Acorns and Swan Gourds

Is that the fricken coolest gourd ever or what??? I had to get it even if it will only end up being a decoration (you can eat them, right?). There were so many weird ones at the store, but this one hooked over my arm juuuust right while I finished shopping. People kept double-taking and giggling. I don't blame 'em. This wasn't even the most hilarious one, and I wanted to get more, but that would be frivolous, and besides, I was starting to feel kind of silly walking around with this thing, and if I had THREE I might have started blushing with all the staring going on. I blush easily, and it is RED. Anyway, I'm glad I got it. It's sitting propped up on the counter and every time I look at it I just get a kick out of how weird and pretty it is.

Oh man, and speaking of people thinking I'm silly... yesterday around dusk I was out picking up acorns for the kitties. I was watching the ground, not where I was going, and had wandered up the neighbors driveway without realizing he was standing there watching me (it was the cool dad at least).
"Uh... what are you doing?" I suddenly heard.
"HAHA! Oh, heh heh, collecting acorns, 'cause my cats like to play with them...."
"OHHHH, I thought someone threw a bunch of money on the ground or something!" We both laughed, and he helped me collect some while we chatted a bit. Some times I get a WEE bit caught up in my own little world, but it was really funny. Money, heehee, funny stuff!

The Official (new) Plan, pt. 2

Okay, so here's the miracle. Not these flowers, although, come to think of it, they are kinda miraculous. Anyway, my miracle wasn't winning the lottery, in fact, I think it's better than that. I've been deep down in a blue funk for, oh, a couple years now. Land for sale I'd been watching was going from 20 grand to fifty grand, while my savings were going the other direction. Not that they were ever that high. My log cabin or yurt shrank to a two man tent. Although, I hear from a reliable source (Teryn! ;)) that yurts are darn loud in the rain. Make it a lean-to? But where would I PUT this lean-to? Dad's yard is beautifully landscaped, I wouldn't mind waking up to that everyday. What's that Dad? The zoning's all wrong? Haha, suuure. Kidding aside, I bet my dad would let me move in, and I bet my Granny would, too. But what I really needed was an escape with a future. And I didn't want to be a burden, financially, I mean. Like my faaabulous personality could ever be a burden! Psshht!


I mentioned when I got back from my vacation that I'd had all these mind blowing epiphanies, and boy have they been stewing at a low boil ever since. But none of these thoughts or the miracle would have been possible without my Mom and Potterman. An open mindset, and willingness for change, internal and external, are helpful in making this work, but it's those two who really offered me a miracle with open arms and hearts.
We went out for a walk together, my first full day there, and this was the view.
"This is where we'd put the trailer, and this is where your driveway would be."
"This would be your view!"
"Come look over here, this huge open part is where your garden would go!"
"This tree's dead, we'll have to take it out.."
At this point I couldn't say a word, because my throat squeezed all tight, and you know how I good I am at crying when someone is there to see- can't... do.. it...! I hope they didn't take my silence and looking away for disinterest, but it took a heck of a lot of control to not start bawling. I wanted to say thank you, so, so, so much, but to utter a word would be to open the floodgates. There was more:
"The plumbing would be no problem with where our septic system already is- you'd have your very own fully functional place."
"You'll get your own little propane tank, and that way you'll still be financially responsible for yourself..."
"Rent? NO! We love you, and besides, theres plenty of room, heck, we can ignore each other if we need our space. We won't even be able to see each other's places. It wouldn't cost us a penny more, just pitch in on electric, and internet and stuff."
OMG, there's even high speed internet???
"Plus you're more than welcome to do yardwork, and I really could use your help with my tiles, and I could pay you."
Are you sure? Are you really, really sure? You won't get sick of me? Okay, that last was a silly thing to ask, c'mon, I rule! But still, over the course of the trip, I had to ask them both, seperately and together, were they sure? Really? And I had to ask myself, too. Am I ready to just quit a job that, on the surface, seems like the key to a stable future? Am I ready to be just flyin' in the wind like that? Am I ready to try a different kind of independence, one where I allow myself to accept help from others without feeling like I failed somehow for not being able to do it all myself? Am I ready to move away from the area I have lived in since I was three, the place I grew up, the landscapes I love? And most importantly, away from people I love? That last one makes me get watery-eyed all over again. Of course, I'll also be moving TO people I love.
I have had a lot of time to consider, in fact, they let me know this opportunity was available a year ago, so it's been a subconcious idea for awhile. When I went, and saw, and heard... I realized how right it felt. I felt happy and alive and excited, and I still do. I feel hope. I know there will be second thoughts, and doubts, and worries, but I know it's the right decision, because the happiness and excitement and hope are ogres against tiny ants of fear. Fear of making such a gigantic change to my life. Ever since I made this choice, though, I've had countless moments of hope and relief and joy and wowness. I'm moving to Arizona!

Fricken Macken

Arrrrrrg I can't get my pics up!!!! Stupid free blogging service! I have an entire post written but must.. have... pictures!!! Ack arg doh! Trying some more.....

The Official (new) Plan

"Ting ting ting!" (fork thwacking champagne glass) I would like to make an announcement. Ok, well, I already told s11ome p1eople- how rude, my 1 key is sticking. Digression!!
'Ol haystack, aka Lilly the vicious killer, spilled water on my keyboard, and now the shift, control, and option keys don't work. In fact, let's just say that every typo is the keyboards fault. I have my old keyboard... which I spilled beer on and the 1, c, and b keys stick. Does that make me mama haystack? I just started calling her that, even though it's always been a trait of hers- tipping the avalanche that is the potential state of any horizontal surface in my house. The straw that, you know, with the poor camel and all. Okay, it's a roundabout way to her nickname. I bet she likes it better than Miss Fluffybutt, though. I'll take a picture sometime HAHAHA.

Ok, so, I have a 40+ hour a week job, with benefits, vacation days, sick days, and a retirement plan. I held up my end of the bargain, for 7 years now. The bargain being, work hard at a good job, get a home, start a family, and wave your American flag while eating apple pie and watching baseball. Yeah, obviously, someone pulled the wool over my eyes there. Not only do I feel betrayed, I also feel like an idiot for having believed it. I remember when I was an angst driven, spiked collar, THREE wallet chain, steel-toe boot stompin', black-only wearing teenager, and I was majorly pissed off because kids are raised on happily ever after, when life is obviously not so much. Somehow, though, I didn't equate the falsehood of fairy tales with the equally misleading and oversimplified american dream. Dumbass!

I feel guilty for feeling miserable. I know I'm lucky to have food, shelter, etc. But, feeling ashamed for being depressed doesn't help. Neither does imagining starving kids in Ethiopia or slaughtered families in Sudan. Actually, if that stuff DID cheer you up, I'd run away from you. I read those stories and I tell myself that I'm luckier by far than people like that, and how dare I complain or be unhappy? And if this job and this place are so awful why don't I just quit?!?!

Well, that WAS the plan. Save up for a tiny chunk of land, and go live in a tent eating bugs and leaves if only to get away. (Please, please not bugs.) Except that it costs SO much to live here that savings are as realistic as pink elephants. I've only seen purple elephants, so.... not being able to afford even the tent and bug escape plan, I was feling pretty hopeless. I was certain that the only a miracle could save me from a life lived out in one room apartments and being unhappy, and beating nyself up for being unhappy! And holy crap, a miracle happened. (Holy crap and miracle in one sentence, is that, umm, blasphemous?)

I have to go eat dinner now, lucky American that I am, so I will have to bleed your eyes with boredom for the rest of the story tomorrow. There will be much happiness, and pretty pictures! It turns out Blogger is just PICKY about which pictures I choose. These two were runners up. They are more expounding on the yay that is Arizona- a wild poppy and a herd of daisy looking things. Jeez, I didn't even make my announcement, I was so busy running my monologue. Tomorrow!

P.S. Thank you for making me feel like I'm not overreacting about neighborhood safety! Y'all make me feel all warm an squishy!! :P

I Love Statistics But I Hate These Numbers

On sale now! This fixer upper reduced to only $999,899!!

The median home price in my county came out today: $770,000
Homes sold for $1,000,000 or more: 21%
Homes sold for $600,000 or less: 17%
Average rental price for a 1 bedroom apt/ house: $1,100
Average rental price for a 2 bedroom apt/ house: $1,590
Number of husbands making income equal to mine I'd need to buy my own home: 3.8... or, I guess we could share a 2 bedroom house with another couple... or live in a studio forever... we'll put the bassinet on the counter between the toaster and the fridge! :D
Or if I get really lucky I could buy a red tagged "scraper" for $395,000, that is, when I have $80,000 to put down. I won't hold my breath. Tell me again why I live here?

Doesn't Brake For Pets

This is not a pretty, kind, cheerful post. Feel free to skip it. I try to only watch happy movies, and read happy things, and, in fact, write as positively as I can, because I think that's what this world needs most, plus escapeism is a high priority for me. I try not to be offensive, a whiner, or a downer. But fact is, sometimes stuff sucks, and sometimes we can't keep it all inside. I don't feel like I have any course of action available to me when things like this happen, except to record it.


This car doesn't brake for pets. I would like it if my cats stayed out of the driveway. I share it with the neighbor, so it dead ends at their house, next to mine. Driveways should be safe for cats, dogs, and children, and if I'm being too much of an idealist, I still think that cars should watch out for pets and kids MORE than the other way around, though critters and youg ones should still take care.
There have been countless times that I've been woken in the middle of the night by cars tearing down this driveway, revving the engine, and giving me an adrenaline fueled panic/ rage that becomes insomnia. The father is a very decent man, but his kid, well he's what reflects poorly on young adults, the stereotypical bad kid. His father has told me that he's at a loss for how to get his son in line.
I have never felt safe enough to say anything, not even tonight when I watched one of this kid's friends, driving this Mazda Tribute, not even touch the brakes for my cat. He was going fast enough that my heart started pounding fast and hard. I was standing right there, and he obviously didn't give a crap. Why am I too afraid to say anything? Because I fear retribution. I'm afraid that I will only come off as, well, a bitch. And that next time, instead of avoiding the brakes, maybe they will hit the gas.
I know this sounds like a pessimistic, uncharitable view of my fellow humans, but all I have to go by is experience. Tonight, my cat was quick enough, barely, to live. I've held a cat in my arms as he died vomiting blood, and I'll never know if he was accidentaly poisoned... or not. Will the next car be too fast? Will the next poisoning be accidental? What can I do? The only solution I have ever been able to come up with is to run away, far away, to where there are no neighbors. On the other hand, having to flee from a society that I have just as much right to be in, safely and without fear, as the next person, doesn't seem right. Hell, maybe I'm overreacting. But I'd rather act before I lose another furry family member, than after. Even if fleeing is the only answer I can come up with. That, and doccumenting it. So here's the record. I hope I never have to write one that ends worse.

Sixty Degrees and Raining Rodents

Oh the wonderous joy, it rained. It's been four or five months, and I had completely forgotten how incredibly wonderful and cleansing it is. The air smells so fresh, and the dust is settled. The plants are all heavy and drooping.
It's 60 degrees out right now, up from 50 when I went out this morning. I don't know if we'll get more rain, but it's gray out, which I love. We're in "stage 2" water conservation, whatever that means, but that's what the signs posted all over the 'hood say. We'd need about 40 times more rain to get back to normal. We're under a mandatory 20% water usage reduction per household rule right now, which disgruntles me. It would be one thing to give every one a set gallon per day usage, but a 20% reduction? That means the people who hose down their driveway everyday have to cut down to, what, 5 days a week instead? Whereas those of us who already conserve as much as possible should what? Umm, drink beer instead of water? (Ooooh...) I don't have a lawn. I use 3 watering cans every third day for my garden. I turn off the water while brushing my teeth- I know a lot of people just let it run. I'm registered green party, man! My car gets washed once a year! Ok, maybe I shouldn't admit that, heehee.

Anyway, I went out to just enjoy the beautiful day, and hang out with my kitties. I thought the rain would have knocked down a bunch of acorns, and it did, so I tossed some for the cats, all 5 of whom flocked around. Now, you know when you're hanging out with some one, and you see something cool? You point it out, because you want to share. When I'm out with the cats and I find something I know they'll like, like a feather, I call them over and point it out. Usually they have a good sniff, and that's that.

Well. I saw a dead rat, not rain soaked, so I guess fresh from this morning. I know, I know, I am so weird. And I wasn't really thinking ahead when I called over the kitties, especially the kittens, who are extra curious youths. I SWEAR I thought they would just sniff it.
But it seems that fresh rat is the best thing since sliced bread. Ok, eeeew, sliced bread and dead rat do NOT belong in the same sentence.
Guess who's not getting snuggles anytime soon?? I SAW where those paws have been! I tried to stop them, because, uh, germs much? Shudder. Yet I couldn't help laughing at the sheer exuberance Maggie and her sister Sebastian bounced around with.
I finally distracted them with acorn skipping and then shoveled a bunch of duff over the corpse. Poor lil rat. Oh gad, come to think of it, I'm glad they didn't actually start EATING it. Aaaaaand now I'm changing the subject. It's always good to be able to laugh at your own jokes, but to be able to gross yourself out? Why didn't I think of this BEFORE I pointed out the dead rodent?

Ah, well. It's a beautiful weekend, the cats are happy, I'm happy, even the trees are happy (I can tell) and I guess a little rodent toss is just part and parcel when you love cats. It's just going to have to be love from afar for awhile. Yuck.

Feral Kitten Sauna

I was 14 when "Indecent Proposal" came out, and I wanted to see it soooo bad, but I wasn't allowed to watch rated R movies. When I finally saw it, I wasn't that impressed. It was okay. Well, when I was 13 and 14, my favorite show in the universe was Beverly Hills 90210. Shhh, I know, but I was far from alone. After Beverly Hills, Melrose Place came on, and I wanted to watch that, too, but again, couldn't (it started at my bedtime on a school night). So MP came out on dvd, and my netflix list had dipped below a hundred. I thought, yay I can finally watch it! Well... that show was the most embarassing thing I think I've ever seen. I won't be getting the rest of the season. Talk about cheese factor 5000. TV has come a loooong way in 15 years. Just thought I'd share that... maybe as a helpful movie hint? Don't get stuff that you thought was cool 15 years ago. You could probably apply that to a lot more than just movies. Clothes, haircuts, cassette players, computers that take floppy discs- that are actually floppy. Anyhoo...

In kitty news, I'm going to see what I can do to get the kittens everything they need AND keep their ears intact. I'll see if I can wheel and deal some bargains. Maggie found out that the best spot to sleep is up against the oh so cozy and warm fishtank light. And in case she gets too warm? The fountain-like filter will keep her other side nice and cool! Silly kitten!

Oh yeah, the "mystery plant"? Yup, four o' clocks all right.

My feral kitten dilema

I took these kittens in, to save them from growing past the point of taming and then being caught and killed. I took the responsibility to have them spayed and to find them a good loving home. Which turned out to be the same home I live in. Strange. They're still feral, unless the human in question is me, and then they're tame as... kittens. Wait. I mean, they're so loving and sweet and cuddly, but only with me. They even come when I call (this has NOTHING to do with treats, I SWEAR). Actually, CommonLaw bought some very special treats to make friends with them, but they still think I'm the next best thing to ol' Mommydad Clarence. I digress with my cat pleasin' ego.

Now that Maggie is on probation and not fully grounded, both kittens are really learning to handle the wide world. Which means it's time to get them spayed, and vaccinated, so as not to perpetuate the cycle. There are organizations, like Project Purr, which will do these neccessary medical procedures for minimal fees, and some, like Adobe, don't even take the cats overnight, or expect you to keep a feral, caged, pissed off cat in your home while it recuperates. Not that that would be a problem in my case. My coworker, however, took in some of the ferals behind our office and then had to house them for a while. These were not loving and cuddly like mine, they were wild adults.

Anyway, here's the problem. I can take Maggie and Sebastian to Adobe, and for a measly 25 dollars each they will get spayed AND shots. It would be 400 dollars each if I took them to a regular vet. But Adobe, and Project Purr, mark the cats that they've treated, to prevent recapture and unecessary handling. By cutting off the tip of one ear.

It's noticeable, it has to be. Now, I know that after the initial trauma and pain, Maggie and Sebastian will recover just fine. They won't suffer ostracism by their perfectly-formed-ear peers. And I am a die hard believer in inner beauty... but... that doesn't mean I have anything against external beauty. It brings tears to my eyes imagining them disfigured for life. I could afford to have them spayed, 40 dollars each at the vet, for starters. But it could take up to a year to afford all their shots, during which time they would be vulnerable to awful things like lukemia and rabies and who knows what else. I have a little time, because they need to be 4 pounds, and while Sebastian, the little porker, might be that weight, I think poor Maggie was stunted or something by her two outdoor adventures. She's all tiny and delicate, but still, it's not something I can put off. I just don't want them marred like that. :*(

What would you do?

Eulogy for the Glories

I waited for this for so long. I came home from my trip to these two periwinkle colored blooms, and the next day, a fuchia one. I tried planting these last year, soaked the seeds over night and evrything, and they never sprouted. This year, when September hit, I thought my sad three foot vines with about 8 leaves each were doomed to be flowerless, and I'd have to wait a whole year again. And then these lovely flowers took me completely by surprise, with countless (ok, five) more buds promising to add color to my garden. (The pink bud a couple weeks ago lived it's entire life in the space of a ten hour work day, so I never got to see it.) Considering I get about two hours of direct sun a day, I was pretty proud of myself. And to ice the ol' cake, the mystery plant popped a flower as well. I was so dang pleased. Was. Yes, I'm afraid... all deer must die. Ok, ok, deer are cute, and I love watching my cats stalking them, fully believing they can take down a creature 20 times their size. But why did they have to eat only those two plants??? The squash? Still blooming away. The warped, clownish cucumbers, untouched. My mystery plant and entire morning glory vine.... shredded. Brutalized. Deflowered. I am sad. :(

Ok, now what the heck is this flower?? It's something embarassingly common that everyone but me knows, isn't it. C'mon, tell me, pleeeease. The plant is about 3 feet tall, but the ones I gathered the seeds from are a bushy four feet, they come in every color and then some (orange with pink stripes? cool!) and they die in the winter, down to nothing. I can never remember if that's annual or perennial. Anyway, let the mystery plant be a mystery no more! And FINE the deer can live, but I'm sprinkling crushed red pepper over my entire (remaining) garden. And I'm hiding the water. So when them woodland cows get some burning tongues they will think again!!! Grrrrrrrr.