Sunday, August 5, 2007
Jasper and I are getting along well. While he was out from behind the washing machine last night, I slid a storm window panel between the utility sink and the washing machine, so he can't get back there any more.
He has chosen a replacement spot on a bottom shelf. There's a cooler and a stack of towels on the floor in front of that spot, so he feels safe.
When I walk in the room now, he comes right out. Loves getting head and neck scratches, rolls around on the floor waving his paws in the air. He's very gentle when we play fight. I've noticed that he "kneads" a lot, even when he's just sitting and waiting.
I've been getting him used to being picked up. Just little lifts, moving him from one spot to a more desirable spot, like closer to the food, for example.
He's still eating like every kibble is his last, but he's still ignoring the litter box. I haven't the faintest idea where he's "going". There's no odor. It's possible he's constipated, but his belly's not hard, and --- he's still eating.
I started out with that white stuff in the litter pan, but I thought maybe the bits were too sharp for his paws, so I switched to Miss Thunderfoot's usual pine sawdust pellets. Then I added some "samples" from Miss Thunderfoot's litter box. He was very interested in sniffing them, but didn't seem to take the hint.
I'm afraid I may have to go outside and cut a piece of sod for him! I wonder if he prefers grass, dirt, or mulch.
.
Sunday, August 05, 2007
1413 Good News, I Hope
Sunday, August 5, 2007
Got an email from Sister this afternoon.
Our youngest brother has been "lost" for years. We didn't know where he was, even whether he was alive or dead. When last seen, he wasn't healthy, living was precarious.
Sister (in Florida) says she was in a bar with a group of people and a man came over and asked if a stool was taken. It was. She thought he looked familiar, so later she went over to him and introduced herself. It was Youngest Brother. He hadn't recognized her, which is interesting because she has changed very little.
I gather it was an emotional reunion. He said he's got control of his life now, a car, a job. Sister says he's supposed to visit her home this evening.
I'm not sure how I feel about it. I'm happy that he seems to be back on track. On the other hand, deep down in the protective part, I'm thinking I don't want to find him and lose him all over again. I don't know how to react to him. Sometimes letting go is easier than holding on.
He was born when I was 15. Mom had a lot of difficulty with the birth, and he came home from the hospital several months before she did. Even after she came home, she was unable to care for him, so through his infancy and much of his toddlerhood, he was essentially my baby.
It was the effort to protect him that had me twice planning to kill my father.
It was realizing that I would go to those lengths to protect him, but our mother made no effort to protect us, that lead to my breakthrough.
And then he grew up, and things happened, choices were made, and there was nothing I could do. I couldn't protect or help him any more.
Sometimes letting go is easier than holding on.
.
Got an email from Sister this afternoon.
Our youngest brother has been "lost" for years. We didn't know where he was, even whether he was alive or dead. When last seen, he wasn't healthy, living was precarious.
Sister (in Florida) says she was in a bar with a group of people and a man came over and asked if a stool was taken. It was. She thought he looked familiar, so later she went over to him and introduced herself. It was Youngest Brother. He hadn't recognized her, which is interesting because she has changed very little.
I gather it was an emotional reunion. He said he's got control of his life now, a car, a job. Sister says he's supposed to visit her home this evening.
I'm not sure how I feel about it. I'm happy that he seems to be back on track. On the other hand, deep down in the protective part, I'm thinking I don't want to find him and lose him all over again. I don't know how to react to him. Sometimes letting go is easier than holding on.
He was born when I was 15. Mom had a lot of difficulty with the birth, and he came home from the hospital several months before she did. Even after she came home, she was unable to care for him, so through his infancy and much of his toddlerhood, he was essentially my baby.
It was the effort to protect him that had me twice planning to kill my father.
It was realizing that I would go to those lengths to protect him, but our mother made no effort to protect us, that lead to my breakthrough.
And then he grew up, and things happened, choices were made, and there was nothing I could do. I couldn't protect or help him any more.
Sometimes letting go is easier than holding on.
.
1412 New House
Saturday, August 4, 2007
Nice of you to have found your way here. Welcome to my new home.
I moved without leaving a forwarding address, but I am fully aware I haven't hidden completely. A determined searcher will still find me, but not for a while, and I would hope that the effort wouldn't be worth it.
Don't forget to change your Bloglines subscription, if you have one.
.
Nice of you to have found your way here. Welcome to my new home.
I moved without leaving a forwarding address, but I am fully aware I haven't hidden completely. A determined searcher will still find me, but not for a while, and I would hope that the effort wouldn't be worth it.
Don't forget to change your Bloglines subscription, if you have one.
.
Saturday, August 04, 2007
1411 Recycle Rant
Saturday, August 4, 2007
My internet connection is now cellular (wireless) broadband. When I connect, it casts around to find a "path". I can see where I'm connected through, on SiteMeter.com. I am amused that sometimes I'm "in" Colorado, or Indiana, or Pennsylvania. Today I was surprised to find that I'm connected through the District of Columbia, specifically the Washington Navy Yard. Wow. That surprises me.
-------------------------------
I took a load of stuff to the recycle center today. There are usually two paid workers there, and maybe one or two volunteers. It was very hot today, so they were all hiding out in the shed, in front of a fan.
Man, if I volunteered there, within hours I'd be thoroughly disgusted with people in general. It would be very bad for me.
I can't believe people dump cans and bottles in the bin without so much as rinsing them out. How can they do that? The smell? The way dirty cans attract wasps? Have they no pride? Is it really so hard to rinse?
That's bad, but worse are the people who dump stuff they should KNOW is not accepted. The center is constantly handing out lists of what is and is not accepted, and which bins get what, and I swear nobody (except a few like me) reads or pays attention to them.
One quick glance at the top layer of any of the three sorting bins finds what looks like a 30% mix of not-acceptable or not-this-bin items. Manila envelopes with bubble-wrap lining are not accepted at all, and yet the newspaper-only bin was speckled with them today, and the distribution, all through the bin, suggests that it wasn't only one person who screwed up.
They accept ONLY #1 and #2 clearly-marked plastic, so could someone explain to me why the plastic/glass/metal bin is full of plastic bags?
I get so angry at idiots.
Garbage collection around here is very expensive, and I think a lot of people see the recycle center as free garbage disposal. What they don't seem to understand is that the more trash they throw in there, the more they put in the wrong bin, the more expensive it is to sort, and eventually it will tip to too costly, and will be no more. THEN what will they do with it? Fully 2/3 of my waste every month is recyclable. I don't want to pay to have it hauled away and dumped in a landfill. But these idiots will make that happen.
-----------------------------------
Grrr. I was already in that bad mood when I read a comment in the local Mensa Yahoo group, regarding the lack of a local directory, that REALLY jerked my chain. I snapped back. A certain person seems to think he has all the answers and conveniently ignores what he doesn't like, and everyone else ignores his "I'm the source of all wisdom" attitude (except in conversation when he's not around) because he's also one of the most active and social people, which IS appreciated, and they don't want to lose him. What they don't realize is that since no one wants to go head-to-head with him and lets him have his way, NOBODY ELSE WANTS TO DO ANYTHING! They don't want to have to deal with him. He's the chief cause of the apathy in the group, and that's not just my opinion.
I didn't want to touch off the powder keg but I may have. He went a little too far this time, and this time he stepped on MY toes. He's ON the Board, but he often seems to think he IS the Board.
Oh, well. It needed saying. I'll crawl back into my apathetic but very comfortable shell now.
Grrrr.
.
My internet connection is now cellular (wireless) broadband. When I connect, it casts around to find a "path". I can see where I'm connected through, on SiteMeter.com. I am amused that sometimes I'm "in" Colorado, or Indiana, or Pennsylvania. Today I was surprised to find that I'm connected through the District of Columbia, specifically the Washington Navy Yard. Wow. That surprises me.
-------------------------------
I took a load of stuff to the recycle center today. There are usually two paid workers there, and maybe one or two volunteers. It was very hot today, so they were all hiding out in the shed, in front of a fan.
Man, if I volunteered there, within hours I'd be thoroughly disgusted with people in general. It would be very bad for me.
I can't believe people dump cans and bottles in the bin without so much as rinsing them out. How can they do that? The smell? The way dirty cans attract wasps? Have they no pride? Is it really so hard to rinse?
That's bad, but worse are the people who dump stuff they should KNOW is not accepted. The center is constantly handing out lists of what is and is not accepted, and which bins get what, and I swear nobody (except a few like me) reads or pays attention to them.
One quick glance at the top layer of any of the three sorting bins finds what looks like a 30% mix of not-acceptable or not-this-bin items. Manila envelopes with bubble-wrap lining are not accepted at all, and yet the newspaper-only bin was speckled with them today, and the distribution, all through the bin, suggests that it wasn't only one person who screwed up.
They accept ONLY #1 and #2 clearly-marked plastic, so could someone explain to me why the plastic/glass/metal bin is full of plastic bags?
I get so angry at idiots.
Garbage collection around here is very expensive, and I think a lot of people see the recycle center as free garbage disposal. What they don't seem to understand is that the more trash they throw in there, the more they put in the wrong bin, the more expensive it is to sort, and eventually it will tip to too costly, and will be no more. THEN what will they do with it? Fully 2/3 of my waste every month is recyclable. I don't want to pay to have it hauled away and dumped in a landfill. But these idiots will make that happen.
-----------------------------------
Grrr. I was already in that bad mood when I read a comment in the local Mensa Yahoo group, regarding the lack of a local directory, that REALLY jerked my chain. I snapped back. A certain person seems to think he has all the answers and conveniently ignores what he doesn't like, and everyone else ignores his "I'm the source of all wisdom" attitude (except in conversation when he's not around) because he's also one of the most active and social people, which IS appreciated, and they don't want to lose him. What they don't realize is that since no one wants to go head-to-head with him and lets him have his way, NOBODY ELSE WANTS TO DO ANYTHING! They don't want to have to deal with him. He's the chief cause of the apathy in the group, and that's not just my opinion.
I didn't want to touch off the powder keg but I may have. He went a little too far this time, and this time he stepped on MY toes. He's ON the Board, but he often seems to think he IS the Board.
Oh, well. It needed saying. I'll crawl back into my apathetic but very comfortable shell now.
Grrrr.
.
Friday, August 03, 2007
1410 Check Engine
Friday, August 3, 2007
So, I started the van this afternoon, and the check engine light did not go on. I headed across the river to get it inspected, and an oil change, and transmission fluid flushed/changed.
Right up until the end of the safety inspection, the CE light was not on, but then the guy called me in, and pow, there it was. On.
In NY (don't know what it's like elsewhere), they hook the vehicle up to a machine that gathers who knows what information, which is sent directly from the machine to the DMV (for all I know it could be your destinations and speeds, photos of passengers and taped conversations, for the past year! Heck, this is NY. It could happen!), and if the check engine light is on for any reason, it's an automatic fail. He wanted to fail it right then. I did the gas cap bit, told him it might take a minute or two and to continue with the safety inspection and fluid changes, then look again.
Forty-five minutes later, my name was called, and the van had passed!
When I went out to drive it home, the CE light was off.
Then when I was almost home, I pressed the cruise control button and tried to set the speed, and it didn't take, and I thought "Uh oh", and the cruise control turned itself off, and the CE light went on.
Oh, well. It passed inspection. I've got some time to figure this one out. As for tomorrow's furniture moving, if it were just locally I'd do it, but the furniture is on Long Island, and I'm not sure I want to go that far while I don't know what will happen. Last year the screwed-up computer caused stalls in intersections.
.
So, I started the van this afternoon, and the check engine light did not go on. I headed across the river to get it inspected, and an oil change, and transmission fluid flushed/changed.
Right up until the end of the safety inspection, the CE light was not on, but then the guy called me in, and pow, there it was. On.
In NY (don't know what it's like elsewhere), they hook the vehicle up to a machine that gathers who knows what information, which is sent directly from the machine to the DMV (for all I know it could be your destinations and speeds, photos of passengers and taped conversations, for the past year! Heck, this is NY. It could happen!), and if the check engine light is on for any reason, it's an automatic fail. He wanted to fail it right then. I did the gas cap bit, told him it might take a minute or two and to continue with the safety inspection and fluid changes, then look again.
Forty-five minutes later, my name was called, and the van had passed!
When I went out to drive it home, the CE light was off.
Then when I was almost home, I pressed the cruise control button and tried to set the speed, and it didn't take, and I thought "Uh oh", and the cruise control turned itself off, and the CE light went on.
Oh, well. It passed inspection. I've got some time to figure this one out. As for tomorrow's furniture moving, if it were just locally I'd do it, but the furniture is on Long Island, and I'm not sure I want to go that far while I don't know what will happen. Last year the screwed-up computer caused stalls in intersections.
.
1409 Kitty Breakthrough!
Friday, August 3, 2007
Jasper has been behind the washing machine since Monday. I put soft food in a bowl at the end of the washer, and when I'm not around he'd eat the food, drink some water, piddle on the floor on the other side of the laundry room (ignoring the litter box - I'm still not sure where the poopy is - no odors evident). There was some dry food on a plate in the middle of the room, too, but he'd been ignoring it. All I've actually seen of him since Sunday night has been big eyes in the dust and dark behind the washer.
This morning, it was evident he had found the dry food. And he had piddled on the newspaper I'd put down in what appeared to be his chosen urinal area.
Since he approved of the dry food, this morning I reached (a long stretch for me) between the utility sink and the washer to put some dry food in the bowl, and was surprised when a little head pushed itself under my hand. He wanted a head and neck scratching while he ate.
He wouldn't come completely out from the safe space, but ... this may yet work out. I didn't see fear in his eyes this morning. I saw recognition. So maybe it will take a few days of my lying on the floor stretching to reach between the sink and washer to scratch a furry neck.
I can do that.
.
Jasper has been behind the washing machine since Monday. I put soft food in a bowl at the end of the washer, and when I'm not around he'd eat the food, drink some water, piddle on the floor on the other side of the laundry room (ignoring the litter box - I'm still not sure where the poopy is - no odors evident). There was some dry food on a plate in the middle of the room, too, but he'd been ignoring it. All I've actually seen of him since Sunday night has been big eyes in the dust and dark behind the washer.
This morning, it was evident he had found the dry food. And he had piddled on the newspaper I'd put down in what appeared to be his chosen urinal area.
Since he approved of the dry food, this morning I reached (a long stretch for me) between the utility sink and the washer to put some dry food in the bowl, and was surprised when a little head pushed itself under my hand. He wanted a head and neck scratching while he ate.
He wouldn't come completely out from the safe space, but ... this may yet work out. I didn't see fear in his eyes this morning. I saw recognition. So maybe it will take a few days of my lying on the floor stretching to reach between the sink and washer to scratch a furry neck.
I can do that.
.
1408 Dear Diary - Four Days
Thursday August 2 into Friday August 3, 2007
I have something of a much higher priority to do tonight before I go to bed, therefore I'm doing this first. The Man laughs at me because there are things that make perfect sense to me, but would make no sense to anyone else. I guess this is one of them. If I do a lower priority thing first, then I can be sure BOTH will get done before I conk out.
I haven't kept track of the past four days, and if I don't soon, it'll be all mixed up in my head.
Ok. Monday I caught up on everything I'd let slide since Wednesday.
Tuesday I wrote a very long and difficult email to FW on a topic we had discussed the day before, and then I went to EEE (Mensa dinner) at the Indian restaurant in the village. There was Angie, Jeff, John, Roman, and me. Jeff had ridden his bike in from Bard, and it got dark, and his bike had no lights, and it didn't fit in a car trunk, so I followed him all the way back to Bard at between 7 and 17 mph with my flashers on. I guess it was ok, because a police car passed us without a blink.
Wednesday I REALLY overslept. Crazy. I had wanted to go to the museum, I need to process the checks that came in during July, but I didn't wake up until 2 pm. After that, I haven't the faintest idea what I did. I do recall getting several phone calls, several hours on the phone with several people. Social stuff. You'd never guess I hate talking on the phone.
Thursday I got up at a decent hour and did some financial research, some cleaning up in the laundry room, flirting with the new kitty, bits of things. Left the house a little after 3 pm to meet Roman for dinner. We went to see Richard III at Boscobel. Last minute tickets don't get you the best seats, but they were still pretty good. This time the costumes were vaguely Egyptian, and we had great difficulty understanding the family relationships. The guy who played Richard was very good, although his very strong resemblance to my Hairless Hunk was rather distracting.
Sundaes after, in a restaurant/ice cream parlor that played wonderful 50s, 60s, and 70s music, and I didn't want to leave. I kept pumping quarters into the "nickelodeon". (Remember when you got one song for a nickel, six for a quarter? Now it's three for a dollar!) Got home a little after 1 am.
Roman and I talked about our relationship a bit. We are very good friends right now, and I don't want to screw that up by getting too involved. He's having a little trouble with that. I told him I'd like to find him a good woman, but on the other hand, I don't want to share him. We'll figure it out, I guess. I hope.
Tomorrow I have to figure out what to do with the minivan. On Tuesday I had committed to help a friend move some furniture on Saturday. I screwed up. I forgot that last week when I tried started it, the "check engine" light went on. It won't pass inspection if the CE light is on, and it was due for inspection by the end of July. Man, I blew it. From a couple of directions.
So I'll have to check it tomorrow morning. I hope tightening the gas cap will have been enough. If so, I'll get it inspected tomorrow. If not, I don't know what I'll do.
Now on to more the more important task, so I can eventually get some sleep.
I have something of a much higher priority to do tonight before I go to bed, therefore I'm doing this first. The Man laughs at me because there are things that make perfect sense to me, but would make no sense to anyone else. I guess this is one of them. If I do a lower priority thing first, then I can be sure BOTH will get done before I conk out.
I haven't kept track of the past four days, and if I don't soon, it'll be all mixed up in my head.
Ok. Monday I caught up on everything I'd let slide since Wednesday.
Tuesday I wrote a very long and difficult email to FW on a topic we had discussed the day before, and then I went to EEE (Mensa dinner) at the Indian restaurant in the village. There was Angie, Jeff, John, Roman, and me. Jeff had ridden his bike in from Bard, and it got dark, and his bike had no lights, and it didn't fit in a car trunk, so I followed him all the way back to Bard at between 7 and 17 mph with my flashers on. I guess it was ok, because a police car passed us without a blink.
Wednesday I REALLY overslept. Crazy. I had wanted to go to the museum, I need to process the checks that came in during July, but I didn't wake up until 2 pm. After that, I haven't the faintest idea what I did. I do recall getting several phone calls, several hours on the phone with several people. Social stuff. You'd never guess I hate talking on the phone.
Thursday I got up at a decent hour and did some financial research, some cleaning up in the laundry room, flirting with the new kitty, bits of things. Left the house a little after 3 pm to meet Roman for dinner. We went to see Richard III at Boscobel. Last minute tickets don't get you the best seats, but they were still pretty good. This time the costumes were vaguely Egyptian, and we had great difficulty understanding the family relationships. The guy who played Richard was very good, although his very strong resemblance to my Hairless Hunk was rather distracting.
Sundaes after, in a restaurant/ice cream parlor that played wonderful 50s, 60s, and 70s music, and I didn't want to leave. I kept pumping quarters into the "nickelodeon". (Remember when you got one song for a nickel, six for a quarter? Now it's three for a dollar!) Got home a little after 1 am.
Roman and I talked about our relationship a bit. We are very good friends right now, and I don't want to screw that up by getting too involved. He's having a little trouble with that. I told him I'd like to find him a good woman, but on the other hand, I don't want to share him. We'll figure it out, I guess. I hope.
Tomorrow I have to figure out what to do with the minivan. On Tuesday I had committed to help a friend move some furniture on Saturday. I screwed up. I forgot that last week when I tried started it, the "check engine" light went on. It won't pass inspection if the CE light is on, and it was due for inspection by the end of July. Man, I blew it. From a couple of directions.
So I'll have to check it tomorrow morning. I hope tightening the gas cap will have been enough. If so, I'll get it inspected tomorrow. If not, I don't know what I'll do.
Now on to more the more important task, so I can eventually get some sleep.
Wednesday, August 01, 2007
1407 Catching Honey
Wednesday, August 1, 2007
Something funny that happened last weekend: Son-in-law Hercules's mother, K-Mom (I'm S-Mom), was talking about an abandoned cat named Honey that she'd been trying to catch, and Hercules said, "Did you try flies? I hear you can catch a lot of honey with flies."
I don't think he realized what he'd said until he thought about it.
So Thursday night I was telling The Man about it, and I said, "And then Hercules said, did you try...", and The Man interrupted with "Flies! They say you can catch a lot of honey with flies."
I cracked up. I swear those two have the same brain! The two of them are always finishing each other's thoughts, even the weird ones. They think the same way.
I'm not sure which is better, or worse - that a 32-yo has the brain of a 47-yo, or vice versa.
.
Something funny that happened last weekend: Son-in-law Hercules's mother, K-Mom (I'm S-Mom), was talking about an abandoned cat named Honey that she'd been trying to catch, and Hercules said, "Did you try flies? I hear you can catch a lot of honey with flies."
I don't think he realized what he'd said until he thought about it.
So Thursday night I was telling The Man about it, and I said, "And then Hercules said, did you try...", and The Man interrupted with "Flies! They say you can catch a lot of honey with flies."
I cracked up. I swear those two have the same brain! The two of them are always finishing each other's thoughts, even the weird ones. They think the same way.
I'm not sure which is better, or worse - that a 32-yo has the brain of a 47-yo, or vice versa.
.
1406 Dear Diary - Weekend in NJ, Part 2
Wednesday, August 1, 2007
I haven't updated in DAYS! Busy. The previous post left off Saturday afternoon. After writing that post, I went for a walk on the roads around the hotel. I returned across a lawn behind the hotel, and met Jasper. Jasper changed all my plans for the next few days.
Jasper is an American shorthair gray tabby, white trim, round face with huge eyes and enormous curved and tufted lynx ears, spots on his back and stripes on his legs, probably about five months old. The housekeepers and reception desk women say he turned up at the hotel as a kitten just before the flooding (was that last April?), and they were amazed he made it through. He's a very small cat with tiny feet, but he's solid muscle. He begs food from the hotel guests and staff by being cute.
I sat on a bench to watch him. Any time anyone walked out the door or through the parking lot, especially men, Jasper'd run over with a tiny high-pitched "Meee, meeee", and walk next to them calling, roll on the ground in front of them, waving his paws in the air, duck down behind the curb with only his ears showing and one paw up patting the sidewalk, and so on. I noticed that about one in six men (but, oddly, not the women) would return in a few minutes with a piece of meat or cheese.
He skittered away from hands, allowed no one to touch him.
This doorway seemed to be the "break" gathering place, and as staff came out to sit for a while, they all expressed a wish that someone would adopt him, but no one had been able to catch him. A shelter wouldn't take him unless someone could catch him. Traps had been tried, but he was too suspicious.
I decided to catch him.
I went to a Target and bought a litter pan and some litter, some food in foil packets, a food dish and a water dispenser, and a carrier (animals were allowed in the hotel, so this was in case I caught him and would have him overnight. The receptionist on duty said she wouldn't charge me the surcharge if I could do it). By 8 pm he was eating next to my leg. By 9 pm I was petting him while he ate. By 10 pm I was able to run both hands all over his body, even without the food there. Around 11 pm I tried to pick him up and he freaked. At midnight one of the receptionists came out, and he walked over to her and allowed her to pet him. She was amazed. He'd never gotten that close before.
Then I picked him up and tried to put him into the carrier. I had the carrier standing up on end, and was going to lower him in tail first, but he seemed to know what the carrier was, and all four legs shot out to the sides, and I couldn't fit him in. It took another hour to regain his trust.
A little after 2 am he suddenly took off. I was checking out the next morning, so I figured I'd try again then.
The next morning, Sunday, I sat out there for a few hours, but he never showed. The staff women said he was rarely around in the morning. So I checked out and left with an empty carrier, and went to Daughter's.
She and Hercules have a little experience capturing feral cats, and Hercules said that we should get a dark laundry bag. The opening is larger than the carrier, and when the cat is in the bottom of the bag, being in a dark enclosed space seems to calm them. Then you can stuff the bag into the carrier, and the cat will get out of the bag on his own.
Sounded good to me.
So that evening, the three of us went back to the hotel, with leather gloves, a towel, and a black nylon laundry bag. We waited a very long time, and the kitty didn't show up. Daughter and Hercules gave up and decided to go home, and as I was hugging them goodbye, one of the housekeepers drove up, asked if I was looking for the cat, and said he was around the corner on the other side of the building. Sure enough, he was flirting with some guy sitting on the curb talking on a cell phone. I called, and he came. I gave him some food, and while he was eating, I got a good grip on his scruff.
That's an odd thing about cats. Even one who will not allow you to get a confining grip on his body, WILL allow you to get a good handful of scruff. Once past kittenhood, you should never actually pick a cat up by the scruff - it's very painful once their skin hardens and they put on weight - but grasping the scruff seems to actually be calming and comforting.
Once I could hold him in place by the scruff, Hercules picked him up with the gloves, and popped him into the bag held open by Daughter.
It was NOT calming!
Hercules went into mild shock. He was standing there holding a bag full of hurricane-whirled knives! It was pretty unbelievable. Within seconds, there were already rents appearing in the bag, in like twenty different spots. Daughter yelled "Put him on the grass! Put him on the grass1'. We laid the bag down, and I threw the towel over the bag, and crouched over it, holding Jasper still. We slid cat, bag, and towel into the carrier, pulled the towel out, and within seconds the cat was out of the bag. He attacked the door and tried to bite his way out, but then calmed down very quickly.
The housekeeper lady had gotten on the phone and spread the word, so by the time I left, half a dozen of the staff had come down to thank me and wish us luck.
He was very quiet in the car for the 2.5 hour drive home, even slept some.
My laundry room has a washer, dryer, and utility sink along one wall, next to the door to the garage, a half bath on the opposite wall, and shelves on the end wall. I decided that would be the best place to confine him.
When I let him out of the carrier, he wandered around a bit, spotted the shelves, and climbed straight up them as if they were stairs. He spent the night behind some boxes on the top shelf. By Monday morning he had moved to behind the washing machine, and except to eat some food and drink some water, and piddle in the middle of the floor (ignoring the litter box), most likely during the quiet of the night, he hasn't come out of there. I can see him if I lean between the sink and the washer, and he looks up at me with those big eyes, but there's no reaction to all my soft words. It's now Wednesday evening. I'm wondering if he will ever trust me enough to come out. I don't know where he's pooping, or even if he is. There's no odor.
Sigh.
The name "Jasper", by the way, I swear came from him. Naturally, when I was thinking I'd adopt him, I was thinking of names, even though I am a firm believer that a cat names him- or herself, if you wait a bit. But not usually in this fashion or this insistently. Several names ran through my mind. "Jasper" was NOT one of my ideas. "Jasper" jumped loudly into my mind from outside and wouldn't leave. Every time I considered another name, "Jasper" shouted it down. I don't even LIKE the name Jasper. If kitty insists that it's Jasper, that will go on his vet records, but I'll call him "Jazz".
And that was my weekend in NJ.
.
I haven't updated in DAYS! Busy. The previous post left off Saturday afternoon. After writing that post, I went for a walk on the roads around the hotel. I returned across a lawn behind the hotel, and met Jasper. Jasper changed all my plans for the next few days.
Jasper is an American shorthair gray tabby, white trim, round face with huge eyes and enormous curved and tufted lynx ears, spots on his back and stripes on his legs, probably about five months old. The housekeepers and reception desk women say he turned up at the hotel as a kitten just before the flooding (was that last April?), and they were amazed he made it through. He's a very small cat with tiny feet, but he's solid muscle. He begs food from the hotel guests and staff by being cute.
I sat on a bench to watch him. Any time anyone walked out the door or through the parking lot, especially men, Jasper'd run over with a tiny high-pitched "Meee, meeee", and walk next to them calling, roll on the ground in front of them, waving his paws in the air, duck down behind the curb with only his ears showing and one paw up patting the sidewalk, and so on. I noticed that about one in six men (but, oddly, not the women) would return in a few minutes with a piece of meat or cheese.
He skittered away from hands, allowed no one to touch him.
This doorway seemed to be the "break" gathering place, and as staff came out to sit for a while, they all expressed a wish that someone would adopt him, but no one had been able to catch him. A shelter wouldn't take him unless someone could catch him. Traps had been tried, but he was too suspicious.
I decided to catch him.
I went to a Target and bought a litter pan and some litter, some food in foil packets, a food dish and a water dispenser, and a carrier (animals were allowed in the hotel, so this was in case I caught him and would have him overnight. The receptionist on duty said she wouldn't charge me the surcharge if I could do it). By 8 pm he was eating next to my leg. By 9 pm I was petting him while he ate. By 10 pm I was able to run both hands all over his body, even without the food there. Around 11 pm I tried to pick him up and he freaked. At midnight one of the receptionists came out, and he walked over to her and allowed her to pet him. She was amazed. He'd never gotten that close before.
Then I picked him up and tried to put him into the carrier. I had the carrier standing up on end, and was going to lower him in tail first, but he seemed to know what the carrier was, and all four legs shot out to the sides, and I couldn't fit him in. It took another hour to regain his trust.
A little after 2 am he suddenly took off. I was checking out the next morning, so I figured I'd try again then.
The next morning, Sunday, I sat out there for a few hours, but he never showed. The staff women said he was rarely around in the morning. So I checked out and left with an empty carrier, and went to Daughter's.
She and Hercules have a little experience capturing feral cats, and Hercules said that we should get a dark laundry bag. The opening is larger than the carrier, and when the cat is in the bottom of the bag, being in a dark enclosed space seems to calm them. Then you can stuff the bag into the carrier, and the cat will get out of the bag on his own.
Sounded good to me.
So that evening, the three of us went back to the hotel, with leather gloves, a towel, and a black nylon laundry bag. We waited a very long time, and the kitty didn't show up. Daughter and Hercules gave up and decided to go home, and as I was hugging them goodbye, one of the housekeepers drove up, asked if I was looking for the cat, and said he was around the corner on the other side of the building. Sure enough, he was flirting with some guy sitting on the curb talking on a cell phone. I called, and he came. I gave him some food, and while he was eating, I got a good grip on his scruff.
That's an odd thing about cats. Even one who will not allow you to get a confining grip on his body, WILL allow you to get a good handful of scruff. Once past kittenhood, you should never actually pick a cat up by the scruff - it's very painful once their skin hardens and they put on weight - but grasping the scruff seems to actually be calming and comforting.
Once I could hold him in place by the scruff, Hercules picked him up with the gloves, and popped him into the bag held open by Daughter.
It was NOT calming!
Hercules went into mild shock. He was standing there holding a bag full of hurricane-whirled knives! It was pretty unbelievable. Within seconds, there were already rents appearing in the bag, in like twenty different spots. Daughter yelled "Put him on the grass! Put him on the grass1'. We laid the bag down, and I threw the towel over the bag, and crouched over it, holding Jasper still. We slid cat, bag, and towel into the carrier, pulled the towel out, and within seconds the cat was out of the bag. He attacked the door and tried to bite his way out, but then calmed down very quickly.
The housekeeper lady had gotten on the phone and spread the word, so by the time I left, half a dozen of the staff had come down to thank me and wish us luck.
He was very quiet in the car for the 2.5 hour drive home, even slept some.
My laundry room has a washer, dryer, and utility sink along one wall, next to the door to the garage, a half bath on the opposite wall, and shelves on the end wall. I decided that would be the best place to confine him.
When I let him out of the carrier, he wandered around a bit, spotted the shelves, and climbed straight up them as if they were stairs. He spent the night behind some boxes on the top shelf. By Monday morning he had moved to behind the washing machine, and except to eat some food and drink some water, and piddle in the middle of the floor (ignoring the litter box), most likely during the quiet of the night, he hasn't come out of there. I can see him if I lean between the sink and the washer, and he looks up at me with those big eyes, but there's no reaction to all my soft words. It's now Wednesday evening. I'm wondering if he will ever trust me enough to come out. I don't know where he's pooping, or even if he is. There's no odor.
Sigh.
The name "Jasper", by the way, I swear came from him. Naturally, when I was thinking I'd adopt him, I was thinking of names, even though I am a firm believer that a cat names him- or herself, if you wait a bit. But not usually in this fashion or this insistently. Several names ran through my mind. "Jasper" was NOT one of my ideas. "Jasper" jumped loudly into my mind from outside and wouldn't leave. Every time I considered another name, "Jasper" shouted it down. I don't even LIKE the name Jasper. If kitty insists that it's Jasper, that will go on his vet records, but I'll call him "Jazz".
And that was my weekend in NJ.
.
Saturday, July 28, 2007
1405 Dear Diary - Weekend in NJ Part 1
Saturday, July 28, 2007
So, Thursday I drove down, checked into hotel, went over to Daughter's, had dinner there, other Mother-in-law (K-Mom (I'm S-Mom)) arrived, chatter, natter, back to hotel, The Man arrived, talk, etc.
Friday, bye-bye to The Man, he went to work, Daughter was working until 2 pm, back to Daughter's in afternoon, play with kittens (Titus is batty. He's NEVER still!), chatter, natter.
Now, I thought we were going to the Monmouth County Fair Friday evening. A friend of Daughter was clogging that evening, and Daughter very much wanted to see her. I thought Hercules knew Daughter wanted to go to the fair. But sometime in the late afternoon, Hercules and his mother decided they wanted to see the Simpsons movie, and, so, we went to the movie. Daughter was very tired, having got little sleep during the week, and I was tired, having got little sleep the night before, and Daughter and I mostly slept through the movie. The fact that it was freezing in the theater contributed.
Movie review - if you're not a rabid Simpsons fan, forget it.
The theater was near where Daughter and Hercules are buying a house (a different house - the "ugly house" got to be too much of a hassle, this one is progressing much more quickly), so we went to look at the house. Couldn't go inside, the sellers still live there, but we walked around the neighborhood, which is much nicer than by the ugly house. It's about a block from Raritan Bay(?), so we then walked along the seawall along the bay, too. Very nice. (Quite a hike on rock and broken concrete in high heeled sandals, by the way.)
Then dinner. The waiter forgot to bring half our food (forgot Hercules' french fries, K-Mom's coffee, Daughter's salad, and my soup, and I'm not exaggerating!), and we had to wrestle him to the ground to get the check, and never did catch him to pay the tab - I had to go into the bar and threaten mayhem if someone didn't take my money, NOW!
So we never made it to the fair.
Daughter had requested that I come this weekend. So here I am. Surprise - they're registered in a race this morning, and the three of them are going to an upstate conference (on a topic I don't care to go to) this afternoon and evening, staying over in a hotel there tonight. I guess Daughter thought I could amuse myself with The Man today and tonight. Of course, nobody told me ahead of time, so nobody told him, and he's someone you have to schedule way ahead of time, so here I sit. I brought some books and movie DVDs. Friday morning The Man said I really have to see Sicko, and I mentioned it to Hercules, and he, um, had a copy, which he copied for me, so that's my plans for the evening.
Tomorrow I'll check out, visit the kids a bit more, and then head home.
And I'm drinking The Man's beer. Strange. I don't drink beer.
.
So, Thursday I drove down, checked into hotel, went over to Daughter's, had dinner there, other Mother-in-law (K-Mom (I'm S-Mom)) arrived, chatter, natter, back to hotel, The Man arrived, talk, etc.
Friday, bye-bye to The Man, he went to work, Daughter was working until 2 pm, back to Daughter's in afternoon, play with kittens (Titus is batty. He's NEVER still!), chatter, natter.
Now, I thought we were going to the Monmouth County Fair Friday evening. A friend of Daughter was clogging that evening, and Daughter very much wanted to see her. I thought Hercules knew Daughter wanted to go to the fair. But sometime in the late afternoon, Hercules and his mother decided they wanted to see the Simpsons movie, and, so, we went to the movie. Daughter was very tired, having got little sleep during the week, and I was tired, having got little sleep the night before, and Daughter and I mostly slept through the movie. The fact that it was freezing in the theater contributed.
Movie review - if you're not a rabid Simpsons fan, forget it.
The theater was near where Daughter and Hercules are buying a house (a different house - the "ugly house" got to be too much of a hassle, this one is progressing much more quickly), so we went to look at the house. Couldn't go inside, the sellers still live there, but we walked around the neighborhood, which is much nicer than by the ugly house. It's about a block from Raritan Bay(?), so we then walked along the seawall along the bay, too. Very nice. (Quite a hike on rock and broken concrete in high heeled sandals, by the way.)
Then dinner. The waiter forgot to bring half our food (forgot Hercules' french fries, K-Mom's coffee, Daughter's salad, and my soup, and I'm not exaggerating!), and we had to wrestle him to the ground to get the check, and never did catch him to pay the tab - I had to go into the bar and threaten mayhem if someone didn't take my money, NOW!
So we never made it to the fair.
Daughter had requested that I come this weekend. So here I am. Surprise - they're registered in a race this morning, and the three of them are going to an upstate conference (on a topic I don't care to go to) this afternoon and evening, staying over in a hotel there tonight. I guess Daughter thought I could amuse myself with The Man today and tonight. Of course, nobody told me ahead of time, so nobody told him, and he's someone you have to schedule way ahead of time, so here I sit. I brought some books and movie DVDs. Friday morning The Man said I really have to see Sicko, and I mentioned it to Hercules, and he, um, had a copy, which he copied for me, so that's my plans for the evening.
Tomorrow I'll check out, visit the kids a bit more, and then head home.
And I'm drinking The Man's beer. Strange. I don't drink beer.
.
1404 Not Goodbye
Saturday, July 28, 2007
[Later - edited out parts which do not belong to me.]
The Man reserved a suite for us in a Residence Inn near Daughter's home. Livingroom, bedroom, kitchen, bath. We had an opportunity for lots of talk on Thursday and Friday, and I'm feeling a bit better about him. After my experience with Roman I am extremely "gun-shy" about being played, and I had been feeling neglected, which leads to feeling used, and I was fully prepared to tell him I didn't want to see him any more.
It's not like he convinced me otherwise. I haven't been sold a bill of goods. He explained what his priorities have been lately, and why, and I completely understand. He also said that those priorities were unlikely to change in the near future, and I would have to make my own decision as to whether I could accept that or not, but he couldn't do much about it.
Now that I understand a little bit about what's been going on with him, I can accept it. (I think he could at least do a better job of letting me know what's going on, so I'm not left to draw my own conclusions, but he's very reluctant to dump complaints and problems on others.) That doesn't mean everything is wonderful, but it's at least sort of ok. I guess. I'm willing to give it a little more time and patience. He doesn't need me chewing on his backside, too.
What's bugging me now is that I could alleviate at least one of his problems, and he probably knows that. I respect that he hasn't asked. If he did, it would probably scare me off. We're not "there" yet. It bothers me a little that I'm reluctant to volunteer, too. I don't know him well enough to know whether he'd be grateful or offended.
And I don't know which I'd prefer.
.
[Later - edited out parts which do not belong to me.]
The Man reserved a suite for us in a Residence Inn near Daughter's home. Livingroom, bedroom, kitchen, bath. We had an opportunity for lots of talk on Thursday and Friday, and I'm feeling a bit better about him. After my experience with Roman I am extremely "gun-shy" about being played, and I had been feeling neglected, which leads to feeling used, and I was fully prepared to tell him I didn't want to see him any more.
It's not like he convinced me otherwise. I haven't been sold a bill of goods. He explained what his priorities have been lately, and why, and I completely understand. He also said that those priorities were unlikely to change in the near future, and I would have to make my own decision as to whether I could accept that or not, but he couldn't do much about it.
Now that I understand a little bit about what's been going on with him, I can accept it. (I think he could at least do a better job of letting me know what's going on, so I'm not left to draw my own conclusions, but he's very reluctant to dump complaints and problems on others.) That doesn't mean everything is wonderful, but it's at least sort of ok. I guess. I'm willing to give it a little more time and patience. He doesn't need me chewing on his backside, too.
What's bugging me now is that I could alleviate at least one of his problems, and he probably knows that. I respect that he hasn't asked. If he did, it would probably scare me off. We're not "there" yet. It bothers me a little that I'm reluctant to volunteer, too. I don't know him well enough to know whether he'd be grateful or offended.
And I don't know which I'd prefer.
.
Wednesday, July 25, 2007
1403 'Nother Duh
There was a story on TV news tonight about a town's testing of their emergency warning sirens.
It reminded me of The Company's tests: "Blaaaaap! This is a test of the emergency announcement system. If you cannot hear this message, call extension xxxx."
Duh?
A bunch of us decided to call every half hour on a day they didn't do the test, and tell them we didn't hear the message. It took them a few rounds to "get it".
.
It reminded me of The Company's tests: "Blaaaaap! This is a test of the emergency announcement system. If you cannot hear this message, call extension xxxx."
Duh?
A bunch of us decided to call every half hour on a day they didn't do the test, and tell them we didn't hear the message. It took them a few rounds to "get it".
.
1402 Caca-phony
Wednesday, July 25, 2007
I'm working through the to do list. Paid bills, set the recorder, cleaned the litter box, wrapped and mailed a birthday present, bought groceries (mostly cat food), packed a suitcase (except for the clothes), watered all the plants, updated the calendar, copied some CDs, printed off some lists. I still have to do laundry, wash dishes, and clean out the car.
------------------------------------
I like my new TVs, but there's a problem.
I often have four on at the same time, in the kitchen (digital), livingroom (analog), bedroom (analog), and den (digital), so that as I move around the house I can listen or glance if anything interesting is on and not miss much.
The problem is that the digital broadcast is four seconds behind the analog.
Cacophony.
Not pleasant.
.
I'm working through the to do list. Paid bills, set the recorder, cleaned the litter box, wrapped and mailed a birthday present, bought groceries (mostly cat food), packed a suitcase (except for the clothes), watered all the plants, updated the calendar, copied some CDs, printed off some lists. I still have to do laundry, wash dishes, and clean out the car.
------------------------------------
I like my new TVs, but there's a problem.
I often have four on at the same time, in the kitchen (digital), livingroom (analog), bedroom (analog), and den (digital), so that as I move around the house I can listen or glance if anything interesting is on and not miss much.
The problem is that the digital broadcast is four seconds behind the analog.
Cacophony.
Not pleasant.
.
1401 Warning
This rating was determined based on the presence of the following words:
- murder (5x)
- hell (4x)
- sex (3x)
- xxx (2x)
- steal (1x)
Harumph! I'm insulted!
I was hoping for at least an "X".
[Later: Good Grief! "Girl with a one-track mind" got a PG!!!!! She's cleaner than I am? This is very very wrong!]
Tuesday, July 24, 2007
1400 Priorities, Blah
Tuesday, July 24, 2007
I'm supposed to be doing laundry and paying bills so I can go to the museum tomorrow, and to New Jersey Thursday.
Instead, I've spent much of the evening writing emails. I wanted to peruse Steve-in-England's websites, and then fill him in on my past 20-plus years. Unfortunately, I think more than I write, and I write slowly. (If I wrote everything I thought, recalling the past twenty years, the email would be a novel.) And I couldn't spend all that time on him without also paying attention to more immediate friends.
I've been typing a lot today. I'm surprised my fingernails haven't worn down.
I think I'm going to have to go to the museum on Monday.
.
I'm supposed to be doing laundry and paying bills so I can go to the museum tomorrow, and to New Jersey Thursday.
Instead, I've spent much of the evening writing emails. I wanted to peruse Steve-in-England's websites, and then fill him in on my past 20-plus years. Unfortunately, I think more than I write, and I write slowly. (If I wrote everything I thought, recalling the past twenty years, the email would be a novel.) And I couldn't spend all that time on him without also paying attention to more immediate friends.
I've been typing a lot today. I'm surprised my fingernails haven't worn down.
I think I'm going to have to go to the museum on Monday.
.
1399 Shopping
Tuesday, July 24, 2007
My ears are not pierced, so I don't wear expensive earrings (I worry about them falling off, although in my entire life I have lost only one earring, and I wasn't even wearing it at the time it escaped), and it's getting harder and harder to find decent clip earrings. They don't exist in local stores, except for that one rack in the el-cheapo store.
When I decide I need a particular color or style, I shop on eBay for them, or the online antique and vintage stores.
Well, three weeks ago I bought a beautiful rose satin jacket, and I decided that the perfect thing to wear under it would be a black sequined tube top. I hit virtually every clothing store in two counties-worth of malls, and no one can even remember seeing one in ages.
I gave up.
About the same time I had bought a pink satin Chinese blouse, and decided I needed pink pearl earrings to wear with it. Found two pair (one stud, one dangle) on eBay - nice, real pearls, and inexpensive.
Did YOU make the connection?
I can't believe it took so long for my lightbulb to go on.
I found six black sequined tube tops on eBay, and six more in online vintage and dance supply stores.
Duh.
.
My ears are not pierced, so I don't wear expensive earrings (I worry about them falling off, although in my entire life I have lost only one earring, and I wasn't even wearing it at the time it escaped), and it's getting harder and harder to find decent clip earrings. They don't exist in local stores, except for that one rack in the el-cheapo store.
When I decide I need a particular color or style, I shop on eBay for them, or the online antique and vintage stores.
Well, three weeks ago I bought a beautiful rose satin jacket, and I decided that the perfect thing to wear under it would be a black sequined tube top. I hit virtually every clothing store in two counties-worth of malls, and no one can even remember seeing one in ages.
I gave up.
About the same time I had bought a pink satin Chinese blouse, and decided I needed pink pearl earrings to wear with it. Found two pair (one stud, one dangle) on eBay - nice, real pearls, and inexpensive.
Did YOU make the connection?
I can't believe it took so long for my lightbulb to go on.
I found six black sequined tube tops on eBay, and six more in online vintage and dance supply stores.
Duh.
.
Monday, July 23, 2007
1398 Blam!
Monday, July 23, 2007
This is a video of a bunch of guys shooting, and recoil blows them across the room. [Feeds may not show the video - click on the post title to see it.]
I was reminded of the time the guys on the rifle range at the base gave me a big one. It was so heavy and my arms were so short I couldn't hold it up. I kept tipping forward. So they had me lie on my stomach on the gravel to shoot it.
This was 1961. No sissy ear protection. I was 16 years old, and weighed about 103 lbs.
It threw me three feet back on my belly, skidding, skinned up my elbows, thighs, and hip bones really badly, dislocated my collarbone, and left my ears ringing for a week. I've been a tad hard of hearing in my right ear ever since.
But I hit the target ... and decided not to take up elephant hunting.
.
This is a video of a bunch of guys shooting, and recoil blows them across the room. [Feeds may not show the video - click on the post title to see it.]
I was reminded of the time the guys on the rifle range at the base gave me a big one. It was so heavy and my arms were so short I couldn't hold it up. I kept tipping forward. So they had me lie on my stomach on the gravel to shoot it.
This was 1961. No sissy ear protection. I was 16 years old, and weighed about 103 lbs.
It threw me three feet back on my belly, skidding, skinned up my elbows, thighs, and hip bones really badly, dislocated my collarbone, and left my ears ringing for a week. I've been a tad hard of hearing in my right ear ever since.
But I hit the target ... and decided not to take up elephant hunting.
.
1397 Phone Change
Monday, July 23, 2007
I got some business done this morning. I am so proud of myself! (Yeah, sarcasm.)
I have reservations for my visit to Daughter this coming weekend.
I called and reserved tickets for a show in August.
I called and cancelled the old ISP, now that I've had the highspeed link for about a month and it seems to be working.
I called and cancelled the second house line.
I called and changed the telephone service on the remaining main house line to one which provides unlimited free nationwide long distance, and includes call waiting, caller id, and transfer of calls to my cell phone - all for less than I'd been paying for regular service on the two lines.
Life is good.
------------------------------------
In the previous post I'd mentioned the lawyer I had dated briefly in February of 2006. He had given me his family homepage URL, so after thinking about it a bit ("Wonder what he's doing now?") I looked him up. No, it's NOT stalking! Not the same thing at all. He put himself out there so that people could look! He expects and welcomes it.
Well, I got a bit of a surprise.
I had told him back then that I was going to be very slow and cautious about getting into physical involvement, and I told him why. He didn't react well to that. I figured that he just wanted someone to sleep with RIGHT NOW!, and that's why. That turned me off. It turns out on his side it might have been more subtle, that he saw himself in my story and realized he wasn't ready, that he could be unfair to me. In fact, he said "I guess I'm not really ready", and I agreed. But I was thinking about the divorce hangover and the shingles.
His site is mostly photos, and there's a lot more there now than back when. Almost all of them are of him and a woman, on vacation, at events, having fun, snuggling. Photos from long before we met, and from long after.
It looks like he had and has a long-term relationship, and he must have started up with me during perhaps a small disagreement, "on a break".
Thank you, Mr. Lawyer, for not involving me in a triangle. Your lady is very pretty, you look happy (I notice the additional pounds), and I hope you'll remember next time you have a spat - don't go looking for someone else until you're sure it's over. With luck and communication, maybe it won't be over.
.
I got some business done this morning. I am so proud of myself! (Yeah, sarcasm.)
I have reservations for my visit to Daughter this coming weekend.
I called and reserved tickets for a show in August.
I called and cancelled the old ISP, now that I've had the highspeed link for about a month and it seems to be working.
I called and cancelled the second house line.
I called and changed the telephone service on the remaining main house line to one which provides unlimited free nationwide long distance, and includes call waiting, caller id, and transfer of calls to my cell phone - all for less than I'd been paying for regular service on the two lines.
Life is good.
------------------------------------
In the previous post I'd mentioned the lawyer I had dated briefly in February of 2006. He had given me his family homepage URL, so after thinking about it a bit ("Wonder what he's doing now?") I looked him up. No, it's NOT stalking! Not the same thing at all. He put himself out there so that people could look! He expects and welcomes it.
Well, I got a bit of a surprise.
I had told him back then that I was going to be very slow and cautious about getting into physical involvement, and I told him why. He didn't react well to that. I figured that he just wanted someone to sleep with RIGHT NOW!, and that's why. That turned me off. It turns out on his side it might have been more subtle, that he saw himself in my story and realized he wasn't ready, that he could be unfair to me. In fact, he said "I guess I'm not really ready", and I agreed. But I was thinking about the divorce hangover and the shingles.
His site is mostly photos, and there's a lot more there now than back when. Almost all of them are of him and a woman, on vacation, at events, having fun, snuggling. Photos from long before we met, and from long after.
It looks like he had and has a long-term relationship, and he must have started up with me during perhaps a small disagreement, "on a break".
Thank you, Mr. Lawyer, for not involving me in a triangle. Your lady is very pretty, you look happy (I notice the additional pounds), and I hope you'll remember next time you have a spat - don't go looking for someone else until you're sure it's over. With luck and communication, maybe it won't be over.
.
Sunday, July 22, 2007
1396 Sunday
Sunday, July 22, 2007
Today I touched up my roots - that "Jay Leno" patch right at the top of my forehead.
Then I headed for Phonecia (finally). The store has my name, number, and request stuck right above the cash register. They hadn't called because a new delivery hadn't come in. I got the card with the manager's name and the store number, so I'll have to call to see if they can special-order for me.
Returning home I decided to turn onto route 212 to Woodstock. I've been very surprised at how low the water level is everywhere, it seems like we've had a lot of rain, more rainy days than sunny, and I wanted to look at Cooper Lake. Rte. 212 from Mt. Tremper to Bearsville is a nice drive. It winds back and forth across the (almost empty) creek, and there are beautiful views of the mountains.
At one point near the hamlet of Willow, I saw cars parked all along the road, and I wondered what was going on. That reminded me that Barushka's Tribal Bonfire Hafla was today. I briefly considered going straight home to get the directions and then heading to the hafla, but it's way the heck down by New Paltz, and I was starting to feel guilty about how much I have to do and how little I've been accomplishing, and I just decided to stay home. I suspect I missed a good evening. It was good last year, when it poured, forcing everyone to cram into a large carport.
I took the circuit around the Cooper Lake. It was a bit low, but not as bad as others.
I went on through Woodstock. There was some kind of protest demonstration going on at the village green, and it look like they had a drum circle. I wanted to stop, but there were no parking spaces anywhere.
From there I took county 32 down to Kingston. I have often driven that road at night, in the winter, in snow, after a drink or two, and I was just fine with it. So it always amazes me when I drive it in daylight. Man, that's a scary road! It must have been laid out by a snake. I guess the difference is that at night I drive it a lot slower, so I don't notice the curves as much.
Instead of taking 9W to the bridge, on impulse I took a backroad that dumped me onto state 32, thence to the bridge and home.
------------------------------------
On the show "Survivor", the last three survivors "do the torch tour", visiting the torches of everyone who had been eliminated, and remembering them.
Today was almost like a torch tour for me.
Looking at the Esopus near Phonecia reminded me of a guy I knew in the early 80's, Steve. He was in Kingston on an international assignment with The Company. He returned to England and got married. When Daughter and I were in England in the late 80s we tried to get together (Daughter and I were on a narrowboat on the canals, moving around a lot), but there was a lot of phone tag and it didn't happen. I wondered what happened to him.
Then Cooper Lake reminded me of one of my online dates. He was a retired lawyer. We had a few dates, but I was still smarting from male betrayal, and he was suffering from a nasty divorce and a bad case of shingles, and neither of us was very good company. He had taken me to Cooper's Lake and said that he liked to sit on the bank and read. Today was one of the few nice days we've had lately, and when I passed the spot he liked, I thought of him. I wondered what had happened to him. It's more than a year later. I wouldn't mind meeting him again. I know where he lives, and where he has his coffee and paper on nice mornings, but ... no ....
Driving down county 32, I passed a building lot on the side of a mountain, next to the creek, that Jay loved. He had tried to buy it when he first arrived in NY from Texas, but the seller, although willing to sell, had all kinds of legal problems, and after six months of haggling, Jay gave up and bought this lot. But the other was always his first choice, and every time we passed it, he mourned it. Well, I know what happened to him.
I turned off 9w onto the back road on impulse, mainly because I hadn't been down that road in more than 30 years. The apartment where Raleigh lived is still there. I didn't think it would be. He was the first guy I seriously dated in this area after leaving Ex#1, way back in 1968. He was from North Carolina by way of Chicago. The romance ended when I discovered he had a wife and three kids still in Chicago. I wondered what happened to him.
Perhaps a half mile down the road was the apartment of a friend of Raleigh's, who made like he wanted to comfort me, but then attempted to rape me. I don't much care what happened to him.
I am the survivor. So many others are gone. All those burned-out torches.
------------------------------
I was curious, so when I got home, I Googled Steve. I found him! There're five or six folks with his name, but there was only one whose Google blurb mentioned England, and The Company. His homepage has him still in England, still in love with his lady, still working for The Company, and that's sure enough his picture. I sent off an email, and got an immediate reply! How cool is that? He was happy to hear from me. We've got some catching up to do.
So then, curiosity, I tried for Raleigh. He has a rather unusual but charming name, but even so, I didn't expect to find him. I didn't. I did find a young man with the same name, quite the athlete, the location fits, and the kid looks just like the original. Lighter complexion, but the same face. Interesting. I wonder....
One of the five cold torches has been relit, and it's a good one.
That's pretty durn neat.
.
1395 Van Setback
Sunday, July 22, 2007
Roman had said that he always makes copies of CDs to take in the car, never the originals. Until this laptop arrived, that was difficult for me, but last night I made some copies of favorites and it was easy.
A CD that The Man had made for me works on the PC, the house player, and in ONE of the vehicles, but won't play in the other (I forget which). So after I burned the CDs last night, I took them outside and tried them in the Aerio and the minivan. They worked.
However - I haven't driven the minivan in a little over a week, and it was fine then. Last night when I started it, the "check engine" light went on.
Not again. Please not again! Not after thousands of dollars, rental cars, and the forced purchase of the Aerio last year.
I opened and tightened the gas cap, and we'll see if that fixes it.
.
Roman had said that he always makes copies of CDs to take in the car, never the originals. Until this laptop arrived, that was difficult for me, but last night I made some copies of favorites and it was easy.
A CD that The Man had made for me works on the PC, the house player, and in ONE of the vehicles, but won't play in the other (I forget which). So after I burned the CDs last night, I took them outside and tried them in the Aerio and the minivan. They worked.
However - I haven't driven the minivan in a little over a week, and it was fine then. Last night when I started it, the "check engine" light went on.
Not again. Please not again! Not after thousands of dollars, rental cars, and the forced purchase of the Aerio last year.
I opened and tightened the gas cap, and we'll see if that fixes it.
.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)