A Sad Day...

Today, dear Elmo was laid to rest. After a long and bitter emotional struggle, it was decided by Elmo's caretakers and doctors that because he had been abandoned by his owner at such an old age (13), and at such a delicate and difficult time (he was diagnosed with diabetes as he came into the shelter), he was suffering both physically and mentally.

He doesn't have to be afraid or worried or alone anymore. Though I only knew him a short time, (and I feel a bit silly being as upset as I am), Elmo really made an impression on me and I know I will miss him and think of him for a long time.

I offered to sprinkle his ashes at Valley Forge Park, so he could chase squirrels and deer to his heart's content. We don't know what he liked especially, but I figured a place full of the spirits of the soldiers who died at Valley Forge would be the perfect place to send him - where he'll be surrounded by people and fun outdoorsy stuff.

I felt a bit weird offering my services in this regard (this, after all, isn't my cat and I didn't know him for very long), but I feel better having made the offer. The folks at the shelter are so kind to me - I have always appreciated their generosity of spirit.

I'm glad that Elmo was known and will be remembered by us. I'm not unexperienced at missing someone never truly known, so this feeling is not a new one. I hope you sleep well, Elmo.

Post-Poem Regret

Ugh.

You know, late at night, I always get these silly urges to be creative and 'express myself', and then I usually end up with the sort of lame poetry that was featured last night. I apologize for this lapse in judgment. This is what happens when I spend too much time alone with my thoughts. :-)

Last night the kittens were adorable - for anyone who might not be familiar, I have three. Frigga and Freyja are the playful ones, and last night they definitely were in 'a mood'. I was sort of flirting around with going to bed, and apparently it wasn't quite fast enough for them, because they started trying to pin my arms down on the bed every time I moved something off of it. (At my apartment, the bed is usually covered in books/clothes/yarn)

This is an awful picture of me (why I shouldn't slouch), but this is a great example of the kittens. Trying to do homework? They sit on me. Trying to blog? They sit on me. Trying to play MarioKart Wii? They sit on me. AND try to eat the nunchuck cable. It's great.

Honestly, though, it's great to have little somebodies in the house. It gets lonely up here in North Jersey, and their decision to grace me with their presence brings me a whole lot of joy. (Frigga is on the 'bottom', Freyja is on the 'top')

Tonight I'm going to Mt. Pleasant (an animal shelter I volunteer at), and I'm going to be spending some time with one of the cats there. His name is Elmo, and he's really adorable. He's 12/13 years old, and diabetic. He requires injections two times a day, but aside from that slight issue, there's nothing wrong with this old boy. He's a sweetie and I'm worried about finding him a home. Luckily, Mt. Pleasant is a no-kill shelter, but because he has a special diet he has to stay in one of the (albeit roomy) cages all the time. I don't think he likes that at all. (This is Elmo, by the way).

I know it's not responsible to want to bring another cat into the house, but my heartstrings didn't stand a chance against this guy. He's like a big lion! With diabetes. But that's okay!

I'll be hoping and praying he gets a home. I'm going to put up the same runes I did for Callie (who was adopted!!!) when I was worried she wouldn't find a home.

Poems

I went through all this effort in college to produce poetry. When I was in high school, I had a well-meaning but misguided (in my opinion) English teacher who turned me into a wonderful technical writer but turned off my creative talent (if it could be called that). She was a great lady, and taught me a lot of good things, but I've never been able to re-discover that switch that was turned off in 10th grade. The closest I've come was with a creative writing class in college that forced me to write poetry or fail.

I'm going to try doing that again. I have trouble motivating myself to write sometimes, and hopefully this exercise will get me going. There's something extremely satisfying about writing a poem that neatly fits a rhythm I aim to accomplish. Not that they're good, mind you, just that they have a nice lilt.

Glance
Can you hear it too?

This thickly muffled pounding,
dully pulling me forward
from under my ribcage.

I can feel past all these
heavy bones and thick flesh,
pulsing ahead,
becoming.

I can touch all that I
have so roughly lost;
reach beyond these simple
confines of blood and skin.

I can HEAR them screaming
into this familiar emptiness,
silently crying with harsh rasps.

All that I have ever hoped for is
so nearly close, I can feel it
under my skin, and yet
so far beyond my fingertips.

What undying agony is this,
rattling with newly old
cries in my heart?

Sad Truths...

While I know it's the holiday season and we're all supposed to be upbeat, I found an article that I think is very important, and deserves consideration.

In December of last year, Michelle Kehoe slit the throats of her two sons, ages seven and two, and driving her car into an icy river to cover the crime. She was rescued from the river, along with her two boys (the younger of which died from his wounds) by four men who jumped into the cold water. The rescuers are only now finding out that the mother, Michelle, was the one who hurt her children. More details can be found here.

The important point that I wanted to highlight here was a statement made by Laurie Levenson of of Loyola Law School in California. She was commenting on the stable annual statistic that shows at least half of all children murdered in the US are killed by their own parent. Her statement was this:

"The natural defense to anticipate is insanity because why would a mother kill her own child?" Levenson asked. "It certainly can be insanity, but it's not always the case. Perfectly sane people can do horrible things and they do, every day."

It's much easier to think that bad things happen because of some material defect in the brain, some sort of behavioral abnormality that cannot be controlled by those who suffer it. In reality, people do awful things all the time simple because they can, not because they cannot.

The reason I'm blogging about this is because, in actuality, it is statements like Ms. Levenson' that give me hope for the state of humanity. Evil isn't something that sneaks and creeps along and takes over people to commit horrible deeds. People choose to do horrible things. Which means that they can choose to do good things, too.

I guess the hard part is figuring out how to make it easier to choose to do right than to choose to do wrong. And I guess that's why we have psychology, sociology, anthropology, etc. To figure out why people do bad things, why they do good things, and how we can help them choose the latter.

Google Reader

Well, I've found my new favorite site (only behind LOLcats, of course...). Google Reader has allowed me to amalgamate all my favorite blogs, news sources, etc. etc. into one easy-to-access place. Indeed, it might be the only thing that brings me to read some of the blogs that I really love, because though they are amazing, my time is extremely limited, and searching through my bookmarks is not something I often do.

Highly recommend Google Reader. Thumbs up!

The Financial Crisis

Things have officially become a little bit more than slightly worrisome economy-wise. I found a great article from Pat Regnier, a writer for Money Magazine. It's a letter to his kids about the current financial crisis and how we got there.

Very poignant, I think.

Lessons for Kids from the Great Crash

Catching up

WOW.

How else can I summarize the past month? It was October 18th, almost a month ago now, when Sonny proposed to me at the Renaissance Faire. Words cannot describe how unbelievably breathtaking the whole experience was. Sonny had it planned out beautifully. Apparently he'd been working on the whole event for a month.

He told me the week before that Saturday that he had gotten this giant order in for four dozen roses, to be delivered at Queen's Court. He told me he didn't know many details of the delivery, so he'd have to scoot of partway through our preparations that morning to make sure he delivered to the right person. Little did I know he was making the final preparations for his proposal while I sat vialing roses behind the shop! I had the whole four dozen (and then some) vialed by the time he got back.

The reason I rushed through getting them ready was because Laura and Val had slipped behind the shop with me after Sonny had taken off. They told me that they had arranged with the Queen to have Sonny knighted as the Best Bud Stud Ever (which of course he is). I thought this was a marvelous idea, and so set about making sure everything would be ready in time for him to be there for Queen's Court at 11:15. First, I called my parents (who were coming, and I had never given a second thought as to why) to let them know they should be there on time to see Sonny be knighted. Then I remembered Sonny had said his mother was coming as well - and I thought to myself 'what luck! She'll see him get knighted too!'. So obviously it's just not that hard at all to pull the wool over my eyes.

Laura arranged so that we could all go to Queen's Court and 'watch Sonny be knighted'. I sat with my family, and saw Sonny standing off to the side. 'Mua ha ha', I thought, 'he has no idea what's about to happen!'. Again, with the obliviousness. Sonny came up to the front of the stage and started speaking - I wondered how much they must have tipped him to get him to be so willing to speak in front of so many people!!! And of course, the rest is history - the presentation of the roses, him going down on one knee, and of course, lots of kisses!

I was ashamed to admit to him later I couldn't remember what I had said - but thankfully he remembered exactly what I responded to him with:

"Yes, of course yes!"


PS - That rainbow appeared mysteriously in one of the pictures Amanda took. I haven't doctored this photo or anything - I think it's just another good omen for what is going to be an amazing marriage and a wonderful life.