Typing (typoing) badly but pondering nonetheless in this pre-Yule season

Before you do anything, click on this ...
http://www.npr.org/2010/12/13/97778347/jingle-jams-a-holiday-mix-from-npr-music
and set loose a mix of 10 top radio stations 10 top Christmas tunes from one end of the entertainment spectrum to the other that plays an endless loop of awesome tunes, many of which you likely have never heard.

Now on to the blog...

This recent spate of murders of women in New Jersey that came up in the news today comes at a time when I had just seen the movie 'The girl with the dragon tattoo' and although the topic of serial murders is a serious one, and I am aware that every large metropolis at one time or another attracts its own version of 'Kali the Destroyer' in the form of these sick psychopaths, but of course, my brain takes another whole tack on the story and fixates on the female protagonist's awesome haircut. Go figure. Does that make me shallow?

She is very cold and very quick and also very beautiful in a boyish sort of way. The cut makes her look tough and beautifully tousled. Combined with her piercings, she denotes a strength that superheros wish they had. And then she straps on a helmet and rides her motorcycle. (Swoon) Women like that bring out the closet lesbian in me and I'm starting to think that I am attracted to this because this is some aspect of me that I have not realized is a part of me... and if I cut my hair like this, and see that boyish sexy feminine strength looking back at me from my mirror, I will be ritualizing an acceptance of this side of my nature... sort of embracing my inner masculine just like men are being encouraged to embrace their inner feminine nature.

But then, I remember a wise friend who is now the mother-in-law of my daughter, once telling me instead of putting myself through the trials and tribulations just to have something to write about, just skip the middleman and simply write about it as though I'd done it... save myself the grief. Then I shake out my shaggy mane that is now fully grown out and past my shoulders, a big sexy mop that looks great up or down, and turn to  my blog to share this with my dear readers. *chuckles* So that's what I just did.

Another pondering.

Why don't churches put up Christmas lights and decorations like everyone else around the neighbourhood?

As the season is upon us, the lighting up of christmas lights becomes a viral neighbourhood change from the perspective of my eagle aerie home on the 4th floor. The Armed Forces base here in the harbour has a contest every year and raises thousands by putting on  tours for civilians. People come and learn about the base, enjoy the lights, donate food and also vote for their favourite light installation. My hubby is down there in the Dockyard and the building his office is in is whimsically decorated with sledding hills and a Santa in a tank and assorted other xmas frippery as is every other building. But there at the gates of the base sits the pretty little white church that Ron attends, St.Paul's... not a light in the place. Dead windows watching thousands of cars pass by to and from the base, every day.

I am not a parishioner as Ron is and I believe that to keep our relationship from getting completely caught up  in the drama of the church because of his heavy involvement in the running of it, its best I give it a wide berth, but I pay attention and help here and there from behind the scenes. Because of this, I hear about all the dramas and foibles of running a church at a time when the papal economy is not just bad but being mishandled by a botched bunch of interesting egos. When the congregation is constantly verbally diminished and abused by neglect at a time when the church needs to attract more bodies, not repell them, here is a golden opportunity for a church that spent the better part of $100,000 on a stained glass window just months before it started threatening to be closed for good, to attract some attention of the positive kind for themselves and give people a reason to put their bums in those pews.

The beautiful seasonal lights that go on for kilometers, just a block away and all the private homes in the area that have also contributed to the display for the holidays could be joined by a church lit up with a few tasteful strands from the belltower to say 'Look at how we celebrate the birth of the Saviour!' ... there is a beautiful garden and a creche could be erected, lighting tastefully on the scene of the manger. Perhaps do something in the parking lot that invites participants of the tour bus adventure to stop in and partake, carolling or something. But no. Instead, the little church sits dead in the dark, a shadow on the edge of all that colour and dazzle. What is wrong with this picture?

Another pondering...

My boy cat, Ciao recently had a bout of dealing with uric crystals in his urine irritating his urethra to the point of my having to take him to the vet. The billing of this incidence is another story... ($887!!! for one night and no surgery!!) but in the course of his treatment they gave him a little snack pocket that I was shown how to break these little pain pills in half and tuck inside to give the cat. I asked my vet for some painkillers for my cats of the over the counter variety, like the aspirins/tylenol/acetominophen that is available for humans and there isn't anything like that out there.

Why not? He had no answer and told me painkillers for cats are only available by prescription.

I think thats just a scam to support the veterinarian economy.

On the topic of cats, have you ever heard of 'barnyard medicine'? Facebook friend Savannah's mom Chrissy showed me how to tend to cat's various ailments a few years ago and thats what she called it. She fed her cats an inch of moldy bread when they had a need for penicillin, and she cleared the abcesses cats get from their fights under a faucet with practiced hands explaining that a farm with barn cats can't afford to take the cats to the vet for every little affliction and that she had to learn how to recognize what needed to be done, herself. Another strong woman... When I asked him about 'Barnyard Medicine', the vet had never heard of such a thing.

Ciao is fine now. I learned that male cat urethras are the length of a pencil lead's width and that its very easy for stuff to get up there and to prohibit this collecting of crystals that can potentially lead to complete blockage there are a couple of things one can do besides just keeping fresh water on hand. One is feed the cat wet food that you have stirred a couple of tablespoons of water into, another is use the vet recommended food that specifically addresses getting boycats who need to drink more water to seek it out, by being very salty. Lastly, look at the ingredients on the packaging for the ash content of dry cat food. The cheaper brands are like junk food, my vet says. I will have to look up his name to give him a total high five here... he's as awesome with animals as I wish I could find a Dr. for humans to treat me... lol

One last ponderance as the phone startles me, ringing this early in the morning. Its only 8:15 and I am jarred out of my serenity by the insistent ringing. We have taken our voice mail off and have call display so I can see that the phone number is not a local area code, plus, its a number I don't recognize and an unknown caller is what the display reads as.

With my technology at  my fingertips, I put the phone number into my google search field twice yesterday and one of the numbers that kept calling was the Canada Conservative Party and the other was a phishing marketing company from China.... Go figure. Googling those phone numbers you don't recognize is brilliant and really helps keep us from having to deal with telemarketers who want to sell us crap we don't want or need all while rudely intruding in our serenity.


I was joking with a facebook friend yesterday about Ron being Anglican contrasted by my being shamanic and the mention of Jesus came up when she said that the most sacred place for her was in nature.  I shared that being in nature is where I felt closest to the Divine Feminine, and that we all came to the spiritual fount of inspiration at the same place, just by different means and ways... I said that how we got there doesn't matter as much as that we wound up at the same conclusion... I called it 'All roads lead to roam' I think that's a great title for Ron and my combined autobiography...

:)

Every little step.
That's today's ponderance.

fine print: My little netbook is still compromised and that forces me to do my internet bidding on the tiny lime slice so I am likely making a mess of the typoing of this, but oh well. We all get over it.

Hey, if I make you think... leave a comment!