One orange furball

This is my girl Josie the cat, she came from Spotsylvania, VA.  She is one colorful girl; has spots in the most unexpected places.  I've always said the maker spent extra time on her:  one extra naughty cat + 2 parts orange coloring + 1 part black + 1 part white, all put together in a gentle cycle. 

My father the photographer snapped more than fifty pictures like this one of Josie the cat.

A smiling Josie.  She is so accommodating, she lets us jam the camera right in her face.

Yes bring on the lighting blitz you papparazzi.

The naughty girl has no fear.  She was sitting on a lamp three stories high.  Freaks us out.

Jackie

Beeping Pager says: "NO POWER!"

Until a few months ago, I was working in a semiconductors manufacturing company as an engineer. It was a very stressful workplace because every little decision involves a whole lot of money. The cost of running such an operation is staggeringly high, while profit margin is actually rather small, so it is a real cut throat kind of place. Anyway, one of the biggest catastrophe in such a facility is the event of a little electrical interruption, even a few seconds of lost power can cause massive panic, millions of dollars lost, and a beepers hailstorm in the middle of the night.

So power outage is never fun while I was employed there. But one day in the summer when it was very hot, and I just got back from work and my face was stuck in the freezer, I got a phone call from my father up in Canada. He informed me they did not have power for the entire day.

"Oh it is a good thing I tell ya." He said,

"Come again?" I replied,

"We get to hang out with our neighbors! We all had to clear out our fridges, so we had a picnic on the street." He said. And then he attacked me with a question, "Do you talk to your neighbors?"

"Oh dad, I don't have time for neighbors." I said, also thinking I didn't have time for this conversation either.

So that was more than two years ago. But it got me thinking one day, until we figure out how to live in a sane way, perhaps we can ALL use a power outage everyday?

Armed with a new set of principles which must include interaction with those living in close proximity to us, My Harry and I came up with a better idea: We walk our cats every night. Yes, we committed ourselves and made promises to our feline friends to take them out so they can roam around in flower beds and climb trees. We treat them like adult cats that they are, and in doing so, we gain a certain distinction among our neighbors.

"My God, that's a cat on a leash! How did you do that? My cat would never walk like that! Oh my, you are not even holding onto that leash? Aren't you afraid they run into the road? What if they won't come down from the tree? Do you mind if I take a picture with my cell?"

I get these questions ALL the time now. And I answer very slowly, because what I've got to say is always a shock for people to hear. It helps that I am with the friendliest kitty in the world, especially towards children. She fluffs up, flops over, and lifts her leg. That's her signature move. And I get to pretend nag, "Jo--sie...come now...be a lady, do ladies lift their legs like that?" And a really cool conversation always follows.

And when there are no human neighbors to be had, I observe my kitties, and see that they too are making friends by being out at night.

Jackie

Lyrics in a Song

Yesterday I drove out to a park to catch the fall colors by myself and while I was on the road I heard a NPR show that really caught my attention. It was an interview of Stephen Sondhien, the lyrics writer who wrote those famous songs in Sweeney Todd, Gypsy, and West Side Story. Remember this gangster's song from West Side Story?

(sings)

When you're a Jet,

You're a Jet all the way

From your first cigarette

To your last dyin' day.

When you're a Jet,

If the spit hits the fan,

You got brothers around,

You're a family man!

You're never alone,

You're never disconnected!

You're home with your own:

When company's expected,

You're well protected!

Then you are set

With a capital J,

Which you'll never forget

Till they cart you away.

When you're a Jet,

You stay a Jet!

- by Stephen Sondheim

Brilliant huh! Well, this is masterful I think. I need to write some lyrics too, for a song. And it is sang by a little boy who learned it from other little boys sung to impress little boys in general. It is a hunter's song. I want it to be a timeless one, non-period specific. I couldn't sleep last night, and this was what I come up with:

(sings)

Oh, the mornin' is sunny and gay

Time to leave home with our gears

I feel like we'll be winners today

when we hunt those far and near

Why you do not think so you say

Too long we wait for a deer

Bet you are wrong and you will pay

Hidden they prick 'em pointy ears

In time young ones come out to play

Too soon they forget their fears

Their mom is busy to chase them away

She watch not her exposed rear

The moment has come to shoot hooray!

Her scream rings loud and clear

You've lost a bet, come see where she lay

She's dead you owe me a beer

- by moi

This is what I've got so far. It's fun ain't it!

Jackie

Reading 'To Kill a Mockingbird' out loud

I’ve read To Kill a Mockingbird by Harper Lee back in junior high school like everyone I know who is remotely close to my age. I attended junior high in Canada, and it seems to me this is the one thing in common between the US and Canadian education systems; both require reading a combination of Shakespeare’s plays, and must read To Kill a Mockingbird. I remember the book rather well since reading it the first time. I know the plot and at anytime I could give ample descriptions and comments on the main characters. I did like it a lot.

I remember Atticus Finch the most of course. Thinking back, I believe his character permanently instill in me a certain romantic affection for lawyers that no nasty ambulance chasing can completely wipe out. But besides his fine lawyering, I always thought of him as the model of a father, a perfect example of a man: mature, kind, and slightly remote.

Recently I have been thinking a great deal on how we should spend our time as a family. I will elaborate more on this later on, but as part of a grand experiment/commitment, I decided about a month ago to read this timeless book again, aloud, to my husband, who does not appreciate literature one bit. My husband is Israeli, and he never even heard of this book, so he resisted quite a bit until I managed to wear him down à la Princess Bride grandfather style.

I was surprised by how different it is to read the story as an adult. Even though I knew the plot, I now realize I didn’t understand it back then. I remember I was feeling like Jem, I got angry at the outcome of the Maycomb trial, but I had no interest in seeing the other characters’ point of view as urged on so exquisitely by Atticus. "You never really understand a person until you climb into his skin and walk around in it." I actually missed the point.

First time around I saw Atticus as a child sees a father. But this time, at the age of a parent, I wonder if I could be like him. “The one thing that doesn’t abide by majority rule is a person’s conscience.” How difficult is it to live by that in real life? I think it still costs quite a bit today, but I have a suspicion that it is getting easier in this country, that however bad things may look, the underlying morals of the country lumbers towards the good.

My husband said, “I like how Atticus gets you to think, and the children makes you feel, so it really hits home.” Think and feel. My husband is not very good with words, but I think he was quite articulate with this one. He simpered as I read with a pseudo southern accent, especially the parts with the children, and he looked consciously at me when little boy Dill makes up a long dreamy story about a magic island where babies are collected like flower, I think we each silently thought of being parents then.

So that was how we spend out nights together for weeks and weeks, and in the end, I think we got a little closer for it. But we’ll see.

Jackie