Some Observations From Birthday Week

(Begun on February 25, 2016)

I know, Birthday Week isn't completely over yet, but today IS my birthday, and I have some observations to record.

Monday was most definitely a Monday, even on Birthday Week. I had to grocery shop, put away groceries, and go to my voice lesson, just like always.

Tuesday, things starting getting more fun.  I went out and bought two new pair of Brooks Ghost 8 running shoes, because the two pair I bought in July have very little tread left on the soles.  NOT safe for walking like I do anymore.  New shoes were a must, and I love these shoes.  So glad Dick's Sporting Goods still carries them.

On Tuesday, I also made a trip to Kohl's and to Payless Shoe Source, where I replaced many items that were worn out and/or now too big for me.  (I'd still been making do with slacks for work that were really too big for me.  The clearance racks at Kohl's provided some much needed wardrobe renewal!)  New shoes were a must, too, as I had only one pair of flats suitable for work, and I really needed more presentable comfy shoes.

Wednesday was another shopping day. This time I went to Penney's.  I found several different colors of a style of shirt I LOVE because it is so versatile in my wardrobe for work, church, even casual wear, AND THEY WERE ON SALE!!  BIG price reduction.  Felt very lucky.

Then, when chatting with the young cashier, I heard something that made me wonder if my life's work had been in vain.  She HATES to read!! Oh, dear LORD, that is NOT something you say to someone who is not only a bookworm, but a former teacher and a current library employee!!  I told her she just hadn't met the right author yet, and she needed to keep trying. I also told her that the library has free audiobooks, if you'd rather listen than read.  No law says you have to finish a book you don't enjoy.  Just totally FLOORED me that someone did not read AT ALL!!  Also, she seemed to be HAPPY about it!  Nobody read stories to that child, I'm betting.  Nobody introduced her to Alice, or Bilbo Baggins, or Mr. Toad, or Dorothy and Toto.  What a sad, one-dimensional life she must have.  She is in school, so I am hoping someone MAKES her take a literature class, and that she has a wonderful professor who will introduce her to the reason reading can be FUN.  Escape, adventure, new knowledge - all there, between the covers of a book!

I also hope that if she hates reading because she has difficulty with it, that someone will find out and find a way to help her.  There are LOTS of adult literacy services available here that are free and confidential.  I just hate to see anyone miss out on the joy. Sigh.  If we had stayed in CA, I would have finished my Reading Specialist credential, and I'd probably still be in the trenches teaching kids AND grownups how to read and enjoy reading.  So, dear cheerful child, telling THIS library lady that you don't like to read was NOT a good idea!

Today, my actual birthday, and it has been a glorious day.  The sun was out, the wind was out of the North and a bit chilly, but the day was just gorgeous.
Even better were all the greetings, well wishes, and even a few gifts from friends and family all over the world!  I am truly blessed, and all of my friends mean SO much to me, just to know that you care about me as much as I care about you, it's really a blessing.

I got up today and got my walk and weight workout done, then headed off to the salon for my haircut, and then went down to Norman to get the oil changed in the car.  Once that was done, I went to Target to look around, and found a new set of rugs for our front hall!  A very nice change, and much needed!
I then decided to check out the Norman Kohl's, and found a neat reversible vest to wear while walking, a new long-sleeved walking shirt, a pair of "yoga leggings", and a new pair of black skinny jeans.  All in all a good day.  (I also found a few things for others who have birthdays coming soon...)

Fresh haircut, new sweater, new shirt, new earrings and necklace, tired birthday girl.

So, I wanted to have some really deep thoughts to post, but I think the two margaritas I had at dinner may have rendered that idea a non-starter.
I am just really happy, really full of a good steak dinner, and have a dining room table full of flowers courtesy of my friends Fi, Geoff and Hayden, and my dear Husband, who sent me flower arrangements for my birthday.

Also, my friend Kevin posted the following picture on my Facebook page with the caption: "I got you a present, but he broke loose."

Said Kevin: "I got you a present, but he broke loose."

I think I may treat myself to a massage and facial tomorrow.  I've never had either one before, so I think it's a long overdue indulgence.  I have the money, for once, so I think I'll try.  I just hope the ticklishness is not an issue...

2/26
I did indeed get a massage,neck, shoulders and back only, and a facial today.  It was a very relaxing experience.  Maybe I won't wake up with a sore shoulder in the morning. 
Also, Matt and I went to a tasting event at Nosh this evening, and then stopped at Brand Name Mattress Gallery and ordered a new mattress and box spring.  (Ours are shot.)  This was made possible because of a small bequest from my Mom.  We'd been saving toward a new mattress, but now we can go ahead and get it.
I have done a little writing over the last couple of days, I shall post my daily bits below.

I must say once again that I am beyond blessed by the kindness of all my friends near and far.  I have been showered with love, and I truly do appreciate it.  You know who you are, and you know I love you!


Daily reading/writing:
2/24/16

"I have a Gumbie cat in mind..."
I cannot read this one anymore without hearing Mr. Lloyd Webber's music.
This poem is more in the way of anthropomorphizing  the cat than the previous poem, also far more than Bukowski EVER did.
This Gumbie cat is quite the household busybody and do-gooder , out to improve the lot of all the other creatures in the household.
If you have ever dealt with a certain species of small- town lady, this cat is VERY familiar.
There is always someone, usually a lady of a "certain age" , who gets things going in the community as far as education and training, and things SHE feels are of benefit to the community as a whole.  I've met a few cats like this, but usually not cats we owned.  The female cat we lost a few years ago now was a diva.  an opera fan, and very much "in charge".  We called her "Madame", even though her name was Skye She had an established routine, a way things were preferred to be done. and Heaven help you if you caused a delay or disruption!

2/25/16
"Growltiger's Last Stand"
Here we have Eliot telling an epic story for us of a cat who caused trouble wherever he went.
He terrorized everyone, and consequently, no one came to his aid when an enemy got him surrounded.
Perhaps the lesson here is that if you are a bully, and use and abuse others, NO ONE will be sorry to see you go - they may even line up to help those who seek to do you harm.

It's my birthday -
I've had a busy and very enjoyable day. So many greetings from all over.
I am truly blessed.
So many times I wonder if what I do in this world is noticed - and then a day like this comes along, and I know it is.  I know that those I cherish also cherish me.  It means more than I can say, my heart is so full, I just can't hold all the joy!

2/26/16

"His disobliging ways are a matter of a habit." - Rum Tum Tugger -T.S.Eliot

Again- cat behavior as human behavior.  Cats are independent creatures really.  Made to be hunters- only "tamed" by us for their own convenience.
That said, we can see Mr. Eliot;s point all too easily - the cat who never seems to be satisfied unless he's put someone to trouble on his behalf.
How many, many people do we see like this? How often are we like this ourselves? It would behoove us perhaps, to remember that humans are NOT really meant to be independent hunters- we were created with a need for each other.
Being social is a part of what we are - even those who are introverted- we need other people around if only to know that the world goes on-
The world as it is today is a very INTERDEPENDENT place.  We need each other, or nothing works.
We need perhaps to be a little more mindful and a little more kind to everyone around, for everyone has something to contribute, and certainly without those that monitor and maintain our power plants, our water treatment facilities, those who clean up after everyone, those who transport food and other things we need, those that grow the food, well where WOULD we be? 
Almost no one lives in such a place, or has such knowledge and resources to provide all those things for themselves anymore.  Therefore, let us be amused by the "Rum Tum Tugger's " behavior, for he is a cat, but let us not emulate it, for we NEED each other and we should be ever mindful of that.

Ruminations on Readings

2/20/16

"Cat E: just came to the door one day, all black, the perfect animal, each movement
Slides through space without friction,
he's the leopard, those yellow eyes look at you and say
kill or be killed, he's centuries old
the other cats stay away from him
Including the great fighter:  C
it's the EYES, they can't handle those
EYES
he will never be tamed
yet manage to pick him up, stroke him, put him
down, he will follow you for
some minutes, purring:
he is thanking you for not murdering
him
he'd scare the hell out of Charles Manson
and if he had to choose from such things
in a milder moment he might possibly go
Celine." -Bukouski, from Five Cats

This cat very much puts me in mind of our Cinders.
He didn't really belong to anyone
But consented to let us be the closet thing to staff he ever had.
He was very leopard - like -
big, sleek, battle-scarred and
very sure of himself
The father of Generations
(Grandsire of our Ollie, who loved my Mom so much)

The neighborhood dogs were afraid of him,

I've seen him sit on a sidewalk cleaning his paw casually
as a young pit bull ran up barking and growling, the other neighborhood dogs
basically yelling : "No, man, don't do it!!"
He started slowing down, but not before he got close enough.  Cinders reached out and slammed that well-groomed paw right into the dog's face.  He yelped and stopped, shaking his head, and Cinders clouted him again, just to remind him who's boss in the neighborhood. 
He used to walk with the postman, who was very glad of his company, as all of the dogs would back away, giving Cinders, and consequently himself, a wide berth.
Cinders was most definitely a tomcat,
and it was his
Don Juan ways that led to his demise.
No opponent bested him -
None but a feline sort of VD,
The vet said not much would help

and the old guy
was suffering greatly
Consenting to staying in the laundry room.
We finally saw the look in his eye that said "I's time."
We took him to the vet for a
 peaceful exit
And there was great mourning
in the neighborhood.
Even the dogs kept a
A moment of silence.

2/21/16

"Cats and people and you and me

and everything -
the Egyptians loved the cat
were often entombed with it
instead of the woman
and never the dog
and now
the good people with the
good eyes
are very few

yet the fine cats
with great style
lounge about the alleys of
the universe

about
our argument tonight
whatever it was
about
and
no matter
how unhappy
it made us
feel
remember that
there is a
cat
somewhere
adjusting to the
space of itself
with a delightful
wonderment of
easiness

in other words
magic persists
without us
no matter what
we do
against it.

and I would plunder and
destroy the last chance of
myself and of you
that this might
continue

there is no
argument."
- Bukowski

"Magic persists."
Mr. Bukowski tells us
In spite of all we do to thwart it,
it does.
We sometimes won't see it

because we humans
like explanations
and logic.
Magic is too messy
and too
Whimsical
To suit us
Magic like
Rain + sunlight = rainbow
Magic like
The Robin's Evensong
Like a child's smile
Like the sweetness
of honey
Like all the
Millions of little,
Magical
Moments
and things
that make life
real.


2/22/16

"I know, I know
they are limited, have different
needs and
concerns.

but I watch and learn from then
I like the little they know
which is so
much

they complain but never
worry.
they walk with a surprising dignity
they sleep with a direct simplicity that
humans just can't
understand,

their eyes are more
beautiful than our eyes
and they can sleep 20 hours
a day
without
hesitation or
remorse

When I am feeling
low
all I have to do is
watch my cats
and my
courage
returns

I study these
creatures
they are my
teachers."
-Bukowski

The "little they know which is so much"
 is that lesson of living in the present moment which is so difficult for us hamster-wheel brained humans.
 That wheel is always spinning, our minds restless.
Mulling over everything that is, was, or could be-
While cats live in the beauty of
Right Now,
and enjoy it without being distracted by that sort of dratted squeaking wheel.
Why can't I still that tumbling mind, learn to just "be" as cats do?
My head is a very noisy place
on the inside.

2/23/16

"And now, for something completely different."...
I've been ruminating on the cat- themed poems of Charles Bukowski, but starting today, I shall muse on the very famous "Old Possum's Book Of Practical Cats" by T.S. Eliot
I have long loved these poems, and the wonderful musical based upon them.
There is most definite music in Thomas Sterns Eliot's work.

The very first poem- "The Naming Of Cats"
tells of all the problems attendant to trying to sum up such a marvelous, singular creature as a particular cat.We name them usually, for our convenience, but they have a name beyond  any we can fathom -
Given, I believe by that Power whose Love made us all possible.
"When you notice a cat in
profound meditation,
The reason, I tell you is always
the same:
His mind is engaged in a rapt contemplation
of the thought, of the thought
Of the thought of his name:
His ineffable effable
Effanineffable
Deep and inscrutable singular Name."
- T.S. Eliot , The Naming Of Cats

Perhaps we also engage in a variety of this meditation from time to time, trying, usually in vain
To learn to hear the Name
Given by our Creator
Who calls to us in love
Softly, sometimes distantly,
Yet oh, so insistently
To find our true self
As seen by the eyes
of a love
Beyond our comprehension.

The Muse Goes On...

Boots, photographed by my fellow soprano Mary Reynolds

2/17/16
Boots
The Cathedral Cat
Snoozing in the
Sun
In front of the
Narthex door
To the cloister
Her cloister,
it often seems.
For that is where
She waits
To greet us
Every Wednesday
For rehearsal
And on Sundays
Before the crowds
Arrive
Boots has her favorites
Mostly among the choir
For cats
And good music
Just seem
To go together
-C,K. Armistead Feb 17,2016

2/17/16
(Bukowski On Cats reading)
"They are asleep across the top of my feet.
I can feel the gentle weight of them
the touch of fur
I am aware of their breathing:
good things happen often, remember that
as the Bombs trundle out in their
magnificent dumbness
these
at my feet
know more
are
more,
and instants of the moment explode
larger
and a lucky past
can never be
killed." - Bukowski

Cats, indeed any animals, can be a reminder of the stubbornness of joy in life.
Oh, many of us ignore joy, or lose it for a LONG time, but joy lies in wait
Like a cat in the shadows
Under the table of life
To spring on us again
And catch us
In those thrilling
If slightly painful claws
For most joy has a tinge
Of sorrow
Or guilt with it-
We humans know how lousy
We can be
How undeserving of joy
But joy deigns still
To pounce on us
Once in a while
In unexpected places
Just like a cat
At play with our souls.


2/18/16

"I live with a lady and four cats
and some days we all get
along.
some days I trouble with
one of the
cats
other days I have trouble with
two of the
cats.
other days,
three.
Some days I have trouble with
all four of the
cats
and the
lady
ten eyes looking at me
as if I were a dog.
- Bukowski

This poem perfectly depicts the feeling you get from an unhappy cat.  They look at you with this odd combination of disgust, disappointment, and pity.
I suppose we ladies DO look upon our men that way sometimes.
Times when they've behaved
Like a very rambunctious
and undisciplined puppy
Or a grouchy, growly
Old dog.
But I hope I look at
You with more
Understanding
Because I always understood
That the dog
Just couldn't help it.

2/19/16

"It's 11:45 pm and
I'm drunk...
listen, relax, you've read
worse
poems than
this...
and I've written
them." - Bukowski

Very encouraging to know that I am not alone in feeling that I've written some awful drivel, and also some not so bad.
Written a few things that truly shine and make me proud of myself.
Just hard to realize that others feel the same about their own work
Hey, this one's not great
But it's not garbage, either.

Skye admiring herself

For I Have PromisesTo Keep...

...Mostly to myself. I chose making myself write something every day as a Lenten discipline.  Doesn't mean I'm going to write anything GOOD, just means I'll write.  So far, I have written something in my notebook every day.  I collect those here on the blog every other day or so, or more often if I feel like it.

Next week is my Birthday Vacation Week - so I take off work and indulge myself for my birthday.  For a whole week.  Really, I use the time to catch up on projects, maybe I go out and shop a little, or take myself to lunch for once.  Some years I do something charitable, but I don't tell anyone.

This week before is going to be busy.  Dentist tomorrow, choir on Wednesday evening, Thursday is my turn to do Zumba at the library, (meaning I set up for them, and work out with them if I want, I usually do.)  I am hoping my new sunglasses come in this week, so I don't have to go do that during my vacation.

My "squirrel!" brain keeps leaping off on tangents any time I try to concentrate right now.
Yogi Bedtime Tea may help settle me down.  I hope so.

This is all I came up with this morning:
2/15/16

Bukowski had a lot to say today.  No one quote stood out.
 These were mostly the poems about particular cats. "Butch" the altered black tom who still fights, and a "Manx" cat that turned out not to be a manx after all, just a cat somebody cut the tail off of.
These two were survivors.  Both had made it past multiple injuries and insults, and still lived proudly on their own terms.  I think that's a lot of what Bukowski admired about them.
They took more crap from life than most other creatures do, and yet they were undefeated - unbowed by life.
There are a few people you meet like that, but most of them hide their misfortunes and hurts, not wanting to have to explain.  A few recognize the value of the lessons that come with each and every scar, and they wear them proudly.


2/16/16

one for the old  boy
he was just a
cat
cross-eyed.

a dirty white
with pale blue eyes.

I won't bore you with his
history
just to say
he had much bad luck
and was a good old
guy
and he died
like people die
like elephants die
like rats die
like flowers die
like water evaporates and
the winds stops blowing

the lungs gave out
last Monday
now he's in the rose
garden
and I've heard a
stirring march
playing for him
inside of me
which I know

not many
but some of you
would like to
know
about.
that's
all.  
-Charles Bukowski
(From the book Charles Bukowski On Cats)

This poem about a cat who died is very touching to me.  I've lost some cats to death in my time.
Lost our Madame just about three years ago.
She very much died as she lived- entirely on her own terms.
Here, in my office,
After drowsing all afternoon on this very settee I'm sitting on.
She just jumped down, coughed a bit, and fell over - gone.
We knew she had cancer, but she hadn't seemed to be too awfully ill until that day.  She wasn't going to let us do the "extreme measures" or put her through stays at the vet.  Nope.  She died at home, with us nearby.
And I miss that damned cat.
Every.
Single.
Day.


The talk of death and loss always brings me back to my Mom these days.  It is hard to know she's finally gone completely.  She had been disappearing gradually, like some strange kind of mythical creature, slowly evaporating on the winds of time.  Not because nobody believed in her anymore, but perhaps because she no longer believed in herself.  All her contemporaries were gone.  Her sisters, her husband, so many friends, it must be God-awful to watch everybody who knew you when die off all around you. Yes, she still had us, but children are children, no matter that they grow up and become adults.  We were still her babies, still not privy to the truth of her experience in this world.  Not like Aunt Margaret was, or Aunt Sybil, or even my Pop.  
Some days, I think of Mom and I laugh, remembering her sense of humor, and how tickled she would get, and giggle about something with me.
And some days I cry, because she was my mommy, and I miss her.  I'm nobody's baby anymore.  (Well, I'm still the baby sister, but there's nobody going around saying to people "This is my baby." when they introduce me.  Which isn't entirely a bad thing, it was just that she was so cute when she did that.  )
Mom had a lot of cats waiting on her at the Rainbow Bridge.  And a few dogs, too.  I only hope my Madame didn't try to butt in.  (You have to wait for US, Madame, WE'RE your staff, remember?)  Mom had Oliver, who started out as ours, but stayed behind with Mom when we went to Germany.  Ollie LOVED Mom.  He followed her EVERYWHERE around the house, slept with her at night, sat on her lap in the recliner, was VERY much her companion.  He was such an elegant, dapper little panther.  I am sure he was there to meet her, and walked on with Herbie, another cat of ours, to meet Pop, who probably had Bobo winding around his ankles as he waited.
Yes, this family loved many cats.  There were dogs, too, and OD and Skippy and Misty and Cubby were probably waiting on Mom and Pop,too.  (Though Cubby may hold out for my brother.  He was really Butch's dog, I think.  Before my time.) Skippy MIGHT wait for me.  He was my first dog, but he loved Mom and Pop, too.

That's enough  of that for now.

Too late have I wandered
Down this lane tonight.
Tarrying in words
And phrases never right.
Brain worn out
And in need of sleep
But heart refusing
And keeping me awake.
Feelings needed out
Words needed to be written
 -CKArmistead 2/16/16

"For I have promises to keep.
And miles to go before I sleep."
 -Robert Frost

Weekend Gone to Wrack and Ruin

R2/13/16
"I don't like love as a command, as a search. it must come to you like a hungry cat at the door." -Bukowski

I may seem obsessed, but I am working on a story involving characters from the Beauty and the Beast  television program from 1987-90.  I see the quote above, and I think -  it's so very true for Catherine - Love is, quite literally some nights, like a hungry cat at her balcony door.  For some nights, we see Vincent watch over her sleep through the French doors.  He does look hungry, also protective, cherishing.
So much rich metaphor in that show- perhaps one of the reasons I love it so.  The best thing about it is the quality of the acting. Such a talented cast, and writers, so much better than most everything else on TV at that time.
I have seen few programs since that have even begun to engage my imagination like this one.

As for the larger topic- love quite often finds us when we stop searching.  Love found me, that is, romantic love, when I had stopped looking and thrown myself into work, and into finally becoming an active participant in Star Trek fandom. (Another program that has ALWAYS engaged my imagination, since I was six years old!)
That fan club is where I met the lady who would become my mother-in-law. Also met my future sister-in-law.  Soon, Matthew showed up at meetings, parties, drove us all in his passenger van to conventions, and we started talking.  A lot.  He made me laugh, something I really needed.  He could follow my often disjointed train of thought, he GOT me.  It was a novel experience.
He is still about the only living human of the male variety who really understands me and my introspective, introverted ways.  Even though I am friendly and interested in people, I can't take groups of people for very long at a time.  He has learned to see the signs of "social fatigue" in my body language, and will sometimes even rescue me from a crowded, noisy space before I realize myself that my limits have been reached.
Yes, and I have found friends and even some degree of understanding from my family when I stopped actively seeking approval and started just being OK with being ME.

2/13/16

The little dog ran
He ran grumping and grousing
Under his breath
He was cranky,
Angry.
His world was being turned
Inside out and
Upside down.
Things were changing
Being removed
Everything
Was not how it had
ALWAYS
been.
He ran after the walking lady
Not because he hated her
But because he loved her,
He loved her, but
She was ignoring him
She didn't turn to see him there,
Didn't acknowledge that he
Was a great and fierce warrior
Protecting his pack,
Not like she usually did.
ANOTHER thing
Being NOT as
It SHOULD be.
When he hit her leg
His teeth catching the pants
She wore,
He did not believe
What he had done.
He saw her look of sadness
She was sorry she had
Missed him, sorry
She made him lash out.
He felt ashamed.
He let the boy pick him up
And take him back into
The house.
The house that no longer FELT right.
And he couldn't forget
That he had hurt
His friend.

(For Brodie:  No hard feelings, buddy.  You're a Good Dog!)

To A Sick Child

Poor little one.
You look so tired.
I can almost feel
The queasiness
The lethargy
The dullness
That surrounds you now.
Don't worry.
Your Mama brought you
To a place where they can help.
You'll feel better soon,
Sweet baby.
Until then,
I'm asking the angels and the saints
To watch over you
While you wait.

2/14/16

"Good luck, old fellow,
it doesn't come easy,
hung to our balls we are, that's it,
we're hung to our balls, and I could use a little myself-
meanwhile-
watch the eyes and lead with the left
and run like hell
when it just isn't any use
anymore."
-Bukowski, from "the cat's balls"

A fit verse for Valentine's Day, eh?
Humans, like cats, particularly the males, pursuing Romance because of biological imperative.
Maybe.
But it's more than that.
It has to be.
Because just procreating
Doesn't raise offspring
To be useful in the world, no.
Love does that.
"It doesn't come easy"
No, it does not.  It's work.  A relationship that gives true satisfaction is work.
And if you think you're going to feel that satisfaction all the time and forever, you're deluding yourself.
Love is all about hanging in there even when you'd rather give up.
It's the uncommitted, unsatisfying and unsatisfied tom cat who will "run like hell when it just isn't any use anymore."
The lover whose heart is true will be there through all the disappointments, the dirty dishes, the stack of unpaid bills, the squalling kids, the times when Romance is the LAST thing either of you wants.
Love will be there, helping wash the dishes, figuring out how to pay the bills, sorting out the kids, and helping you survive all in once piece until such time as Romance decides to dance into town for another whirlwind visit.

He thinks I don't know
That he sees what's really in my heart
Even when I can't say the words,
Even when what I DO say is hard, sharp, mean.
He knows I love him, and more deeply than I can say
Because I trust him enough
To let him see the unedited version
Of myself.
Nobody else hears the unconsidered words
The awful fits of temper,
The awful depths of self-doubt and self-loathing.
He's seen it all.
And he's still here.
He loves me.
And that is a gift
I will NEVER take for granted.

Childhood
By CK Armistead 2/14/16

The pavement's cracked
And the weeds grow through it
And nobody cares enough anymore
To come and see to it.
 Our neighborhood
Isn't like it was when YOU
Were little here.
No troops of
Father Knows Best kids
Or Leave It To Beaver families
Living here now.
More like somethin'
Out of a movie
About a place that got
Sucker punched in the gut,
And is busy wheezing and coughing
And most probably dying.
A few friends around,
All of us scared.
We can't play outside until
The streetlights come on any more.
That shit stopped when I was six.
Where were you?
Oh,, yeah, that's right, you were either in college or married, or both.
You weren't going to that school
Where we had to be afraid to be alone
On the playground
Or in the bathroom
Or even in the hall.
Where the color of the shirt you wore
Could decide whether or not you got beat on
Today.
YOUR friends never got beat on just for being your friends.
When you went to these schools, YOU were the majority party,
There were "decent" people running things.
Instead of desperate and dedicated people,
Trying to do their best with
A dwindling tax base
And more crimes than you would believe.
All because your "decent" childhood friends' families
Couldn't STAND the thought of having BLACK FOLKS
In their neighborhood.
If they'd stayed,
They would have learned.
People
ARE JUST
People.
No matter what color the outside is.
Good neighbors come in all colors, shapes and sizes.
And so do staunch friends
Who sit with you at lunch
And walk to the bus stop with you
Even if it means somebody may beat them up.
There are people who believe in Dr. King's dream
 Even when they hear gunfire in the night.

More Maddening Bits that Fall Into and Out Of My Head

One of the librarians asked today: "If you had to choose a book to "be" , like the people at the end of Farenheit451, which book would you choose to be?"  It's a stumper.  There are so many books I love.  Shakespeare, Frost, Longfellow, Ogden Nash, heck, BRADBURY! Which book to choose?!

There are days when I feel like I am entirely unappreciated and taken for granted.  Good ol' Katie, always where she's supposed to be, always does what needs to be done.  Some days I feel like disappearing.  Then we'd see if I was missed.

My love is not given lightly. If I say I love you, it is no small thing to me.



2/11/16
"We walk upon a midnight's rug neither drunk nor dreamed nor drugged." - Bukowski

The only lines that catch me in today's reading.
Cats, hunters, traditionally tend to stalk the night
and some humans, perhaps innocently,
Stalk in midnight's dark, as well.
Those who can't sleep
Perhaps kept wakeful
By words and images in their heads
Things that want out desperately
Yet balk at the blank page
Or the empty screen.
No alcohol, no dreams, no chemical inducements-
Just stubborn muses
Who refuse to be hurried along.
Much like the moon.
And the cat.


2/12

"The factories, the jails, the drunken days and nights, the hospitals have weakened and shaken me like a mouse in the mouth of a hip-cat:  life." - Bukowski


I feel weakened and shaken, but it is more by the endless chores and endless losses that seem to make up life.
"We all live in a yellow subroutine" is an OLD programmer's joke, but it is very apt.
Most of us in this life spend most of our time dealing with seemingly trivial background matters - those delegated to a subroutine in a program-
However, any programmer can tell you, if even one little line of a subroutine breaks down, if those "trivial" bits cease to be dealt with, the entire program WILL crash.


How little time there is to really enjoy the moments we are alive.  So many details barge in, our own needs, the needs of others, future needs that want planning for, how are we ever supposed to just BE in this world?  It's too damn hard to do.  Too difficult to find time to just soak up your surroundings and your existence.  Intrusions are everywhere, but most of all inside my own head.  Words, words, words, passions, colors, shapes, love, sorrow, joy, all come crowding in, all at once, and shatter any hard-won silence I may find.

Wednesday Morning Wanderings

"There are no spirits or gods in the cat, don't look for them, Shed.  A cat is the picture of the eternal machinery, like the sea.  You don't pet the sea because it's pretty, but you pet a cat-why?-ONLY BECAUSE HE'LL LET YOU.  And a cat never knows fear-finally- he only winds up into the spring of the sea and the rock, and even in a death-fight he does not think of anything but the majesty of darkness." - Charles Bukowski


Perhaps that last bit is why cats were deemed evil in some places during the Middle Ages.  Cats know their place in the Universe, they walk with confident ease, making self-doubt ridden  humans feel too much like prey.
Perhaps this sense of the "majesty of darkness" is part of what makes "Vincent" in th 1987 TV program "Beauty and the Beast" so compelling.  In Mr. Perlman's portrayal of him we can see the duality of the uncertain, uncomfortable human and the majestic, certain, graceful, but often merciless beast.
A cat, an apex predator, more secure in that role, especially as a protector of what is his, than any human could ever be.
Yet, he has all those human frailties we are all faced with - he knows fear, knows the feeling of longing to belong, but feeling that he does not, knows a fear of a part of himself that seems alien to the rest of humanity, but is it really?  Isn't it only a matter of degree?
In every human heart is the instinct to protect that which we love from harm, and that which we need to survive from being lost.  The major difference is that humans think we need to temper this instinct, and are apologetic about it, at least most of the time.
Cats have no such self-doubts.  They know what they are, they accept the gifts of their strength and grace, and protect what is theirs with compelling ferocity.
It is to Mr. Perlman's and the show's writers great credit that we could see this conflict in Vincent's character.  After all, he is a symbol for what is ultimately a very human struggle:  how to learn to love and accept all of ourselves.  Vincent makes definite progress in this area, but, like most of us, never fully achieves that acceptance of his more instinctual nature.
This question of the duality of his nature has been discussed quite often in fan fiction, and often is handled very well, giving us even more to ponder about the nature of what it really means to be "human."

Here They Come Again...

Those random thoughts that don't really go together, or make enough for one blog post on their own...


Why do I have so little patience with politicians?  I really DON'T want to listen to them.  I just get the feeling that if their lips are moving, they're lying.

Why are we having potentially severe thunderstorms in FEBRUARY ??!!  This crap isn't SUPPOSED to get serious until MAY.  Go away, Bloody Weather!
(Monty Python reference, for those of you who don't get it...)

How is it that I set out to get some things (like making birthday cards) done, and end up putting it off until it's almost too late?  (Perhaps it's a denial of how swiftly time is passing...)

The heartbreak of forgetting to put on your fitness tracker before a workout when you've just joined a competition on FitBit...

How is it that I gained no weight on a trip when I ate all kinds of fattening stuff, but gained three pounds after I've been home a week?


Strange how close you can be to people who live far away.  I have family and friends like that.  Treasures.  So glad for all the new ways to stay in touch.

I am sick unto death of the presidential race already, and primary season isn't even really kicked off yet.  Sigh.  It's going to be a LONG year.

Why are quality eyeglasses so expensive?  If I don't buy the more expensive frames, they fall apart early.  I am rather hard on my eyeglasses, as I wear them so much.  Lately though, I don't need to wear them 24/7, so I take them off from time to time to let my eyes readjust.  So, I just spent a young fortune on something I need, but may not need to wear all the time.  Nice.

All kinds of shopping is more fun with your girlfriends.  Even if those girlfriends are on Twitter, and not in the store with you.  My sister #PerlGirls helped me pick out my frames for my new glasses and sunglasses today.  I think we did well.  We'll know for sure in about two weeks.

Hey, they showed up early!  I got a text to pick them up this morning. Not too shabby, eh?

Every now and then, I have a really grouchy, self-doubting day and think that I've been deluding myself all along about what my life is really like...

Sometimes, even things that should be good things make you sad.

Trying to get something out of your head and onto a page is the most difficult job there is.  God bless the writers who manage to do this every day.

New glasses always take some getting used to.  These are better than the old ones, but I still have to hold my head at an awkward angle when using the computer sometimes.  As long as I can focus toward the bottom of the screen, I'm good.  Higher up on the page, and I have to tip my head back to see through the proper lens.

Time flies, even when you're sitting on your bum and staring at the wall. (I meant to be reading, but got lost in thought...)

Tuesday Morning Jots

Reading Bukowski's writings on cats first thing in the morning is probably not the sanest thing to do. So full  of the savagery and the beauty of life - the enigma that is the cat.
No worse than reading the Bible, I suppose.
The Bible is also full of savagery, and beauty.
All the truest observations about this life God made.  Man in all his cruelty, Nature in its absolute adherence to the laws set forth for it.
Perhaps that is the lesson.
Nature's laws are often brutal- kill or be killed- you are either Predator or Prey - Humans are SUPPOSED to be better, supposed to have mercy, because God has Mercy, and we are supposed to be made in God's image.
Isn't that the whole of the Bible right there? The call to humans to  live up to the truth of their creation, after all?


Just my random Tuesday morning before serious caffeine thoughts.  Your mileage may (and probably should) vary.

Rhyme
Fighting through a bit of malaise
These last few days
Emotionally feeling like shit
Not much of life seeming to fit
My friends are the same
Some too quiet, some too game
The few just right
Know my trouble at first sight.
My love just leaves me be with it
Having learned over the years that it
Isn't something he can fix
That unborn words are part of this mix
Frustration more than sadness
Is at the heart of this madness
And All will soon be well again
Once I can take up my pen.

(All written by C.K.Armistead February 9, 2016)

Passing Along A Joke

Just passing along a joke a friend sent to me in an email.  Warning, if you are offended easily, you may wish to skip this one...

A nun walks into Mother Superior's office and plunks down into a chair. She lets out a sigh heavy with frustration.

'What troubles you, Sister?' asked the Mother Superior. 'I thought this was the day you spent with your family.'

'It was, ' sighed the Sister. 'And I went to play golf with my brother. We try to play golf as often as we can. You know I was quite a talented golfer before I devoted my life to Christ.'

'I seem to recall that, ' the Mother Superior agreed. 'So I take it your day of recreation was not relaxing?'

'Far from it, ' snorted the Sister. 'In fact, I even took the Lord's name in vain today!'

'Goodness, Sister!' gasped the Mother Superior, astonished. 'You must tell me all about it!'

'Well, we were on the fifth tee ... and this hole is a monster, Mother—540-yard par-5, with a nasty dogleg right and a hidden green ... and I hit the drive of my life. I creamed it. The sweetest swing I ever made.

And it's flying straight and true, right along the line I wanted ... and it hits a bird in mid-flight!'

'Oh my!' commiserated the Mother. 'How unfortunate! But surely that didn't make you blaspheme, Sister!'

'No, that wasn't it, ' admitted Sister. 'While I was still trying to fathom what had happened, this squirrel runs out of the woods, grabs my ball and runs off down the fairway!'

'Oh, that would have made me blaspheme!' sympathized the Mother.

'But I didn't, Mother!' sobbed the Sister. 'And I was so proud of myself! And while I was pondering whether this was a sign from God, this hawk swoops out of the sky and grabs the squirrel and flies off, with my ball still clutched in his paws!'

'So that's when you cursed, ' said the Mother with a knowing smile.

'Nope, that wasn't it either, ' cried the Sister, anguished, 'because as the hawk started to fly out of sight, the squirrel started struggling, and the hawk dropped him right there on the green, and the ball popped out of his paws and rolled to about 18 inches from the cup!'

Mother Superior sat back in her chair, folded her arms across her chest, fixed the Sister with a baleful stare and said...

'You missed the fu*#ing putt, didn't you?'