her in her carrier and told her, "no matter what happens, YOU WILL FEEL BETTER". In the car I told her how much I loved her, how pretty she was, and I sang to her the Bug-Bug song (where I chant Bug-Bug-Bug, Bug-Bug-Bug etc. to the tune of Jingle Bells). I often sang the Bug-Bug song to her (from her name, Ladybug) since the time I got her.

Normally on trips to the vet, she would protest (meow or jiggle the door), but this time she just sat there, her beautiful eyes looking out the windows. I will never forget that.

At the vet, she didn't like when the vet was examining her. She tried to get back in her carrier. When the vet was finished, she gave it to me straight: Ladybug was at death's door and would probably not live another two days. At the moment, she was not in much pain - but she would be soon. She was jaundiced, dehydrated, anemic, and weighed only THREE pounds. When the vet palpated her abdomen, she couldn't even tell the organs apart - the cancer was seemingly growing them together into an indistinguishable mass. I knew this was it.

As soon as we decided that she was to be euthanized, Ladybug laid down on the examining table looking around. She was so calm. I was wondering why she wasn't trying to get back in her carrier. Maybe it was just because the vet was no longer touching her, I don't know. While the vet went to get the paperwork for me to sign, I crouched down and talked to her. I asked my guardian angels to please look after her. I asked Ladybug to please come and visit me. When I was talking to her, she looked straight at me, and then looked above my head and then to her left. I wondered if she could see anything, or was she just looking at the posters on the wall??

The vet injected her in her hind end, and then placed her on a towel and handed her to me. I sat with her until she was asleep. She was in a deep sleep, and the last time I ever saw her was when the vet took her from me and I saw that her eyes were wide open, yet she was asleep. In another room the vet administered the final injection and then came to tell me she was gone. It was probably the most devastating thing I had ever gone through. Not even the deaths of my grandparents or a friend from high school affected me as much. I cried as I have never cried before. When I got home my husband was afraid to leave me (he had an evening meeting to go to) for fear I would do something to myself. He had a friend call me to make sure I was ok.

I am grieving deeply for Ladybug. I miss her so much, that sometimes I don't want to live without her. I know I must. I have people and other animals that need me. But I wish I could just be in spirit too so I could be with her. I cry almost daily. What is also distressing is that I had asked for her to visit me when she was in spirit, but I have not detected anything from her. Not even a dream. My husband said that one night he could feel a cat walking on him (NOT my other cat Cricket - she weighs 15 pounds and he would have known the difference) and the other evening he saw a cat jump on a table out of the corner of his eye, but there was no one there when he looked directly.

If that is her, why is she not appearing to me? I do want to believe that this life is not all there is, but it is so hard to when you don't see/hear/smell/sense any evidence.

On top of all this is the guilt I have for various reasons: 1) I should have tried harder to help her. When she was first losing weight I should have kept questioning what the vets were telling me (her blood tests were always perfect, so they told me it was probably nothing to worry about) and 2) I should have paid more attention to her. When I got the dog, I was so tied up in all his health problems that I virtually ignored her. And 3) I am grieving for a cat, when there are thousands of people dying every day in this stupid war in Iraq, in Darfur, Afghanistan, you name it. Also the hundreds of thousands of people that have no place to live, or live below the poverty line, etc. etc. I could go on and on.

So grieving for a cat may seem silly, but it is my reality and it HURTS.

~ 1994 - October 9, 2007

Rest in peace my baby.

Is the waiting the hardest part?

She is slowly dying. She still wants to eat, but when she tries she loses interest almost immediately. When we cook, she cries for the food, but when we give her some she tries to eat it but can't. She is still drinking, but spends the rest of her days sleeping. I occasionally find poop on the carpet; evidence of painful elimination (thus she avoids the litterbox). She can jump up on some furniture, but not all. And when she jumps down she usually lands on her side and then struggles up.

So I continue to administer prednisone to her; I force-feed pumpkin to her (to help soften her bowels) and have her sit on my lap so I can pat her stomach. She seems to really like that. This is all I can do for her - and wait. Wait for her to let me know it is time (as some people have told me will happen - I doubt that), or wait for the day I wake up and find her gone.

When she is gone, will I still cry every day? Or will a weight be lifted from my shoulders - she will no longer be suffering, and I will no longer have to see her like that. Will I feel guilt and anguish for not figuring out sooner what was wrong with her? or having to euthanize her?

Today my husband asked me how my life will be different without her. I don't care how my life will be; I just care about her life. Will she go to a better place, or is there just nothing? If she does go to a better place, will anyone be there to take care of her?

She's still hanging on...

Every day I wake up and wonder if she is still alive. She is hanging in there. She had been taking two doses of prednisone every day, but I reduced it to only one, because it was making her feel sicker. Now she will actually eat a little bit every day and seem interested in food. And I decided to let her eat whatever she wants. The vet said to feed her a raw canned food diet, but she was turning her nose up at it. It think it's better to eat a little bit of crappy food, than no food at all. After all, we're talking about quality of life. The raw food diet is supposed to slow the growth of the cancer, but if she is not eating it, then what is the point?

Ladybug is now so light, that when I put her on my digital scale, it stays at "0".

BTW, please ignore my ugly mug. I wasn't exactly "made-up" for the camera.

In a previous post, I talked about my cat Ladybug and how she kept me up at night wanting to eat all the time. Since then I have spent almost $1000 in vet bills to figure out what is wrong with her. She got test after test, xrays, etc. and everything was always normal. However, she was losing weight (down to 5 lbs from 9 lbs) but still eating constantly.

Today she had an ultrasound and there was a large mass detected in her small intestine. It is almost certainly a cancer (lymphosarcoma). With her age (about 13) I decided not to subject her to surgery, since it would be awfully hard on her, and won't be a cure (most cancer cells from lymphosarcomas circulate into the cat's blood - the whole system is affected). Not to mention it would be another $1000 and then some. So I am treating her with steriods to try to "buy some time".

People who don't have a connection to pets just don't understand how devastating losing one is. And knowing that I will lose her probably within the next year, is going to be very hard to deal with. She is here with me now, and I can't grasp the fact that eventually she will not be here. I always had a problem with that. How can someone be here and then not be here? I am finding it difficult to express what I mean so I will end this post now.

Dog or cat?

You Are: 50% Dog, 50% Cat

You are a nice blend of cat and dog. You're playful but not too needy. And you're friendly but careful. And while you have your moody moments, you're too happy to stay upset for long.

Are You More Cat or Dog?

My Grandmother

She was so talented! I took this picture of a bunch of doilies she made. The picture doesn't do them justice. They are just beautiful. I keep them put away because they are too pretty to use. I plan on learning how to do this kind of thing myself (just as soon as I am through with my other crochet projects).

Boy I regret not having her teach me herself. But I was a bratty teenager at that time and I didn't care. Hindsight is 20/20, as they say. I hope wherever she is now that she knows that I am so sorry.

Cars I've Owned

My first car was a Reliant K! I just loved it; at the time, however, I didn't know that it was a very nerdy car to have. I remember asking the girl next door if she wanted a ride in it, and she was very polite, but I could tell she was unimpressed and even embarrassed that I asked.



My second car was a Pontiac Sunbird. I can't remember where I got it, but I know the reason I got it was because an ex-friend of mine had an older version, and I wanted to have one that was "better" than hers.


My third car was an Oldsmobile Cultlass Calais. I loved that car. I drove it for prit' near 10 years. It was in four accidents, the trunk leaked whenever it rained (a result of one of the accidents) and it didn't have any power anything (except steering), but I loved it. When I wanted to trade it in for my next car, the dealership wouldn't take it for a trade-in because it was such a piece of crap. So I gave it to my brother, who drove it another couple of years until it fell apart.

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So my next car was a Pontiac Sunfire. I saw it when my Dad was using one for a loner car; I went right out and bought one. I loved that car too, even though it too had no power windows, locks, keyless entry, etc. It was really fun to drive. I would probably still have it if it were not for 9/11. A month after that, the country was going crazy and I decided I was worried about the economy and that buying a new car would be me doing my part. What a stupid idea. I got a Saturn L100, which was an ok car, but it had NOTHING on it. It was one of those deals that either you paid around $16,000 to have no options, or you paid in the $20,000 and above range to get the options. I couldn't afford that.

About three years later, after I got married, my husband needed to buy a new car because his had died and wasn't fixable. He wanted a Toyota. So I decided to get rid of my Saturn while I had a chance. We both picked out, unknowingly to each other, a Matrix. When I found out that was what he wanted, I let him have it and decided to get an Echo. But the dealership didn't want to sell me one of those. They had Corollas sitting on their lot that they wanted to get rid of during their 1.2% financing sale. So I picked out a Corolla. I could have at least gotten a white one (I like white cars), but NO, I got a tan one.



So this is the car I have now. Why does it bore me so? It looks great and is a fine car. Yes, I know... I am lucky to even be able to have a new car, when others can't, and I know, there are worse things in the world. But this post is about cars. Along with other self-help books I am reading about various subjects, I should be reading one about why I can't be happy and thankful for what I have, and also one on being materialistic. This car will be paid off in another year-and-a-half, and for probably the first time in my adult life I will have no car payments to make! Let's see if I can hold onto it and resist the urge to get yet another one.

More about animals...

My husband emailed this to me. He found it at ritualwell.org. It made me feel better knowing some attention was paid to animals in the Torah:

Rabbinic tradition makes clear God's role as the caretaker of all forms of life: "The Holy One, blessed be God, sits and sustains [all life], from the horns of the wild oryx to the eggs of lice." (Babylonian Talmud Shabbat. 107b) "Human and creature You preserve, Adonai." (Psalm 36:7) "In whose hand is the soul of every living thing and the breath of all humankind." (Job 12:10) "You open Your hand and satisfy every living thing with favor." (Psalm 145:16).


Created in God's image, we, too, seek to sustain all life. In the Book of Samuel, the prophet Nathan tells David about the relationship of a poor man and a little lamb: "He tended it, and it grew up together with him and his children: it used to share his morsel of bread, drink from his cup, and nestle in his bosom; it was like a daughter to him." (II Samuel 12:3) Such was this man's bond of love for his animal companion. Similarly, on a daily basis, many of us take care of our precious pets, our beloved animal-children, by feeding and sheltering them, by petting, walking, and playing with them. And, at the same time, in sustaining life, we are sustained. According to Rab, the sign of protection which God gave to Cain was a dog. (Genesis Rabbah 22:12) Like Cain's dog, our devoted companions protect and take care of us not only physically but also emotionally and spiritually. Ours is gratitude and reverence for their honest and humble example, generosity of spirit, and unconditional love.


Amen.

Do spiders have souls?

I know my post of June 18 was kind of a disturbing one (at least my husband didn't like it) but I was in a mood when I wrote it. I was really worried about an upcoming doctor appointment where I was to get a biopsy. It got me thinking of my own mortality (at least, I began to think about it even more than I usually do). And the last thing I needed/need is for someone to tell me that this is all there is. I suppose I should just stay away from the internet and the subject, but I can't help myself. I search for some kind of comfort, like personal accounts of ghosts and spirits which might convince me that there is something more to this life.

Other thoughts about this subject bother me, like when people claim that only humans have a soul. I believe that everything, down to insects, has some kind of "life force" - I just don't know what happens next. If I squash that spider I saw in my living room the other day, does it descend to heaven where its relatives and "God" are there to greet it? It sounds ridiculous. What about the trillions and trillions of other insects, fish, animals, one-celled organisms, etc. that exist and that EVER existed?

The only explanation that makes sense is what someone said on this site I was looking at once:

"It is said that when animals pass they return to a universal animal conciousness, but with pets, because we love them, they become part of our circle of life and therefore are waiting for us when we pass. We give them an individuality (and they give us love) that they would not have received in the wild, and therefore they become part of our circle of love and life."

What is love? Is it also a "life force" that has some kind of power? Is love really "God" then?

Clean garages

What is up with people who have NOTHING in their garages (except their car)? Walking my dog tonight, I saw several where these people have absolutely nothing in there. No storage boxes, no hoses, no tools, no junk, no nothing. Are they beings from another planet? Aliens? Because I have never met a regular person who doesn't have a garage overflowing with stuff.

I don't feel grown up

At what point does one feel like a grown-up? I am 40 years old, and I am at the age that when I was a kid, seemed ancient. I still feel like I am a teenager. I drive a car that has a steering wheel cover that has lady bugs and flowers on it, there are stuffed animals in my back seat, and cute dangling things hanging from my rear view mirror. The other day it occurred to me that some might think my car belonged to a 16 year-old. But that is the way I want it.

When shopping, I am always drawn to toys and stuffed animals. One thing I like to do is look through the toy aisles at all the cool stuff kids can get now-a-days. I would have loved it!

Maybe it's because I never had my own children. They say that makes you grow up quick! I have only ever had myself to take care of. Now that I am married and a stepmother, it is taking me awhile to get it through my head that I have others that need me now, so I need to step up.

Anyway, this was just something I was thinking about earlier this evening. I wonder if others feel the same way I do.

I am mad at the atheists

I am just so mad right now. Why do atheists seem so happy when declaring their belief that there is nothing after life?

A little background: I have always been fearful of death, since I was a kid. I remember lying in bed in the dark and realizing that someday I will not exist, and it was painful thinking about it. I had to shake my head and desperately try to think of something else to make me feel better. Sometimes I would cry myself to sleep about it.

I've lost my grandparents, my favorite aunt, a few childhood friends, and many pets to death, and I just can't grasp the fact that they do not exist now. I feel like they just went somewhere else - where, I don't know.

Anyway, I read a lot of books on NDE's hoping something would comfort me and convince me that I have nothing to worry about. In the present, I do a lot of internet searches to find something to make me feel better. This is where I get angry: the majority of the sites I find are by people spouting their beliefs that when you die, that is it, you simply don't exist anymore, and your essence doesn't exist either. They are so firm in their beliefs that they seem almost gleeful about it. Gee, so you're happy that all you're going to be in the end is worm-food? I don't understand it.

Why can't people admit that they can't be sure about this? The universe is so vast and seemingly unending, we couldn't possibly grasp the magnitude - why do we presume to think that this place is all there is? Isn't it conceivable, even a little bit, that there could be more than this life on earth? And isn't it conceivable that we could be a part of it too?

STOP MAKING ME FEEL BAD!

Things that make me happy

By nature, I am such a negative person. That is the way I was raised. My father was constantly worried about "what could go wrong" and he never really trusted anyone, and so that is how I came to have my negative attitude. Or maybe it was genetics and it couldn't be helped.

Anyway, I was sitting here thinking that I should really try to overcome my negative thoughts - let's see what I come up with:

1. Chocolate. This includes hot fudge sundaes, chocolate cake, even semi-sweet chocolate. Generally, anything covered in chocolate is good.
2. Hearing my dog and my husband snoring. For some reason, it is comforting. They seem happy and content when they're sleeping and that makes me happy too.
3. Watching my cats and my dog eat, play, and sleep. They're so cute.
4. Knitting and crocheting. When I make something that looks really good, I get a great sense of accomplishment. And when the person I give it to is really happy about it, that makes me happy too.
5. Taking photographs. I have tons of digital photos of my nieces and nephews, and of course, my animals!
6. The smell of fresh, cut grass.
7. Watching my flowers on my patio bloom.
8. Shopping!
9. Seeing fireflies light up in the evenings.
10. Hearing the crickets and tree frogs on a quiet night.

That was really hard. For a pessimist, I really had to sit and think hard. But maybe if I practice everyday it will become easier. Yeah, right. Oops...there's that "stinkin' thinkin'" again. Dammit!

Happiness is...

watching my pets sleep. Their cuteness, their obvious comfort, makes me wish I could curl up and sleep all day too.