We buried our cat today. She was the last of the family's pets; now that the kids are out and either in college or out in the world, we decided not to get another cat when our first one passed away a few years ago - we were just going to let this one go when she went, and that would be it for a while.
A week ago last Thursday, she climbed out of her cat bed, lay down on the floor, and just went. There was really no indication she was sick or that close to the end. I patted her head, told her goodbye, and wrapped her up in her favorite blanket, and we put her in the freezer (I know, but we wanted everyone to come home to say goodbye - and this is an unused freezer, still running from when the kids were little and we needed lots of food in the place).
Today, I spent half the afternoon digging a hole - yes, it took 2 hours, because of the heat and because, where I live, you get down 4 inches and it's hard slate-like rock. I have a tamping bar with a sharp end on it, and I was just banging away at the rock. I finally got the hole deep enough, and, when everyone was home, we said good-bye.
We talked about how nuts the cat was - and she was that. She had to be where the people were, and would spend most of her time on or near someone. She had to have someone stand near her when eating, and would often cry for someone to walk over to watch her eat. If you made a move anywhere toward her bowl, she would be underfoot the whole way to make sure she got a few seconds of a person nearby while she ate a little food.
She would also get into weird moods and just sit in one place for days - only leaving that one place for food and other necessities. Often, these places were very strange - like one small shelf on the stairs leading down to the basement that barely fit her. She would not budge for a month, and then something would make her stop and come join everyone else. All cats are nuts in one way or another - ours got something extra when God was handing out the feline nuttiness.
After talking about her for a while, I did the deed - covered her box up with dirt, and laid a sturdy board over the top partway through - then more dirt and rocks. We have to worry about dogs in this area, and they do dig up everything. My secret weapon in this case was her coffin - a used ammo can, well-perforated so nature could take its course (and the next owners of the house would not get a weird and unpleasant surprise if they ever came across it). No dog is going to be able to do anything to our kitty.
We turned around to go in, since we came out just after a thunderstorm, and it was threatening to start up again, and there before us was a complete rainbow - laid out across the sky. Someone mentioned that there's a story going around the Intarw3bz about rainbows and how they are bridges to heaven for pets. Kinda corny, but it was nice to see a symbol of hope just at that moment, just as we were feeling lost without our insane little friend who had been a part of the family for 12 years. That's when a couple of them broke down - and we just stood there, in the gathering rain, saying goodbye, each in our own ways.
After a few minutes, it really was time to go in, and everyone started walking. I had a few things to gather up, and I cleaned up the spot a little, picked up the tools, and headed over to the garage to put them away. Everyone else was in already, and, as I looked up in the sky, the rainbow had gone. She just made it - last bridge to heaven for a little while. The rain was a good excuse for wiping my eyes as I walked back inside to my slightly smaller, somewhat quieter family.
Saturday, August 25, 2007
Friday, August 24, 2007
Heretical Goodness
I loves me a martini.
Now, I don't subscribe to the belief that there is only one way to make a martini - furthermore, I firmly believe that a vodka martini is a) ok and b) still a martini.
To further this theme of heresy, my absolute favorite martini is a dirty vodka martini.
Why? It's simple. More olivy goodness. Not only do you get olives in a dirty vodka, you also get the olive juice - that's what makes it dirty. The olive juice clouds the vodka, and adds just that right hint of vinegar and olive flavor.
I just crush an ice cube, throw it in a glass, dump some vodka in there, a little juice, and three olives. The ice really just cools the whole thing off, and, if I were allowed, I'd keep the bottle in the freezer and dispense with the ice altogether.
I'm having one right now.
I've never had a gin martini, actually. I may have to some day. If it doesn't come with olives, though, it'll be a hard sell.
Now, I don't subscribe to the belief that there is only one way to make a martini - furthermore, I firmly believe that a vodka martini is a) ok and b) still a martini.
To further this theme of heresy, my absolute favorite martini is a dirty vodka martini.
Why? It's simple. More olivy goodness. Not only do you get olives in a dirty vodka, you also get the olive juice - that's what makes it dirty. The olive juice clouds the vodka, and adds just that right hint of vinegar and olive flavor.
I just crush an ice cube, throw it in a glass, dump some vodka in there, a little juice, and three olives. The ice really just cools the whole thing off, and, if I were allowed, I'd keep the bottle in the freezer and dispense with the ice altogether.
I'm having one right now.
I've never had a gin martini, actually. I may have to some day. If it doesn't come with olives, though, it'll be a hard sell.
Look, I'm sharing already....
So, some stuff about me....
I am fluent in Scottish Gaelic. It's more than learning a language, for me. Seven generations ago, my folks came from Scotland when most of the Gaels were getting kicked/thrown/burned out of their homes by their own relations so that the land could be used to raise sheep. Learning this language to fluency has changed me a lot more than I thought it would. It changed how I think, how I form sentences, and how I look at the world. It's also made me realize how much of it all is in the blood. I've heard some pompous asses try to say that this idea is ridiculous - you can't convey language or experiences through bloodlines. These people also don't know how to dream, or imagine. Screw 'em.
Anyway, I look at my fluency and immersion in the culture of the Gaels as a way of reclaiming what my family used to have as my own again. It's really now so much a part of me that I couldn't lose it unless I made a concerted effort to divest myself of it all. When I'm musing, or rambling to myself in my head, I'm just as likely to do it in Gaelic as English. When I yell at stoopid drivers on the road, I'll just as likely use invectives in Gaelic.
So that's where the nametag comes from (a Gaelic word for "exile"), and that's what I mean by "separated by birth". But for where I was born, I could have been a little Scottish kid growing up over on the other side of the pond - or I could have been born right in the Gaidhealtachd. Even though I wasn't, I'm still there in spirit, and I connect with the people whose ancestors knew my ancestors. They are good people, the Gaels. It's about as good as it'll get for me - and it's enough.
You'll therefore see some posts here in Gaelic, and some ramblings about nice phrases that apply to our world today, coming from the Gaelic world. Heck, you all might even pick up some words/phrases, and be the more erudite for it. You will never see stuff like "pòg mo thòin" or any pseudo-celtic crap. The Gaels are not a stereotype any more than you are, and should not be romanticized.
No Riverdancetm! No Rabie Burns idolatry! And no damned sheep jokes!
Tioraidh an dràsda, y'all.
I am fluent in Scottish Gaelic. It's more than learning a language, for me. Seven generations ago, my folks came from Scotland when most of the Gaels were getting kicked/thrown/burned out of their homes by their own relations so that the land could be used to raise sheep. Learning this language to fluency has changed me a lot more than I thought it would. It changed how I think, how I form sentences, and how I look at the world. It's also made me realize how much of it all is in the blood. I've heard some pompous asses try to say that this idea is ridiculous - you can't convey language or experiences through bloodlines. These people also don't know how to dream, or imagine. Screw 'em.
Anyway, I look at my fluency and immersion in the culture of the Gaels as a way of reclaiming what my family used to have as my own again. It's really now so much a part of me that I couldn't lose it unless I made a concerted effort to divest myself of it all. When I'm musing, or rambling to myself in my head, I'm just as likely to do it in Gaelic as English. When I yell at stoopid drivers on the road, I'll just as likely use invectives in Gaelic.
So that's where the nametag comes from (a Gaelic word for "exile"), and that's what I mean by "separated by birth". But for where I was born, I could have been a little Scottish kid growing up over on the other side of the pond - or I could have been born right in the Gaidhealtachd. Even though I wasn't, I'm still there in spirit, and I connect with the people whose ancestors knew my ancestors. They are good people, the Gaels. It's about as good as it'll get for me - and it's enough.
You'll therefore see some posts here in Gaelic, and some ramblings about nice phrases that apply to our world today, coming from the Gaelic world. Heck, you all might even pick up some words/phrases, and be the more erudite for it. You will never see stuff like "pòg mo thòin" or any pseudo-celtic crap. The Gaels are not a stereotype any more than you are, and should not be romanticized.
No Riverdancetm! No Rabie Burns idolatry! And no damned sheep jokes!
Tioraidh an dràsda, y'all.
Spam as a source of humor
I have a spam blocker at work, and recently I've had to ask them to turn it off and pass me all the trapped email, spam or not. Why? Even the best spam filter traps stuff it shouldn't, and I'd rather look through it myself to find some email from the UK or from a confirmation engine that I want to see than try to make the filter better by picking through the whitelist to make sure I get everything I want.
This has the added bonus of some entertainment from the really, really feeble attempts at trying to get past the filters. My favorite at the moment is a form email, that works like the mad-libs from our youth - you fill in a word for each part below that's in bold:
-Noun for "women"- always -verb for "laughed"- at me and even -noun for "men"- did in the -adjective for "public"- -noun for "toilets"-!
Well, now I -verb for "laugh"- at them, because I took Me_ga. d_ik.
for 3 months and now my -noun for "penis"- is -adverb- -comparative adjective for "size"- than -noun for "average"-.
-imperative for "go to"- http://drug-company.com/
So, you could put words in the spaces, if you were boring or, say, literate in English, and form an ad like:
Women always laughed at me and even men did in the public urinals. Well, now I laugh at them because I took "megadick" (hee hee - megadick!) for 3 months and now my (ahem) is much bigger than average. Go to blah blah blah.
OK. So. What you see in these ads is stuff like:
Baronesses always whooped at me and even chaps did in the public WC!
Well, now I hee-haw at them, because I took Me_ga. d_ik.
for 3 months and now my phallus is hugely largest than federal.
go shopping blah blah blah...
Hugely largest than federal? hahahaha!
Some choice words for a few of the fill-in-the-blanks:
Women: baronesses (baronesses?) , dames, babes, womens, boytoys (ok, they really don't get that one), dolls, princesses
Public: civil, federal, free
Laugh (my favorite): smile, whizgiggle, hee-haw, whoop, shriek (sic)
Penis: the usual words.
I don't know if they are trying to word-substitute their way past the filters, or make you think it's from someone else, or what. Just too funny.
Now that's going to make me run right over there and buy some of what they got. Nothing says "quality product" like broken, bastardized English.
This has the added bonus of some entertainment from the really, really feeble attempts at trying to get past the filters. My favorite at the moment is a form email, that works like the mad-libs from our youth - you fill in a word for each part below that's in bold:
-Noun for "women"- always -verb for "laughed"- at me and even -noun for "men"- did in the -adjective for "public"- -noun for "toilets"-!
Well, now I -verb for "laugh"- at them, because I took Me_ga. d_ik.
for 3 months and now my -noun for "penis"- is -adverb- -comparative adjective for "size"- than -noun for "average"-.
-imperative for "go to"- http://drug-company.com/
So, you could put words in the spaces, if you were boring or, say, literate in English, and form an ad like:
Women always laughed at me and even men did in the public urinals. Well, now I laugh at them because I took "megadick" (hee hee - megadick!) for 3 months and now my (ahem) is much bigger than average. Go to blah blah blah.
OK. So. What you see in these ads is stuff like:
Baronesses always whooped at me and even chaps did in the public WC!
Well, now I hee-haw at them, because I took Me_ga. d_ik.
for 3 months and now my phallus is hugely largest than federal.
go shopping blah blah blah...
Hugely largest than federal? hahahaha!
Some choice words for a few of the fill-in-the-blanks:
Women: baronesses (baronesses?) , dames, babes, womens, boytoys (ok, they really don't get that one), dolls, princesses
Public: civil, federal, free
Laugh (my favorite): smile, whizgiggle, hee-haw, whoop, shriek (sic)
Penis: the usual words.
I don't know if they are trying to word-substitute their way past the filters, or make you think it's from someone else, or what. Just too funny.
Now that's going to make me run right over there and buy some of what they got. Nothing says "quality product" like broken, bastardized English.
All new and stuff
Like I have time for this....
Anyway, not that I expect many people to look at the stuff I think about, or anything, but this blog may entertain someone.
So, under the "obsessive consumerism" label:
1. New crackberry! Lurve it! So much better than the microShaft pda phone I had. It's buzzing on my hip as I type!
2. Mercedes 560SL - I may post a picture soon. It's waiting for a new key because the owner, um, lost them. Just before we went to pick up the car. It's been over a week, but tonight, we gets it.
3. SW1911. That's all I'm sayin'. Just awesome.
That may tell y'all something about me - but there's so much more - so much. What the hell does "eilthrireach" mean? What's with the title?
These and other fascinating fact to come. Really. I can hear the excitement, the murmers, the....crickets?
Anyway, not that I expect many people to look at the stuff I think about, or anything, but this blog may entertain someone.
So, under the "obsessive consumerism" label:
1. New crackberry! Lurve it! So much better than the microShaft pda phone I had. It's buzzing on my hip as I type!
2. Mercedes 560SL - I may post a picture soon. It's waiting for a new key because the owner, um, lost them. Just before we went to pick up the car. It's been over a week, but tonight, we gets it.
3. SW1911. That's all I'm sayin'. Just awesome.
That may tell y'all something about me - but there's so much more - so much. What the hell does "eilthrireach" mean? What's with the title?
These and other fascinating fact to come. Really. I can hear the excitement, the murmers, the....crickets?
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