Humans have a life expectancy, and it isn't good.

I have a dear friend with a very smart cat, and he knows it is all about him.

Never mind his owner has been ill, even in the hospital. It is all about him and we come, not to see her, but him in his gorgeousness. He is so outrageous, he makes us all laugh. This is good. And as we laugh, we heal a little. She has 16 drugs. She is getting stronger. Chemo and radiation are coming again.

As I watch Baby Cat, and his attempt to manipulate door knobs and unloose cabinets and look for ways to get food that does not involve humans though he is nice to us...

I think we must be very nice to our pets. They may remember.

A Time to Write, and sometimes a Time to act

I haven't written much lately. I don't expect to write much today, but I am rather long-winded.

I haven't written much because all I seem to be writing lately is eulogies. I did another on Facebook last night. Today I am thinking about Ecclesiastes-- You know--the "time for everything" part.

"A time for tears, and a time to refrain." Well, last night my granddaughters were with me in the car when I got a call. I absolutely knew who was calling and what would be said. My pastor and good friend called, her voice breaking a bit, to tell me a mutual friend had died suddenly. She had to get back to the family.

And I wept. I'm not sure the kids had seen me do that before, because I don't, much.

Then I drove them home, went home, fed the dogs, and started making the calls that need to be made.
The friend's family is huge. I will be putting beans on to soak soon, for the funeral --or rather, memorial-- meal. So now I refrain from crying.

People say, "I had no choice."

They always do.

There is heat of the moment. There is emotional. There are choices. We make them, every day.
I saw a hyperactive 4-year-old keep his behind on a square foot of tile for more than 15 minutes when he was told to sit there and wait till his mother came back. He had made some bad choices. He was noisy in class. He didn't  do what he was told.  Other crimes may have been involved.

I admit, I colluded with his imprisonment by telling him entertaining stories about poor choices and consequences. He didn't really get it, but he admitted he had made bad choices, and earnestly wished to be set free. He would try to make better choices later. I kept pointing out he had the self-control to stay on his assigned slab for a very long time for a four-year-old. So he has that achievement to build on.

Ecclesiastes doesn't say there's a time to squirm in place and a time to run freely again, but hopefully not amok. Perhaps it should.

It might make the jobs of many in law enforcement easier.

To those I would answer if I could

I read blogs frequently that require scrambled letters. etc. to answer. I understand the caution. Unfortunately, my vision nowadays may make my ability to meet your standards impossible.It is rather scary. But sometimes, I just can't do it. And I am still driving.

Homecoming present and a little past.

How long has it been since YOUR high school homecoming?

I thought so.

It has been awhile for me, too.  Some things will never change--the energy, the energy, the energy.

Other things have.  It matters, of course, where your high school is, and when you graduated.

But honey--are you so young you expect the Homecoming mums to be artificial? I guess so the girls  can wear to the football game on Friday night and the dance on Saturday. Fealty is not in the flowers but the ribbons, many, many ribbons, of many patterns and limited shades (there are school colors, after all) that reach to the ankles of the girls so festooned. Apparently the number of ribbons is a factor.

But I saw an  arrangement larger than most wedding bouquets, a couple topped with white teddy bears, some with twink lights.

Exorbitance can include the number of feaux chrysanthemums and the number of ribbons--30 is about average. I saw girls in ripped jeans, hightop sneakers, plaid shortsleeve shirts over faded t shirts, sweep hula skirts of ribbons into  their arms to jog up to the top of the bleachers, then back down for jalepeno nachos and back up again, all without stumbling or dribbling.

The band played throughout, sang and shouted. Oh yeah! I sat next to the drumline. Actually, I loved it. Energy, again.

High school and middle school boys painted to the waist in school colors with their favorite number painted on chest and back. In high school? Well, there's pressure.

I saw more adults than you can imagine in an attractive, but currently not fashionable, shade of blue to support the team. Ball caps, Western hats. sneakers, boots. flats.

I went to watch my granddaughter perform. They did a good marching band performance of "Maleguena" assisted by the flag team.

I was planning to go to the game this week (home) but she tells me it will be the same halftime show  they are perfecting for competition. I swallowed my "b-b-b--"

Times have changed. In my day, we had a new performance every week. In my memory, it was great. It probably couldn't have come close to the performance I heard Friday night.

I loved the spirit, the noise, the expertise of these teens in dance, music, football, cheerleading. Just left me grooving.

But my 1950s self, who was grounded and never made it to senior homecoming, secretly sneers at  an artificial chrysanthemum and so many ribbons to the ankles you can't walk easily.

Don't tell anybody. I'll never tell my granddaughter. But we did it better in my day.

Be an American--Volunteer

The flags along the two main streets in our town look festive flapping and rippling in the breeze. My own flag hangs as it does every day in my front yard.

A sign says "remember the troops." And I thought, that is really a non-sequiter. Yes, we should. No, they aren't related to Sept. 11, 2001. We didn't go into war over that event, not really.

Sometimes I have wondered if part of the motivation for Iraq was the great need to roll out the (gun) barrels and pummel someone, anyone, for what had been done to us. I never wanted that war. But we had it, and I sent books, and hard candies and lip balm, hot sauce and taco seasoning, handi-wipes and kleenex. Christmas cards. So many were and are so young.

We have used these men and women hard, sending them back again and again and again.
We have had a few thousand deaths, but many more coming back without an eye, arms or legs,impaired hearing, with brain injuries and depression.

We have not done nearly enough for these soldiers, these warriors.

Remember the troops. Yes, we should. This is a good day to recommit to one of the best parts of America--reaching out a hand, being good neighbors to soldiers who will come back and look for work. Or will need more help than they are getting to be able to work. They have families and children.

They are not moochers.

This day will reasonate most through the decades of New Yorkers who were there, who lived through it in a way the rest of us could only see on television.

Let us make sure we do enough for those who risked their lives. This is a good day to promise to take care of one another. Better than before. The strength of that is greater each year. Woundedwarrior events. Habitat for Humanity. So many other means to take care of our soldiers, our veterans.

I am willing to look back, for a moment. Then I want to look forward to the future.

That's where the possibilities are.

crashing and burning

Again I have had most of a blog suddenly deleted. No evidence thereof. I've had a diagnostic done and so far, no info on why this is happening. My email and FB freeze, as well. Apparently not malware. I am beginning to think this machine I purchased a year ago has serious hardware/software problems. It is a Lenovo, bought on-line.

I will try again later.

Consensus: Let us spray

I had just tried to hit the post and publish button when my machine froze, dumping the whole thing. I am not convinced all my prose is worth another hour to re-create. This has happened a lot. I don't know if it is the machine or google. I am beginning to long for an electric typewriter again.

I  understand the popularity of these is growing again among professional writers. After all, they can then be scanned into a disc and put on the computer for e transfer or simply copied so the disc can be sent.

My computer can do many things I don't know how to use. To improve that, I am taking a basic computer course this next month to increase my skills. Nevertheless, as I use it, I am constantly reminded of how primitive this system is going to seem in 10 or 20 years.  I wonder how many will be able to catch up? Will this disenfranchise technoklutzes like myself completely?

I suspect not. I hope not.

The blog I lost was simply reflecting, as we all must this election year, on how a simple fact or statement can please so many while displeasing so many others.

I was reflecting because, counter to any wishes I had, my neighborhood  was subjected to aerial spraying  twice in the last three days. Last night, I lay in bed, the dogs snoozing on the floor, and listened as small planes flew low overhead, trailing the aerial spray to kill the culex mosquitoes that carry the West Nile virus. Supposedly we have them here, though we have no known cases.

So many are delighted. I am dismayed.  It seems to me that anything that may make the ecology less effective is not a good thing. But then, at this point, I am a genuine tree hugger.  Yes, I will use use the organic killers for fire ant mounds. I stomp on cockroaches. I flush scorpions in the house. Otherwise, I don't mess much.

I kept the dogs in till the sun was well up--the insecticide is supposed to break down in sunlight. I changed their outside water dish when I let them out, just in case. They had a fine romp and seem none the worse for any residue on the grass.

The  one thing I can do is put up a purple martin house in the back yard, as I have been talking about. I can keep drainage monitored in my area. Use DEET when mosquitoes are out. I can do those things. I can't stop the spraying.

The purple martin house will have to do.