Rescued

When I started grocery shopping for Margaret it was summertime. She is an 87 year old, frail lonely woman living with her cat. But I noticed that whenever I came to her porch there were often one or two small cats eyeing me from behind the bushes. Then I noticed that Margaret was feeding these cats and had a very sweet relationship with them. She would call them and they came running to be pet and fed. A couple of them were small and thin but I didn’t think too much about it as they were being taken care of.

Then autumn came and I began to get concerned about what the cats would do once the cold weather arrived. Margaret did not seem bothered as she said there were stray cats around for as long as she lived there and they seem to take care of themselves. But then she told me a story of when there was a pregnant cat and she put out a box for her to have her babies in, When Margaret came out the next morning they had all froze to death.

This story gave me many a sleepless night, especially as the long term forecast was for single digit nighttime temperatures. I made some calls to animal shelters only to find out they were all full. Many places I called didn’t even return my calls. One woman I spoke to said that if I could trap them, she might be able to get them into a spay/neuter clinic. Although I was tempted, I had to decline because of the health threat they would pose my own pets.

Then I called the woman, Maria, who had fostered our cats last year. She has 6 of her own, but provides a foster room and care to strays until they can be medically cleared and are appropriate for adoption. Unfortunately her foster room was also all filled up. 

With images of frozen kittens still keeping me up at night I decided I could at least build them a shelter to stay warm and referred to YouTube, the ultimate authority on such things. There I found a great idea - to build a shelter from a large Coleman cooler - and went in search of one. Strangely they are difficult to find this time of year. (Don’t people still tailgate at football games?) Anyway, I bought the biggest one I could find, cut a hole in its side and filled it with a thick layer of straw as instructed. I brought it over to Margaret’s porch and she was thrilled. As were the kitties who began to use it within 10 minutes of me dropping it off.

But then Maria called me back. She too couldn’t stand the thought of little ones out in arctic
temperatures and offered to come and try to trap them and bring the back to her house. And so last Saturday she drove almost an hour and set out traps with food. There was a lot of tension between Margaret who thought she could just pick up ‘her’ cats and put them in carriers (not) and Maria who just wanted to trap them and get them back to her house. After much brouhaha between the women, two cats (one we thought was the mom) were lured into the traps but then the other two scattered in fear. Maria then offered to come back yet again that evening and try for the other two cats.

At this point Margaret was grumbling that she was losing her babies who depended on her. I was almost in tears thinking that now there were two motherless kittens who were scared to death and out on their own. But Maria generously offered to return that night and we trapped the two remaining cats. It was both traumatic and gratifying at the same time.

Maria sent me a few photos of the kitties, now adapting to her basement. They all had worms and will all be spayed/neutered and vaccinated. I was feeling pretty good about myself. But three days later Margaret called me again to say there was a 5th cat and it was only a baby. Crap. All I could think about was how this one littlest kitten had been all alone for 3 days in the freezing cold having no idea what happened to its family. I was distraught and weepy and once again called Maria. Once again she drive 2 hours round trip. Once again she brought yet another kitten into her home.

Throughout this process I was an emotional mess. I would tear up at the thought of a frightened cat, lose sleep over the dropping night time temperatures and agonize over where the kittens had spent the recent snowstorm. Martha kept (unhelpfully) telling me about all the other little critters who live outside and how there will always be stray and feral cats. “You can’t save them all” she kept saying, which only got me more depressed.

Then a friend reminded me of the story about the boy and the starfish which you’ve probably all heard:

A man was walking on a beach and saw a young boy throwing objects into the ocean. He approached the child and noticed that the young lad was picking up a starfish and gently tossing it back into the ocean.

The man said, “Young man, what are you doing?”

The child replied, “These starfish have drifted up on the shore and they need water to live, so I’m saving their lives by putting them back in the ocean.”

The man said, “You must be kidding me! Look at all these starfish. There must be thousands of them. How in the world can you save them all, and what difference could it possibly make?”

The young boy reached down, picked up a starfish and tossed it into the ocean. He then turned to the man and said, “It made a difference to that one.”


The world is such a mess right now with so much hate and divisive fear mongering. Sometimes it is so overwhelming and I feel powerless to do anything at all, much less make any kind of a dent in it. It can be pretty f*cking depressing.  I’m grateful that my friend reminded me of the starfish story because in the midst of all the meanness and hate, there are 5 little kittens who are safe and warm and fed and, when they are ready, will be placed in forever homes. It doesn’t make an ounce of difference to the world, but it makes a difference to them. It’s all I’ve got right now and it it will have to be enough.

Not all of us can do great things, 

but we can do small things with great love.

 - Mother Teresa

Gutter Cleaning?

Earlier this year we had our house re-sided. As part of that renovation, we also added gutters, something this 60 year old house never had. Then Fall came and a kazillion pine needles filled the gutters. Great. So before the snow flies I went looking around for tools that might make cleaning out the gutters a little easier. I went to the Home Depot site and searched for gutter cleaning tools and found this:

Frequently bought together - a gutter cleaning wand, the coupling to attach it to a power washer and a toilet seat???


I obviously have a lot to learn about gutter cleaning but it no longer matters - we are getting 8” of snow tonight. A new toilet seat will have to wait until Spring.

Full of Grace

Our furnace broke and we will be almost 2 weeks without heat. Not that I am grateful for the broken furnace, nor the expense of replacing it, but I am very grateful for my down comforter keeping me cozy at night and that the temps have stayed above 30 so we don’t have to burn the furniture to keep the pipes from freezing.

Beaner gave me a gift of a macaron making class. The chef made them once, teaching us the steps - and then we ate them. Then we made our own as a group (mine were a mocha filling) and ate those too. I came home on quite the sugar high but such a good time spent with the daughter. I may try making them at home.

Looking for a cheap earring I lost, I found a good earring I had lost months ago under a dresser. Living with cats is always an adventure. Here’s a picture of one of them trying to look innocent.

This year I tried growing sweet potatoes in a container - their foliage makes for quite a lovely plant. Yesterday I dug up these which will be roasted tonight.

And finally this is coming!!!

I encourage everyone to take deep breaths and enjoy all the good stuff in your world of which you are blessed.  May the goddesses be with us on Tuesday.

Dem Bones, Dem Bones

Seven years ago, after a bilateral mastectomy, I started a ten year oral chemo regimen to kill all the estrogen in my body. This is supposed to significantly reduce my chances of a cancer recurrence. Unfortunately, it also greatly increases the rate of bone loss.

In the first year I lost over 10% density in my lumbar spine, 6% in my left hip and the femoral neck T score was went from -.9 to - 1.3 In the subsequent years I was consistently losing at 3% to 4% and had gone from healthy to osteopenia to bordering osteoporosis scores.

All of this freaked me out because I really think bones are important so I started a program for healthier bones - calcium, Vitamin D supplements and lots and lots of time in the gym doing lifting weights. And I am pleased to report that it is finally paying off and density scores are headed in a positive direction.

Lumbar spine +3.5%

Left hip + 1.3 %

Left femoral neck T-score -1.0

However, even with the improvement the left femoral neck was at the absolute lowest limit of normal so I texted Peachie, my exercise science daughter,

Well, it looks like squats (and new pants) are in my future.

Full of Grace

Some fun and amazing things from this week


Beaner’s boyfriend has asked for our blessing for him to ask her to marry him. He would not be my first choice for her but he loves her, that is obvious. So two weddings in one year. Oh boy.

Peachie and her fiance were home for the weekend and we all went out to dinner. Sitting there watching my two grown daughters, settled in their careers and now having found their life partners, all chatting and laughing together, left me with such a good feeling. The kids are definitely all right.

Sunday we all went hiking up north to see the fall foliage. Oh how I do love the changing of the seasons.

Unfortunately my knees told me not to attempt the summit. Instead I settled in quietly next to this little surprise spring and enjoyed the water music.

The mornings are now so dark that when I walk the dog, the stars are still shining.


Young love, the mountains*, the stars, the changing seasons. No matter what craziness is happening in the political world, these beautiful and perfectly magical things remain constant and I am grateful for that.


* Fortunately the Adirondacks are within a State owned park and Trump cannot sell them

Hi, guys

A friend of mine sent me this Twitter thread from a man called Julius Ghost. I don’t have a Twitter account and I’m not sure how to credit him but I thought this was worth sharing.


Julius Ghost @JuliusGoat


Hi, guys. Imagine if one day you got kicked in the nuts, really hard, on purpose.

You doubled over. Felt the pain. Nearly passed out. Nearly puked.

Then you got kicked again. And again.
Imagine it happened to you when you were 12.
Imagine it was an 38 year old woman who did it.
Imagine it was your mother’s friend and business partner.
Imagine you told your parents and they didn’t believe you.
Imagine they never mentioned it again.
You learned to keep quiet about it.
You learned to be scared.
Imagine that later your father explained that women just wanted to kick men in the nuts, so as a boy you had to be careful.

Imagine he had very detailed practical advice on this.

Imagine you started spending your life planning on avoiding being kicked in the nuts.
Imagine you became aware that women, including much older women—even elderly women—were always looking at your nuts. Women on the street would follow you. They’d tell you what a nice package you have. They’d tell you you’d be hot if you just showed off your nuts a little more.
Imagine you started wearing clothes to hide them. You bought uncomfortable protective gear.

All the posters and advertisements in all the magazines featured men’s crotches, though frequently not their heads.

Women’s feet were frequently featured in prominent juxtaposition.
Imagine most of your friends all told you about getting kicked in the nuts.

Imagine none of them had ever told anybody else.

Imagine all the older girls at school would make jokes about kicking you in the nuts.

Imagine all the laughter. The jokes are all so funny.

Jokes.
Imagine you went to church and were told that God made girls to want your body, so you should protect your nuts at all costs.

Imagine the minister said it was your responsibility as a maturing boy not to do anything that would make girls think about kicking you in the nuts.
Imagine you found a girlfriend, and you loved each other.

One night, you were fooling around and she kicked you as hard as she could in the nuts, and it all came rushing back.

Imagine she acted like obviously you wanted to be kicked in the nuts,mocked you for getting emotional.
Imagine you told the police, and they asked you what you’d been wearing before she kicked you in the nuts. Asked if you’d had a drink. Asked what you might have been doing before. Had you been naked? Kissing?

You had.

You left.
Imagine there were laws that said that if a wife kicked her husband in the nuts it wasn’t assault.

Imagine you heard about men with ruptured testicles who had to pay for their own forensic reports

Imagine you saw statistics showing only 1% of kickings resulted in conviction.
Imagine a girl was caught kicking a boy repeatedly in the nuts while he was passed out drunk.

Imagine the judge let her off, because she was worried about the damage to the girl’s future prospects. She was a star swimmer with a scholarship.

Imagine this happened all the time.
Imagine if one day men all started talking about how almost all of them had, at one point or another, been kicked in the nuts.

Imagine if women’s main concern was what false accusation might do to their reputations, and whether this new honesty might ruin the mystery of sex.
Imagine a woman ran for President.

Imagine audio came out of her bragging about making it a regular practice to kick men in the nuts without even introducing herself.

Imagine she lost no support for this.
Imagine she claimed the men accusing her were lying.

Imagine she said they were too ugly to kick.

Imagine there had never been a male president.

Imagine she ran against the first major-party male candidate.

Imagine he had experience, and she had none.

Imagine she won anyway.
Imagine she supported a Senate candidate known for kicking young boys in the testicles.

Imagine she nominated a judge.

Imagine the judge was accused of kicking a boy in the nuts.

Imagine the accuser had to hide from all the death threats as a result.
Imagine the man who had been kicked testified, providing sworn testimony.

Imagine the judge gave an vindictive rant in response.

Imagine he was derided for providing no evidence.

Imagine if they looked for no evidence.

Imagine the judge was given an op-ed to explain herself.
Imagine the President mocked the accuser in font of a crowd, and the crowd laughed and clapped.

Imagine the judge was confirmed.

Imagine the deciding vote was a man.

Can you imagine?
Now imagine that being kicked in the nuts might result in you having to create, in your body, a genetic replication of the person who kicked you.

And imagine that the judge intended to make sure you’d have to carry it.

Imagine that was the *reason* she was chosen.
I can't imagine women's rage today, but this exercise, while abstract, helped me get nearer to it than I'd been.

Be kind to women, guys. Today and every day.


If you see somebody being cruel to women, or abusive, or violent?

Kick 'em in the nuts.



By the way it's 100% insane that this issue seems to require an analogy to draw a sharper focus on how wrong our society presently is, but here were are.

_________________

Turning Around

Last week was the anniversary of my attack. I say “my” but I really mean “our”. Sometimes it is just too painful for me to go down that road. It is a day once overpowering with emotional trauma and now, after much time and therapy, a time of general melancholy. A time of remembering the fear and humiliation of that day but also, now, being grateful for my healing journey.

I did not watch Dr. Ford’s testimony before Congress although it has been next to impossible to avoid the constantly screaming headlines. Last night Trump decided to mock her and I am horrified to see so many people cheering as he ridiculed her. Angry at him. Ashamed for them. Scared for all of us. Is this really what we have become?

Years ago I took the advice of my therapist and decided to go in the direction I wanted to go. In my case it was turning from the pain and humiliation and dehumanizing act of rape toward a place of peace and joy and love. Now it’s time for our country to decide which way it wants to go. This is beyond politics, this is about the very soul of our nation. This is about facing forward and refusing to to be scared backwards. This is about doing the hard work of turning this ship of hatred around.

We are on this sinking ship and unfortunately, we are all on it together. If it goes down, we all go down. Yet there seems to be no talking reason to irrational people. They have no shame. They have no conscience. The only tools we have left are our votes. It is time to toss these rich, white, aging men off the brigg and take back OUR country. We deserve so much more than this.


34 days.