They are called by different names in different parts of the country. Some call them gum bands, some call them rubber bands.
I had no idea how invaluable they are.
For several decades I have lived without human companionship. It’s probably not natural – we are a social species – but with cats and friends, books and wine, it’s not all that bad.
Except.
Except that in the interest of protecting me from some unnamed evil, so many things are so incredibly difficult to open.
What do you do when you have a cold and can’t open the medicine? Die? Well no. You just keep working at – swearing at it – until, finally, when you are almost healthy, it opens.
No more.
Recently, a good friend suggested that I wrap recalcitrant lids with a rubber/gum band. Voila! Things open. Even the baby food jars that I now must open to feed my still ailing (but better) cat.
Who knew? But thank heavens.
My cat and I are grateful.
[And I can continue to thrive on my own.]
Thursday, January 7, 2016
Sunday, January 3, 2016
Just a Cat
He’s just a cat -- a used cat at that.
He was a year old when I adopted him from the local humane society in November 2002.
I don’t know anything about his history. I think they give people some information – whether a cat was rescued from homelessness or an evil family. If they did give me a rap sheet, I didn’t read it. I picked him out because he seemed the most interesting, the most interested in what was going on, in me. He seemed playful but not vicious.
The humane society named him Guinness, a name I kept. His coloring, including the white ‘foam’ on his chin, closely resembled that venerable beverage. After I accumulated some necessary cat supplies and came back to pick him up, I was persuaded to adopt a second cat, Herbie. I kept that name too although there seemed no reason for it. Later, after I came to know him, it became apparent that he was ‘Herbie, the Love Cat’ – as friendly and affectionate as any cat I have ever known.
Guinness on the other hand is a neurotic, non-sociable animal who has loved only me. And I think I’m the only one who has ever loved him. One of the things about him that delights me is the way he is always making up games. He ‘fetches’ little cloth balls. When I toss them up my stairs, he bats them back. We’ll play this form of catch almost every evening. He is such a good buddy. Always supervising whatever I do. And, although he’s no love cat, he does snuggle extremely well – when I’m reading or working at the computer or trying to sleep.
So when he became so obviously sick on Dec. 29, I took him in to the vets. He was so weak, he could hardly lift his head. We’ve been back to the vet on the 30th, and 31st and 2nd. We will go back tomorrow morning. He’s a little better, moving more, supervising me more. I still can’t get him to eat his regular food but at least he’s eating.
He’s been my good buddy for 13 years.
Keep your fingers crossed.
He was a year old when I adopted him from the local humane society in November 2002.
I don’t know anything about his history. I think they give people some information – whether a cat was rescued from homelessness or an evil family. If they did give me a rap sheet, I didn’t read it. I picked him out because he seemed the most interesting, the most interested in what was going on, in me. He seemed playful but not vicious.
The humane society named him Guinness, a name I kept. His coloring, including the white ‘foam’ on his chin, closely resembled that venerable beverage. After I accumulated some necessary cat supplies and came back to pick him up, I was persuaded to adopt a second cat, Herbie. I kept that name too although there seemed no reason for it. Later, after I came to know him, it became apparent that he was ‘Herbie, the Love Cat’ – as friendly and affectionate as any cat I have ever known.
Guinness on the other hand is a neurotic, non-sociable animal who has loved only me. And I think I’m the only one who has ever loved him. One of the things about him that delights me is the way he is always making up games. He ‘fetches’ little cloth balls. When I toss them up my stairs, he bats them back. We’ll play this form of catch almost every evening. He is such a good buddy. Always supervising whatever I do. And, although he’s no love cat, he does snuggle extremely well – when I’m reading or working at the computer or trying to sleep.
So when he became so obviously sick on Dec. 29, I took him in to the vets. He was so weak, he could hardly lift his head. We’ve been back to the vet on the 30th, and 31st and 2nd. We will go back tomorrow morning. He’s a little better, moving more, supervising me more. I still can’t get him to eat his regular food but at least he’s eating.
He’s been my good buddy for 13 years.
Monday, December 21, 2015
Christmas Compulsion
I ran out of Christmas cards.
I bought two small boxes in August, one more in September and thought I had more than enough.
I have an address list on my computer [I used to have an address book but times change]. I guess there are more than 100 names on it.
I started writing cards to friends who live in other countries. Then very special relatives and friends. Then people who are very important to me . . . But I ran out of cards before I ran out of names.
I wrote holiday wishes on non-holiday note cards … and then I ran out of those.
Then I even ran out of stamps.
But I didn’t run out of people I wanted to send good wishes to.
I have no idea why it has become so important to touch base with people at this particular time of year ... this particular year.
But it is.
Sometimes it seems as though everything is being torn apart. Things are being blown up-- innocents shot -- thousands upon thousands wandering homeless-- so many people so lost, so cold, so hungry.
We need good wishes, we need to reach out to each other, extend caring and compassion, to remind ourselves how fortunate we are to have each other in our lives, however peripherally.
Because we all must carry on [calm or not] and do our best to acknowledge the interconnectedness of all of us.
So now I will send out e-cards.
God bless us, every one.
I bought two small boxes in August, one more in September and thought I had more than enough.
I have an address list on my computer [I used to have an address book but times change]. I guess there are more than 100 names on it.
I started writing cards to friends who live in other countries. Then very special relatives and friends. Then people who are very important to me . . . But I ran out of cards before I ran out of names.
I wrote holiday wishes on non-holiday note cards … and then I ran out of those.
Then I even ran out of stamps.
But I didn’t run out of people I wanted to send good wishes to.
I have no idea why it has become so important to touch base with people at this particular time of year ... this particular year.
But it is.
Sometimes it seems as though everything is being torn apart. Things are being blown up-- innocents shot -- thousands upon thousands wandering homeless-- so many people so lost, so cold, so hungry.
We need good wishes, we need to reach out to each other, extend caring and compassion, to remind ourselves how fortunate we are to have each other in our lives, however peripherally.
Because we all must carry on [calm or not] and do our best to acknowledge the interconnectedness of all of us.
So now I will send out e-cards.
God bless us, every one.
Wednesday, December 9, 2015
Driving Through Fear
A good friend of my – a really good friend, for a really long time – the kind of friend who forgives you when you are thoughtless and/or make mistakes – once loaned me a book entitled Feel the Fear And Do It Anyway. [At least I think that was the title. And I think I returned it. I hope so.]
I thought of that book when I prepared to go visit her for Thanksgiving. The weather forecast was terrifying – snow, ice, wind-- and she lives about 140 miles away.
I know that she didn’t quite understand why I was coming down (she lives south) on Thanksgiving Day (and not before) and returning home the following Saturday (instead of later). After all, I’m retired. I should be able to come and go whenever I please. Right. I am chairing a major community group and participating in a writers group and quite active in my congregation.
Plus, I’m significantly older than she (and many others). At this age, much of every week is consumed by appointments with caregivers of various kinds – doctors, physical therapists, Pilates instructors, dentists, and the wondrous people who help make my hair and nails and skin presentable.
And looming Christmas preparations.
Nonetheless, despite weather conditions and my own terror, I packed my toothbrush and drove south.
It was slow going but I made it. The Thanksgiving feast was amazing, the time with my friend, a treasure. And the trip home not quite as scary.
When weather conditions improved I took my car to the carwash. It deserved it.
I deserved it. I had felt the fear but done it anyway. Hooray!
I thought of that book when I prepared to go visit her for Thanksgiving. The weather forecast was terrifying – snow, ice, wind-- and she lives about 140 miles away.
I know that she didn’t quite understand why I was coming down (she lives south) on Thanksgiving Day (and not before) and returning home the following Saturday (instead of later). After all, I’m retired. I should be able to come and go whenever I please. Right. I am chairing a major community group and participating in a writers group and quite active in my congregation.
Plus, I’m significantly older than she (and many others). At this age, much of every week is consumed by appointments with caregivers of various kinds – doctors, physical therapists, Pilates instructors, dentists, and the wondrous people who help make my hair and nails and skin presentable.
And looming Christmas preparations.
Nonetheless, despite weather conditions and my own terror, I packed my toothbrush and drove south.
It was slow going but I made it. The Thanksgiving feast was amazing, the time with my friend, a treasure. And the trip home not quite as scary.
When weather conditions improved I took my car to the carwash. It deserved it.
I deserved it. I had felt the fear but done it anyway. Hooray!
Thursday, November 19, 2015
in a parking lot
Wonderful sights can happen anywhere -- even a grocery store parking lot.
In the few moments between errand one and errand two, I pulled into a parking space.
The afternoon sky was brilliant with sunshine -- accessorized with clouds that were themselves accessorized with shadow.
Against this shimmering canvas, a snow-white gull soared up and around, its feathers illumined except where tipped with black.
Grace itself, swooping above the shopping carts, the gull circled and circled, descending then ascending in repeated swirls of flight.
It was not possible to see its motivation. Was there some delicacy trapped on the macadam -- a trace of garbage enticing its repeated descents?
When it was time for me to move on, I drove past the spot I thought had drawn the bird … but saw nothing.
No one else had seemed to notice the avian dance.
Perhaps it was just for me.
Just a reminder that beauty is a component of all our days.
If we but look.
In the few moments between errand one and errand two, I pulled into a parking space.
The afternoon sky was brilliant with sunshine -- accessorized with clouds that were themselves accessorized with shadow.
Against this shimmering canvas, a snow-white gull soared up and around, its feathers illumined except where tipped with black.
Grace itself, swooping above the shopping carts, the gull circled and circled, descending then ascending in repeated swirls of flight.
It was not possible to see its motivation. Was there some delicacy trapped on the macadam -- a trace of garbage enticing its repeated descents?
When it was time for me to move on, I drove past the spot I thought had drawn the bird … but saw nothing.
No one else had seemed to notice the avian dance.
Perhaps it was just for me.
Just a reminder that beauty is a component of all our days.
If we but look.
Monday, November 16, 2015
A Vision Shared.
When we were growing up, my brother (Bill McClure) and I often tried to kill each other. With less than two years difference in our ages, we were sibling rivals par excellence. We didn’t become friends until I went away to college but our friendship has continued to deepen over the decades as we follow our respective spiritual paths. These paths are parallel, not identical, and it’s illuminating to see them reflected in our lives and work. Over the years, I have come to acknowledge the divine feminine and the holiness of all creation. So has Bill.
When his minister, Rev. J. Todd Smiedendorf (called Todd) asked him to create a large painting with images of the divine feminine/Black Madonna and the divinity of nature/Green Man, Bill began reading and sketching and carving and, over the past year, created the painting that was presented to the Washington Park United Church of Christ on Sunday, Nov. 8.
Early in the service, a good friend, Louise West, gathered the kids around the painting to learn what each of them saw – there are lots of creatures and birds and flowers. One little boy thought the Green Man was scary.
Then the scary part – for Bill – when he and Todd talked about the painting and the process of its creation.
Next, the extraordinary. Three men carried the painting toward the simple cross on the south wall and hung it in its center.
Later the congregation processed forward to admire it.
There is a round worship table in the center of the congregation’s rounded seating area. On it, is a carving of the Tree of Life that Bill created in 2007. It is possible to view both his creations simultaneously.
It is not possible to express the pride and joy I felt to see his vision shared.
When his minister, Rev. J. Todd Smiedendorf (called Todd) asked him to create a large painting with images of the divine feminine/Black Madonna and the divinity of nature/Green Man, Bill began reading and sketching and carving and, over the past year, created the painting that was presented to the Washington Park United Church of Christ on Sunday, Nov. 8.
Early in the service, a good friend, Louise West, gathered the kids around the painting to learn what each of them saw – there are lots of creatures and birds and flowers. One little boy thought the Green Man was scary.
Then the scary part – for Bill – when he and Todd talked about the painting and the process of its creation.
Next, the extraordinary. Three men carried the painting toward the simple cross on the south wall and hung it in its center.
Later the congregation processed forward to admire it.
There is a round worship table in the center of the congregation’s rounded seating area. On it, is a carving of the Tree of Life that Bill created in 2007. It is possible to view both his creations simultaneously.
It is not possible to express the pride and joy I felt to see his vision shared.
Tuesday, November 3, 2015
Magic Time
Time may be a construct… something humans conjured to provide the illusion of control over things but it can nonetheless be a profound experience.
Recently I wandered in and out of the past and present so rapidly that reality seemed more ephemeral than usual.
Imagine if you will seeing the child you brought in to the world 47 years ago, holding his two week old son – a son who looks remarkably like the child you brought in to the world when he was new – 47 years ago.
Then you get to hold him, the new one. You see his amazing eyes and nose and ears and even hair. He sort of smiles (you know it’s probably just digestive maneuverings but it still is magnificent).
And is it October 1968 or October 2015?
And does it matter? The old one and the new one cluster in the newly formed family.
You are integral and extraneous and it is all wonderful.
And magic.
Recently I wandered in and out of the past and present so rapidly that reality seemed more ephemeral than usual.
Imagine if you will seeing the child you brought in to the world 47 years ago, holding his two week old son – a son who looks remarkably like the child you brought in to the world when he was new – 47 years ago.
Then you get to hold him, the new one. You see his amazing eyes and nose and ears and even hair. He sort of smiles (you know it’s probably just digestive maneuverings but it still is magnificent).
And is it October 1968 or October 2015?
And does it matter? The old one and the new one cluster in the newly formed family.
You are integral and extraneous and it is all wonderful.
And magic.
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