Get the sister!! Get her!
Happy Birthday, Dear Wylla!
6 years ago
Wednesday, March 18, 2009
Tuesday, March 10, 2009
Monday, March 9, 2009
Sunday, March 8, 2009
Saturday, March 7, 2009
Medication,Flatulation and Indignation or Cats and Curmudgeons: If you can't beat 'em, join 'em!
Like you, my life has been filled with challenges. In the face of whatever the world was throwing at me it was comforting to center myself with this question. "How the hell did I get myself into this mess?". As time passed however the futility of this approach became apparent. As the Zen Master so wisely said "When struck with an arrow does one ask, " What wood is the shaft made of? What bird surrendered the feathers to keep it true?". "No! You pull the arrow out and do your best to stem the bleeding." So gradually the question became "Where is the Emergency exit and can I possibly outrun these angry villagers?" My latest challenge has left me begging for angry villagers. I am taking care of an old person. A very unpleasant one. To be fair I don't know of any pleasant ones but I have met old people who were less unpleasant and that's all I have to judge it by.
How does one recognize an old person? Could one be living in your midst? Use this simple two part test. First notify them that the record player has stopped working. It's not important that the record player really be on the blink, this is a ruse you see. If they say "It was my turn to wind it, please forgive me" it is likely you are dealing with an old person. To positively confirm the fact go to your refrigerator and remark how the milk feels a tad warm. Again, you need not heat the milk, this is an elaborate deception remember. If the person asks "Well what day does the iceman deliver?" then the case my friends is most decidedly closed.
It's impossible to explain, at least until the statute of limitations runs out, how I came to be responsible for an old person. Let me just say that if this were a sitcom, I would be playing the part of the Wacky Neighbor, forever getting mixed up in hilarious hijinks. Like bathing the elderly-cue the laugh track. In all honesty there are some lighthearted moments. We play games together to pass the time. If my old person says " I know I came in the living room for a reason, now what was it? " I gamely suggest some possible reasons. If it were a Sunday I might offer " You came out to watch Ed Sullivan with me silly. Stiller and Meara are on for sure and maybe those guys who spin the plates on poles will be on too". This would never work on a Monday. You probably see this coming but I might say "Don't you remember that last week Gunsmoke was a TO BE CONTINUED. All week you have been on pins and needles about how Festus would escape those gypsies, or was it Comanches? Either way, pull up a chair!" We no longer play Hide the Dentures. Suffice it to say that once he found out he still had his own teeth the two hour search had angered the bee in his bonnet exponentially.
So why do I do it? It's just that he had a cat named Tiger. Once you have a cat like that you miss him terribly and ache inside when he leaves you. I wondered what made Tiger so special so I asked. Holding the sterling silver tin that contained Tiger's ashes my old person just choked up. I get it I told him. I know three cats just like that.
How does one recognize an old person? Could one be living in your midst? Use this simple two part test. First notify them that the record player has stopped working. It's not important that the record player really be on the blink, this is a ruse you see. If they say "It was my turn to wind it, please forgive me" it is likely you are dealing with an old person. To positively confirm the fact go to your refrigerator and remark how the milk feels a tad warm. Again, you need not heat the milk, this is an elaborate deception remember. If the person asks "Well what day does the iceman deliver?" then the case my friends is most decidedly closed.
It's impossible to explain, at least until the statute of limitations runs out, how I came to be responsible for an old person. Let me just say that if this were a sitcom, I would be playing the part of the Wacky Neighbor, forever getting mixed up in hilarious hijinks. Like bathing the elderly-cue the laugh track. In all honesty there are some lighthearted moments. We play games together to pass the time. If my old person says " I know I came in the living room for a reason, now what was it? " I gamely suggest some possible reasons. If it were a Sunday I might offer " You came out to watch Ed Sullivan with me silly. Stiller and Meara are on for sure and maybe those guys who spin the plates on poles will be on too". This would never work on a Monday. You probably see this coming but I might say "Don't you remember that last week Gunsmoke was a TO BE CONTINUED. All week you have been on pins and needles about how Festus would escape those gypsies, or was it Comanches? Either way, pull up a chair!" We no longer play Hide the Dentures. Suffice it to say that once he found out he still had his own teeth the two hour search had angered the bee in his bonnet exponentially.
So why do I do it? It's just that he had a cat named Tiger. Once you have a cat like that you miss him terribly and ache inside when he leaves you. I wondered what made Tiger so special so I asked. Holding the sterling silver tin that contained Tiger's ashes my old person just choked up. I get it I told him. I know three cats just like that.
Sunday, March 1, 2009
Cat's Who Chew On Crucifixes: Iconoclasm or Mysticism?
Throughout our time together my goal has been to clearly explain the circumstances that led to my current awkward situation. It has probably become painfully obvious that I am not a "cat person". It is not always easy being caretaker and confidante to three four legged ciphers, especially against one's will. Three factors were working to prepare me for the difficult task ahead. First my father, a stoic of sorts but prone to fits of temper. The second factor was my mother, a martyr of sorts but prone to fits of giggling. The third factor involved a stranger who spoke no English. He shared this bit of wisdom with me, "Arriba ya del caballo, hay que aguantar los respingos." Whenever the three mischief makers seem to be getting the upper hand that old proverb gives me the boost I need.
Woody Allen said, "I know a lot about art, but I just don't know what I like". This roughly describes my spiritual life up til the time the two kittens joined Phyllis. Now don't think that this is in anyway a reflection on the Trinity. Feathers can be ruffled and feelings hurt when Trinitarian terminology is taken lightly. As you no doubt remember there was quite a dust up regarding the Holy Spirit around 1000 A.D. Was the Holy Spirit descended through the Son or from the Son? Now for these folks the answer to this question determined how you would spend eternity. Today it seems people struggle to find something to do on a rainy afternoon that doesn't bore them. The bloom has gone off the rose of eternity, you might say. As for me the final straw was the sacking of Constantinople in 1203. I am Irish after all and an 800 year grudge is a cinch. Don't just say your sorry about sacking the city. You have to mean it! Now I'm mad all over again.
Simply put, the arrival of the little ones gave me a new dilemma. Phyllis was being raised a Catholic. Her chewing on crucifixes didn't start till the little ones got here. Hold off on judging her just yet while we dissect the situation with regard to Renatta. She dabbled in VooDoo, this much was clear. Youthful indiscretion I later decided. As a Siamese American was she gazing Eastward for guidance? Shintoism seemed like a good fit. Then she began vocalizing intently for no apparent reason, especially in front of closed doors where she was not welcome. Shazam! She was half Unitarian, half Jehovah's witness. She was persistent in the face of a closed door, that explained the Witness in her background. When you opened the door however she had nothing to say, at least nothing that made sense. This was her Unitarian side. Suddenly I understood that scene in The Miracle Worker when Patty Duke quits acting up. Subsequently she is sent back into a tail-spin when her identical cousin shows up. But you already knew that.
Next week Phyllis goes Eucharistic and Rosalie comes along and hopes for an old fashioned all you can eat loaves and fishes buffet!
Woody Allen said, "I know a lot about art, but I just don't know what I like". This roughly describes my spiritual life up til the time the two kittens joined Phyllis. Now don't think that this is in anyway a reflection on the Trinity. Feathers can be ruffled and feelings hurt when Trinitarian terminology is taken lightly. As you no doubt remember there was quite a dust up regarding the Holy Spirit around 1000 A.D. Was the Holy Spirit descended through the Son or from the Son? Now for these folks the answer to this question determined how you would spend eternity. Today it seems people struggle to find something to do on a rainy afternoon that doesn't bore them. The bloom has gone off the rose of eternity, you might say. As for me the final straw was the sacking of Constantinople in 1203. I am Irish after all and an 800 year grudge is a cinch. Don't just say your sorry about sacking the city. You have to mean it! Now I'm mad all over again.
Simply put, the arrival of the little ones gave me a new dilemma. Phyllis was being raised a Catholic. Her chewing on crucifixes didn't start till the little ones got here. Hold off on judging her just yet while we dissect the situation with regard to Renatta. She dabbled in VooDoo, this much was clear. Youthful indiscretion I later decided. As a Siamese American was she gazing Eastward for guidance? Shintoism seemed like a good fit. Then she began vocalizing intently for no apparent reason, especially in front of closed doors where she was not welcome. Shazam! She was half Unitarian, half Jehovah's witness. She was persistent in the face of a closed door, that explained the Witness in her background. When you opened the door however she had nothing to say, at least nothing that made sense. This was her Unitarian side. Suddenly I understood that scene in The Miracle Worker when Patty Duke quits acting up. Subsequently she is sent back into a tail-spin when her identical cousin shows up. But you already knew that.
Next week Phyllis goes Eucharistic and Rosalie comes along and hopes for an old fashioned all you can eat loaves and fishes buffet!
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