MYSTERY FERAL---PART HAVANA BROWN?

A couple of years ago I rescued two kittens. They were already several months old and very feral. I had been feeding their mother, who was a black, short-hair. When she became pregnant again, she left the kittens in my backyard. I heard a commotion one night and I looked out. The two kittens were surrounded by five racoons. They looked at me and the open door, looked at the racoons, and back. They did this several times and as the racoons moved in on them, they made their decision. They ran into my home. It has taken some time, but they have become a member of my cat family. I was surprised when Chester took them under his wing. He's usually very jealous, but he adopted them. I am still the only human who can interact with these cats and it worries me should something happen to me. The vet told me a story of an older woman in the community who adopted ferals and did well with them. When she died, however, nobody could deal with the cats and all of them had to be put down. I had not wanted to keep these kittens, but I was told that they were too old to be tamed and were not adoptable. It took a year for Ollie, the black one, to finally make his move to come and snuggle up with me in bed. He is very playful. He will chase a toy and fetch it in the same manner that a dog will. He will return it to me. He can play for hours. All I have to do is make a "mousey" sound and he knows that it's game time. He will greet me at the door and extend his paws in the most loving of manner. He will tug at my bootlaces when I get off work, as though he is trying to pull my shoes off.
I did some research and he looks very much like Havana Brown cats. He has a long face, dark whiskers, a very playful manner. His coat is unbelieavable. I know who his mother was, but his father is up in the air. There was a siamese that I spotted in the neighbourhood, but I don't know if it was a male or female. I always thought the culprit was an orange, one-eyed tom---but who knows.
By the way, the story has a happy ending. I later caught his tramp of a mother when she had her next litter of five kittens. They were all females. They were adopted and I got her fixed. She was meant to be a catch and release, but when I opened the door, she just looked at me. She didn't leave. Her kittens were overjoyed to see her move into the house. Poe, the little gray one, still runs up to her all the time for licks. Chester has also taken to her.
So, if anybody knows anything about cat breeds, does this guy look like he could be part Havana Brown?

MICROSOFT IS USELESS---GIVE ME STRENGTH

I am doing this on my friend's borrowed Mac, which I don't really know how to use, but at least ikt works. I had borrowed it to show that the photos could upload just fine, thankyou very much. In my post the other day I wrote that Microsoft deemed my new camera a Xerox scanner and refused to upload the photos. The MAC has no such problem. Well, today is just the end. Those idiots at Microsoft sent some updates. First of all, if their stinking roduct worked in the first place they wouldn't have to send updates all the time. I mean constantly. In fact, I had a functioning computer until they sent updates. It crashed a month or so into my ownership a d the motherboard had to be replaced. After that, nothing ever worked. I think the whole idea behind the updates is to ruin your computer so that you have to upgrade or buy a new one. Well, I will never purchase any of their lousy crap again. Today the updates are stuck. Stage 3 won't load and I cannot get it to stop either. I tried to unplug the stinking thing and to undo the internet. It just keeps coming, like the movie Groundhog Day. Idiots.

WHEN FRIENDS SUCCEED

I have spent a lot of time this summer proof-reading something for a friend of mine. He had written a manuscript which was about 500 pages in length and I was happy to see that he would allow me to have a look at it.

I went through it a number of times, with my assortment of coloured pens and post-it notes. He must have spent a fortune at Kinko's, having the various drafts put together.

He has had interest expressed in his novel and I am so proud of him. Perhaps one day I will be able to do a book review in this blog.

I was reminded of something that I had read once. I cannot recall the quote exactly, but it had to do with the success of friends. I guess that people have a difficult time when their friends succeed. Men, in particular, can be made to feel less adequate if there is a power imbalance.

I don't understand that lack of logic. If my friends do well or get praise, I cannot but help feel good for them. You need to understand that I speak of "friends" here---not people you know that might be on your social networking site. When that bond truly exists, a person won't leave us in the dust for better opportunities. They'll still be there to have our backs. They may do so sporting better clothing and driving a nicer car, but nothing can replace that strong connection of shared time and events. True, it can be odd if one person suddenly becomes "The Boss". Then you need to be really clear about boundaries. But surely the two people had more in common then just the job to talk about.

I might envy the fact that a person has a talent whereas I don't. I know that I beat myself up for not sticking to my diet when I have a gorgeous friend who's a size zero. But I could never wish her anything but the best.

In marriage, the ceremony implies being there for each other "in sickness and in health". I think that applies to true friendship as well. It means that we must support people when they do well. Their success is a reflection of their ability, not our lack of it. When they win, it takes nothing away from the rest of us.

I am so proud of my buddy. When people bring up his manuscript, I feel like the proverbial grandmother taking out the photo album of the grandkids.

I wrote about loss in a previous post. I really have discovered how valuable some people are to me. I know that my world will diminish greatly without them. There is enough in our economy and world to make us give up and feel bad. We really do need to reach out and give others the impetus to take a risk and strive for something. Talent needs to be fostered, as does any of those little things we need to get through our day.

It's terrible, but things get awkward when time lapses and we don't speak to each other. What caused it? We may want to get in touch, but cannot overcome that feeling. However, that odd feeling is nothing compared to the raw emotion a person will suffer should something bad happen to that person. To find that they just aren't there anymore. So call...reach out...make the move.

NEVER MIND THE LOST WEEKEND...it's the lost year

The rant on Microsoft will go some way at explaining why I've not written for a year. To be honest, however, there is more. It was the proverbial annee horrible.

I have had nothing go right with anything I own. My pump went on my well and I had to replace it at significant cost. In the meantime, I had no water for a week and a half. I told people to stand well clear of me. There is still plumbing work to be done, as the water was so bad that large chunks of rust have plugged up my pipes and appliances. I am making do for the time being, as after the plumber's visit and even more car repairs, there wasn't much left to play with.

It has been one of those years where I have been forced to reevaluate a lot of things. Both of my parents had some serious health issues. They are wonderful people and I want to see them travelling and lounging about. They deserve so much more. I feel intense guilt about not spending enough time with them.

Something else that happened was that my friend died. I feel responsible for his death. I feel as though I failed him in some deep and profound way. He was a wonderful person who had been in the military at one time. He shared some of the things he'd witnessed with me. We were a team at work. We used to eat our lunch together and we'd talk about any and all topics. It could be music, or the talent of Kevin Spacey or even (one day), the poem "Paradise Lost." He was a big man, sporting many tattoos. Yet, he would come over to my house and put on a pair of leather gloves for rough play. It's not what you think. He'd get on his hands and knees and engage one of my cats in a rousing game of chase. After he was spent, and sweating up a storm, the cat would walk over and lick him on his balding head. The game was over. We used to joke about our meal break and refer to it as the "lunch of losers", as oppossed to the "breakfast of champions". He'd drink his regular Pepsi while I would drink my diet. He told me that I was his best friend, other then his wife.

We had a pact. After work one day, he called me up. This man, who had witnessed burnt bodies in the military and dealt with other horrors, was breaking up. One of his cats was on the floor and he didn't think he could check it out. I went over and unfortunately, the cat had died suddenly for no reason. I took it to the vet to be cremated, as he was not able to do so. That's when we came up with our understanding. Should anything ever happen to the others pets, the other person would deal with it. We also agreed that the other would look after the pets in our wills, should all parties die.

I shared a few bad incidents with this man, and we helped each other through them. We had a strong bond. There wasn't much that we didn't share.

Things can change in an instant. We were broken up as a team and he began to feel isolated. It became harder for him to come to work without me as his partner. There were rumours as to why we had been broken up as a team. He began to go home halfway through his shift. One day, he fell and injured himself. On top of his existing medical issue, that was it for him. A combination of medications killed him.

I think of him all the time. Oddly, if I do sleep, I dream about his cat. I dream of being in the hallway of his apartment and not being able to get in. I miss him so much. I think of how we used to laugh and how well we worked together. I failed him in that I was going through some difficult issues at work and I wasn't functioning as well as I should. Because it seemed to take everything that I had to show up and earn my oats, I would spend my days off in the same pair of sweat pants, not getting anything done and not talking to anybody. There was nothing left of me. I knew that the medicatiion was hurting him but I didn't stop him from using them. I did not see him enough. I really would give anything to do it again.

So, I guess that's what this year has been about. The realization that those close to us can disappear in an instant. It was odd, but the night he died, I happened to be reading a poem by Allen Ginsberg called "Kaddish". When I heard the news in the morning, a line came back to me and I used it at his memorial. A year later I still recall parts of it..."...rest. No more suffering for you. I know where you've gone, it's good." I just hope that he never really believed in our "lunch of losers" talk. That's the last thing he was.

MICROSOFT NEEDS TO CALL ITS NEXT PRODUCT---NOT RESPONDING (no fancy names like Vista).

I cannot upload photos anymore. Microsoft has deemed my new camera (Fuji) a scanner (Xerox) and it refuses to upload. It just stopped one day. It couldn't burn discs from day one. It somehow feels that my internet connection---well paid for to the phone company---is another sort of connection. I had to keep reinstalling the Wizard, and it would insist that I wasn't worthy. Today, it took me about one hour to get online. My e-mail? Forget it. I'll show more photos in my "DAILY LEMON REPORT." People think I've blown them off. If I try to comment, it'll double post, or I'll get knocked off part way through. For no reason at all the speakers just stopped working today. They then came back to life.
I have missed reading my favourite blogs. People think I'm a snob for not getting on Facebook.
Microsoft---why don't you just call your next product "Not Responding". That's all I see. Never mind the Vista logo. I'm so fed up that when this finally dies (my friend tinkered), I won't get a new one. I have no money and I am disgusted by the product.
Enough for now. I will write more (maybe, if I get online) another day about the rest of the story, so to speak, and why all has not been well. I hope to catch up with blogs, Dlisted, etc.

A SAD LOSS

Before I explain my long absence (computer problems mainly), I found this and want to share it. This song was dedicated to a wonderful human being; a person I regret not getting to really know. He worked with us for a while before transferring. It was only upon his death that I learned that he too was a secret writer. He liked photography (although he had talent and I am merely interested). He read Dostoevsky.
While I was finding it increasingly difficult to show up for work, and life in general due to depression, he would have understood. As a child I loved to read "Anne of Green Gables." Like Anne, I was always on the lookout for "kindred spirits" (to use her line). What a missed opportunity. Now I will never be able to ask who his favourite poets were and why. Due to shift work, our paths crossed so infrequently. I am lamenting the loss his family feels and the waste in such a person passing, but I am also regretting my loss. How many people cross our path that could be somebody with whom we connect? Why do we continue to miss those chances?
I only hope that he managed to find some ease with himself at the end and peace.
In the meantime, this song was dedicated to him. The singer is Andrew Putt and the band is "Pardon My Striptease."

TWO YEARS

...........................................................................................................................................
Nobody warned us about "The Lord of the Flies"
Winter just gone, with green in the air.
Ball bats came out, but children's toys lie.
This game is death; and you're 'it' my dear.
.
I fear for you, but I must do my job.
Switch off, switch on...my paperwork's done.
My friend somewhere, lost in this mob.
But what's to be found, when the cavalry's come?
.
And now my anger sleeps like a cat.
Half lidded, dreamless, silent I wait.
For the trigger to pull,
And hammer slide back.
Releasing my own version of simmering hate.
.
(Photo found on net. From a series by the wonderful Damien Loeb, a favourite artist of mine.)
.
My computer wasn't working when I wrote this, so I am posting it later. For a friend, who lived to tell and the person who made it so. You are both so brave).