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Over the years, they came in many shapes and sizes.  Some were skinny, some were fat.  Some were long and some were short.  A few were hand picked, but mostly they found their own way to our house.  Their names varied through the years.  The first was 
Phyllis, although Phyllis started out as Phil.  A few weeks into his/her arrival, the folks figured out he was a she.  She was a gift to my oldest sister, Lela, but it was not too long before she became mine.  My cat, my very first cat.  

Then there were Toms, Tommies and Tommy Boys, two Pussycats, Effingham, Bishop, Harrison and Hamilton, Mitten, Max and many Tiggers.  My good friend has made fun of me for having so many cats with the same name, but sometimes it's just the name that fits.

Max showed up the summer after Mother decided to cross over to the other side.  He was no bigger than the palm of my hand.  Due to allergies, all cats had to be outdoor cats and Max was my constant outdoor companion for four years.  One day I went out in the morning to greet him.  A dead squirrel was laying in the yard, the third in almost as many days. Max was hard on the squirrels, he caught them and brought them home for the older male, Tommyboy and Tommyboy would eat them.  But on this day, Max was nowhere to be seen.  Nearly four months later, he was found about four miles out in the country.  I went to get him and although he greeted me with the same familiarity, when I picked him up, he hissed.  I knew then that whatever had happened to him on his journey to this place was not kind.  I made the decision to leave him.  He had a new home, with new people who loved him and he was happy.  Max is 10 years old this year.

Then there's Tigger.  The last Tigger of many.  He too, came uninvited and unwanted by the reigning queen cat of the yard.  She did everything except devour him to try to make him leave, but he somehow held his ground.  When the queen passed on to the place where queen cats go, Tigger was left as sole commander of the yard.

Tigger stayed behind when we made the journey to the rolling hills of the Carolinas.  He had never been a house cat and to turn him loose on the edge of a booming metropolis would have been nothing short of cruel.  Our youngest was staying at the house, so I knew he would be cared for.  

Time moves on and things happen.  The house was empty, again.  I made the decision to have Tigger, this giant, yellow, slobbering ball of fur moved to the country.  This decision alone was one of the hardest I have faced in the last couple of years.  I know, eye rolls, but I have great compassion for animals of all kinds, especially cats.  The yard was the only home he had known and like his predecessor, he rarely left its borders.  

He made the journey to the country and exited the kennel like a bolt of lightening, hiding under the steps that went to the back door.  The next day was Easter and the weather was just about as unpleasant as it could have been.  It rained, sleeted, iced and snowed....along with the wind blowing at breakneck speeds.....and Tigger was gone.

It's hard to put into words how I felt during this time.  I cried a river over this cat.  I would wake in the middle of the night and tell him to go back and then I would cry again.  I would tell him to go south and to not cross the highway.  I cried, a lot.  It finally got to the point where I couldn't even mention the whole thing for fear of blubbering about this cat.  

Sixteen days later, I received a video chat with our daughter who had taken Tigger.  As I walked into view and asked how she was, she replied, "Oh fine.", and turned the camera around to put her youngest son into view.  There he was, our second grandson and in his arms was a giant, yellow, slobbering ball of fur.  Tigger!

Tigger had gone south.  He did not cross the highway, but found a family that knew he was missing and they returned him to his new home.  It took him sixteen days to go a mile and I can only imagine what his journey exposed him to.   At least my visions of him being a coyote's supper are now laid to rest and he seems to understand that this new place is home.

Down The Rabbit Hole #4 Weathered Weather

Welcome to another episode of Down the Rabbit Hole.  This month's topic is about the weather, or rather, messing with the weather. 

Messing with the weather does not mean going out in the yard and cursing the sky after the fifth day of constant rain.  Messing with the weather is now referred to as weather modification.

The conspiracy theorist have been talking about this for years.  Unfortunately, it is no longer a theory, but may need to stay under the conspiracy heading.  

A simple search on the internet under the title of weather manipulation or modification will bring up more information than thought possible.  In fact, it is rather unnerving and can make one wonder why they bother to tune in for the late night weather report.

Let's say there is a particular part of the country that needs rain.  It hasn't rained in this place for a long time and the experts in reading the weather signs tell us that it does not look like it will rain any time soon.  People gather in prayer and people hold ceremonies and conduct rain dances but, still no rain.  What to do?  Bring in the cloud seeders.

Seeding clouds is the process of putting chemicals into clouds to make them produce rain.  Silver iodide is one of these chemicals.  When it is put into an already formed cloud in the sky, it can increase the amount of moisture in the cloud and therefore, make it rain.  This seeding can be done by either shooting the chemical from the ground, or flying above and dropping it into the cloud.

This has been going on for quite some time.  From the mid 60's to the 80's, the USA was looking into hurricane modification.  The following tidbit of information comes directly from an article that can be found at www.now.northopgrumman.com: "The reasons for modifying weather vary, depending on where the operation takes place.  Russia has removed cloud cover for a national holiday, while India has focused on encouraging rain to fall in drought conditions.  China made headlines when authorities said they had cleared the skies by shooting salt-filled bullets into clouds ahead of the 2008 Beijing Olympics.  Then, in 2016, the Chinese government announced it had allocated 199 million yuan ($29.76 million) to spend on its weather modification program to combat drought and reduce the impact of natural disasters."  It's even possible to make fresh snow for the ski slopes.

Humans have the most undesirable quirk when it comes to using technology against other humans.   The United Nations has banned using the weather as a weapon.  This fact alone, means it has either been used in the past or is being considered for the future.  

Of all of my "outside of the box" theories, this is my least favorite.  I do not think we should be messing around with nature.  What happens when the manipulated weather does its job in one place but then moves on to reek havoc somewhere it is not needed?  I wonder too, what did the people of Texas think as they watched Hurricane Harvey make landfall...... and then intensify?

I'd Like To...

The man in the center of the waiting room talked non-stop.  He did not seem to care that perhaps not everyone wanted to listen to his preaching.  One daughter left the area for a brief moment and when she returned, she had taken stock of the situation.  Her solution was that if his audience would not be so enthralled, he might actually shut up.  We giggled and settled back into the uncomfortable chairs.

We had been given a device to hold while we waited.  It looked like one of those gadgets that some restaurants will give out while waiting for a table.  When the table is ready, the device vibrates or blinks red lights, or both.  

The waiting room was very large and full of people holding similar devices.  The guess was everyone was waiting for someone who was there for the same procedure.  Some people stared silently into their phones while others just stared silently.  The three of us, two daughters and myself, have a very hard time sitting silently.  When the talker in the middle of the room gave out one more 'hallelujah", we nearly ended up in a heap on the floor.  Even the lady, who sat across from us, trying to mind her own business, ended up giggling to herself.  It was good that the girls where there.  Although the procedure was expected to be fine, it was comforting to have their support.

They taught me how to play sudoku, which was a riot in itself.  Since I have mastered the easy puzzles and moved on to the next level, I think it is a stupid game.  We read, we laughed, like idiots and we squirmed in the uncomfortable chairs.  When the gadget lit up and vibrated, I jumped up and announced that the pizza was ready.  More laughter.  Then I stood there, helplessly looking around for the next move.

Hospital and clinic settings are not much fun and the feeling of being herded like cattle came to mind more than once.  It is true the health care industry, key word industry, needs a lot of tweaking.  Not to mention the mountains of instructions and descriptions that arrives with insurance and billings.  Sometimes it feels like there needs to be an interpreter to put it all into laymen terms. 

Someone finally shouts out my last name.  I respond and they tell me they will open the door so I can go to the post procedure area.  I relay to them that the door is already open, they tell me to go ahead.  All this technology and we were yelling back and forth across the large full waiting area.

Only two people were allowed back at one time.  The nurse thanked us more than once for being there.  I mentioned that the instructions prior to this procedure stated someone had to be in the waiting room, the entire time.  She thanked me again for taking the time to read the instructions and then told us that many people leave.  How sad.

We found him, my husband, their father, in rare form and all was well.  I'd like to share with you some of the post procedure hysterics but, I have to live with him. 

Karma

There is a lot of talk about Karma.  Karma is the angel who simply gives back what a person has given.  Many people refer to Karma as getting even or revenge, but that really isn't the way Karma works.  It has no feelings or emotions whatsoever when it comes to the task at hand.  Its rules are simple and easy to follow.  For those who like to live under the Angel of Karma, you get what you give, you reap what you sow, regardless if it is good or bad.

Personally, I would rather live under the Angel of Grace, but, being human, I tend to forget that is where I want or need to be.  Sometimes I just get snarky.  I get snarky about things that are really not that important, but I let them bother me.  

One of my main snark attacks comes when folks do not respect the community or common areas.  This means places like parking lots, sidewalks and stairwells that are used by more than one family, to name a few.  It also raises its ugly head when someone lets their dog do its business two feet from the doggiedoo station, complete with bags and a basket for the waste, and will not take the time to pick it up.  Then there are the ones who feel like the parking lot is the place to clean out their automobile, even though there is a dumpster within a short walking distance in each lot.

Yessirree, these things make me snarky and I get the feeling I would like to teach a few people about common decency and respect.  What I don't realize is that when snarkiness is in charge, the Angel of Grace has folded up its wings, taken a step back and allowed Karma to enter in all its glory.

This was most evident as I headed out to the dumpster with a stack of boxes, one of which had contained boneless chicken wings and a few  half full containers of dipping sauce.  

My recent snark had been about the stairwell.  There are four families who use it and to find cigarette  butts crushed on the steps was nearly the breaking point.  For heaven's sake, everyone is already knee deep in pollen, we don't need to track in ashes and what is left of burnt tobacco.  

So, there I am, perched on the top step, headed down.  By the time I took two steps, the boxes turned into a juggling act.  Mid way through the third step, I lost control and all my boxes went bounding down the stairs without me.  As I made my way down and started gathering the boxes, I made a most enlightening discovery....There was dipping sauce, of all flavors and consistency, on every step!  After retrieving some paper towels and water, I finally got it cleaned up and I'm pretty sure I heard the fluttering of big wings leave this common area when I was finished.   

The obvious lesson to this would be to lead by example.  If I want the stairwell to be kept clean and clear, then maybe it would work better if the other tenants saw me cleaning it.....without griping about it.  I don't know if it will work, but I will give it a try.  In the meantime though, Runtly is a constant reminder of my fau pax and judgmental attitude.  His nose knows where all the sauce landed and getting him down the steps takes forever.  

Just Because

The dictionary app gives the definition of knowledge as: acquaintance with facts, truths, or principles, as from study or investigation...Knowledge is a powerful tool.  It can save us, heal us, protect us....kill us.  

Knowledge is probably more attainable today than it ever has been in the last few thousand years.  Its quest literally sits at the ends of fingertips that hover above a keyboard.  It is available and for the most part free, to anyone who is in need of more information, regardless of the subject matter.

Knowledge can be gathered by reading or being shown how to do some particular task.  YouTube is a phenomenal place to learn just about anything that is of interest to a person.  For instance, I now know that in order to take the headlight lens out of the car, the entire front bumper must be removed from the vehicle.  More than I wanted to deal with, but at least I know how it's done.

There are times when a super knowledgeable person can have all that data backfire on them.  This usually happens when others are not impressed with the constant spew of factual facts and the title of know-it-all comes into play.  But, know-it-alls are usually too busy being full of knowledge to notice their audience has left the building.

Then there are times when the knowledge needs to be kept to oneself.  Times like this occur when the knowledge becomes hurtful to others.  Examples of this could be telling someone their child is overweight, letting someone know their hairstyle looks terrible, or pointing out other obvious facts.  Most people have their own inner knowledge, when it comes to things like this and most do not appreciate being chosen as the recipient of someone who thinks stating the facts is the thing to do.

Sharing knowledge without kindness is mean.  So, just because your knowledge may be true, does not necessitate it coming out of your mouth....and knowing this leads to wisdom.