Jacqui (jacqui) wrote,

Cats, Spiritual Beliefs, Armenians, Petting Zoos, New Homes, and Assholes Who Wear Fur

This morning I woke to find a ring of cats around my neck. Some of my beloved kitties had tucked in around my neck and shoulders so tightly I couldn't move my head. I liked it though, it was warm, comforting, cuddly and sweet. I love my cats so, but I don't feel safe to post pictures of them anymore here on LJ, which is sad. There are too many asshole control freaks who think they know better than everyone else and who can hurt us. Uh oh Buggy just fished something sparkly off of one of my shelves -- not sure what it is -- gotta go check.

Mmmmm, just cat naughtiness -- one of the grown up tortie kittens is extra super smart and gets into everything, I think it's Buggy, yep, it's Buggy all right. I keep giving them toys that we find, make, and buy but what they really like to do is get into the stuff I have put up on shelves. It's much more fun to knock things down and run off with them than play with things they've been given. They'd rather hunt and gather their own toys. I'm on to them though so I put things on the shelves that I know are safe for them to play with, but ever once in a while they'll get a hold of something that Beau or one of our housekeepers has mislaid and then rip it to shreds with pointy teeth and sharp claws.

I have this big Italian glass jar that I bought several years ago at a photo store, of all places. The owners liked home decor and would buy things on their travels and put them around their store. These big green glass jars must have been used for storing some kind of food in bulk because they're about two feet tall and have narrow necks that widen out into fat round bottoms that are about a foot and a half across. I use ours to display sand, seashells and sea glass that we find when we go beach combing, and I keep it on the coffee table in the family room/kitchen.

It's really pretty and the cats have never bothered with it before because it has this cork stopper on the top, plus it's really too tall and deep for them to do much with. But lately "someone" has been gnawing on the edges of the cork top and Esther has been finding shells on the floor. We didn't know what was going on until the day before yesterday when Esther put one of the shells back in the jar and put the top back on it and then minutes later came back into the kitchen to find Buggy tucked into the jar upside down with her butt and tail sticking up in the air.

She was resting her weight on her paws and then using her back feet to kind of brace herself against the lip of the jar so she could lift up her paws and sift through the sand for shells. Then when she'd find one, she would scoop the shells, along with the sand that poured between her little kitty paws, up along the sides of the vase until she had fished one out and dropped it on the floor. She would play with it for a while, as if it were a mouse, and then go back and repeat the whole process all over again. It was so funny and fun to watch. I swear I could just spend days sitting here watching my cats play. I hope that when I'm elderly and not as spry that I will always be surrounded by cats so I will always be able to watch them in wonder. I would be happy to retire this way, just sitting and watching animals.

Yesterday I went to my Scott's house, like I've been doing for the last several days. only since yesterday was Sunday, the traditional Christian day of rest, (Even though we are hardly traditional Christians, either of us -- Scott's having been raised Jewish and then having explored every nook and cranny of every obscure religion on the planet, ending up super spiritually educated and pieced together like some kind of crazy new aged quilt, and my having been raised with great big graceful mountains of Catholicism, tinged with glimpses of Judaism when the nuns would have us celebrate Passover with unleavened bread and grape juice, then having picked up a bit of Buddhism in college, eventually becoming something of an animal nut, not unlike a Jain, with bits and pieces of spiritual belief in reincarnation, life after white lit life, a strong belief in an individual heaven tailored to each individual where all life and energy is equal, animal, bug, plant and human, a love of all indigenous peoples, and an abiding faith in mother nature, the loveliness of the stars, the heavens, and the golden rule,) so like Scott getting all of the Jewish high holy days off from work, or my having been able to take the feast of the circumcision off when I am rabidly anti-circumcision, we cheated and took the day off. There, now how's that for a messy, bubbling cauldron of language?

Anyway what I was trying to say before I went off on that winding rant, (Oh man, is this how it starts, how one loses their mind as they age? I had a famous film director professor in college who was like this and it was maddening, he bored the shit out of us, you could literally hear people snoring or see them balancing their checkbooks in his classes), is that after days of packing, unpacking, shopping and organizing things for Scott's new home, we decided to take the day off. First we took a rich chocolatey cake over to the neighbors and had Kaffe, (that's how they pronounce Armenian coffee) with them, which was fun and sweet. I like the word sweet. Scott had found an article about Mount Ararat in the travel section of the LA Times, (I can't think about the LA Times without thinking about my friend Mary, I miss you Mary, how are you, are your reading this?) and brought that over to them, which made them happy. I didn't know that the Russians had just taken the mountains away from the Armenians and given them to Turkey, and that the older people wake up and stare at their beloved mountains with longing -- what cruelty.

We talked about gardening, marriage, drying fruit, Armenia, and things I couldn't make out or understand and then we made our excuses and left. It seems as if whenever we leave it is too soon for them, but we had plans and our plans were closing in half an hour. I had to kind of hustle Scott into his shoes and jacket and we dashed over to The Farm, which is this sweet, (there's that word again -- I'm going to have to resort to using a Thesaurus here; Sweet -- distinctly pleasing or charming, sweet smile, Synonyms: dulcet, engaging, winning, winsome. Related Words: agreeable, pleasant, pleasing; beautiful, fair, lovely; delectable, delicious, delightful, luscious; angelic, heavenly,) okay, delightful country petting zoo type place in the middle of this bustling city where schools bring kids to get a taste of the country. Although there's nothing green in sight, just brown and gold and lots of dirt dust and animals -- ahhh animals -- hungry, nibbling animals; sheep, very pregnant waddling goats, pigs, cats, donkeys, horses, ponies, llamas, emus, mean ostriches, roosters, hens, and bunnies.

I had brought Beau here when he was really little but couldn't remember how to get back so I'm happy to have discovered it again. Now I drive by it on the way to and from Scott's house and even late at night I'll take some biscuits and feed the goats through the fence. We met a lady there who's best friend, a sheep, had been forcibly removed from her home. She adopted it when it was a little baby sheep and had raised it like a house pet. She gave it baths in her tub and it slept under the covers with her. All of her neighbors knew about her sheep loving eccentricity and accepted it because she kept him very clean and didn't make any trouble, but one of her neighbors moved and the man who bought their house was an animal hating bastard who took her to court four times. She won three separate times which drained her financially but then the man got a council woman on his side, or in his pocket, and she lost her sheep on the last go-round. I swear I wish I knew where this man lived so I could egg his house and leave nasty little notes in his box. Anyway the people at The Farm were kind enough to take her sheep in and she visits him there every day. At first he was super depressed and frightened, having never lived with other sheep in a pen, but then he made friends with one of them and he's at least surviving, but frankly he looked sad to me. I'll make sure to pay special attention to him whenever I visit which I hope will be often.

Poor Scott, he tries to please me, and I know he appreciates nature and animals but he's just not much of a farm animal kind of guy. The dust was bothering him and his sinuses acted up and he was sneezing. He carried the food cups but didn't do as much feeding as I did. I had fun feeding the llamas who were aloof unless you had food, and then one of them sneezed green chewed up food bits all over my arm and shirt. I really didn't mind though. One of the llamas actually put her furry nose and mouth up to mine and sniffed at me for the longest time, then she must have decided something didn't smell quite right with me because she sort of reared her big whopping neck back and wouldn't let me touch her any more, oh well.

I had fun petting an emu who tolerated me as long as I didn't scratch too close to her head. I got bit over and over again by a scary ostrich who also pulled my scunchie out of my hair. I love ostriches but they can seem pretty scary with their height and their big wings, beaky mouths, and those prehistoric looking kicky feet. I let her bite me anyway, like I do with geese -- it doesn't break the skin, it just hurts like a good pinch. It confounded the ostrich though who couldn't seem to understand why I wouldn't be scared off by this and kept studying me with her big wet eyes.

Afterwards we washed off with bottled water and headed for the mall where we had dinner at a generic kind of deli place and then went to the movies. We saw Wimbledon, which we both liked, and Scott and I were surprised that as tired as he was, he managed to stay awake for the whole thing. After the movie we went back to his house and tried to get comfortable with as little furniture as we've managed to gather for him. I drew him a bath, which he refused to take, (hurt feelings), and then -- having run some water -- I set off this scary, loud, knocking sound in the pipes that lasted for hours.

I was able to get on line, unintentionally using someone else's wireless service, (weirdness, and thank you very much), and looked up knocking pipes so Scott could calm down a bit since everything in this new house seems to be upsetting him and causing him worry. He wants it all to be perfect, smooth, and easy, right now damnit, and it's causing him to have to deal with some of his control and fear stuff. Buying a house is one great big lesson in trust, faith and surrender, something that I think is super good for him to work through right now, if he can just ride it out like a smooth warm Hawaiian wave -- we'll see. In the meantime I'm doing everything I can to make it easier for him, but I do have to remember to pull back a bit and focus on my own home and priorities here. I've got plenty of my own troubles which, as long winded as I am, I won't bother to go into here today.

Ahhh it feels good to be able to take a minute or sixty-three here and be able to write without too many interruptions. I recently signed up with MSN Messenger and ADD addled brain gal that I am, I just cannot focus with all the little ding, ding, ding, hello are you there, where are you, talk to me God damnit, messages. I love my sweet friends but writing is dear to me and I have to be able to do it in peace. I

Our little curly haired Siamesey looking Leelu kitty is healing from her pelvic break, thank God, (Maybe I should put something in my info page about how when I say God it's really just shorthand for everything that I think is good and beautiful and bigger than myself, not just some traditional patriarchal God archetype. I don't like saying Goddess for some reason, although I have absolutely no problem at all with anyone else saying it. In fact I love it when my friends replace God with Goddess or say Blessed Be, it's so lovely, but I just have this God word burned into the deepest synapses of my brain and there is a part of me that loves my Catholic roots and hopes people will understand that my version of God is all embracing and loving, male and female, human and animal, sparkly and full of love,) and is sitting her annoyingly on my typing fingers, making it hard to write to you. We don't know how she injured herself and I'm just hoping she will learn her mistake and prevent this from happening again somehow. There wasn't any surgery for her, poor little lamby-pie, so we had to pen her up for forty-five long days to keep her from jumping up or down and limit her movements so her bone could heal, and thank the Lordy-Lord-Lordy-Lordyness, it seems to be well on it's way to doing so, yeay.

Please send us some Reiki and prayers for our cats and various animal friends. I need us all to stay healthy here for a few months at least. I am so overextended financially that if even one of my pets gets sick just now it would really be a hardship for us. In another few months it'll be a different matter, but all of these trips and expenses we've had over the last few months have made things really tight here financially and it's going to take some serious creativity to wriggle my way out of this. I have got to get off my ass and earn some money but I keep throwing roadblocks in the way. Argh, now Lui and Jake want to sit where Leelu is sitting. Why can't they be polite and settle for, next to me on a pillow, like Niki has?

I have two very cool new pals that I met and befriended at Burning Man this year, Phil and Savina. Savina's journal is bleach_bacon and Phil's is XD04. Savina is a deeply sensitive vampire artist gal and Phil is a sweetheart computer genius. Without knowing it they are teaching me so much. One thing I'm learning is to get over my fear of being separate from other people just because I'm older than they are. This was never an issue for me until I got together with my Scotty and sort of started to pick it up from him. He would call people who were ten or fifteen years younger, "Kids," and then without even realizing it, I started doing it too. Maybe it just happens with age. I am definitely raging against aging these days.

I've been getting angrier and angrier about all of the Fucking fur ads, fur coats, ponchos, purses, shoes, and fur skin trim that people are wearing again. People are so stupid when it comes to fashion. If they see models wearing it, if they see a favorite celebrity wearing it, well, then they'll wear it too. They can't think for themselves. It's as if all of the work we did in the eighties and nineties was for nothing and having thought we'd won the battle and squeezed the furriers out of business we sat back on our lazy but creative asses while they've been plotting their big return. I blame the magazine editors and the stylists and the designers and I'm working on a website where I'm going to out anyone who wears fur, cause really what else can I do? How can I watch someone wearing twenty of my pet chinchillas who were murdered and stripped of their skin and do nothing? I'm so tired of sticking my neck out and fighting but I'm not so sure that pacifism is the way to go anymore, it wasn't until we started scaring people that they stopped wearing fur, although they've crept back out of their Fucking holes again so maybe the whole fear tactic doesn't really work. I don't know, I just know that I have to do something... I'll let you know. Oh cool Phil helped me register bitchesinfur.com so I can set something up that'll out people who wear, promote or sell fur, yeay.

Okay that's more than enough for one busy day here. Wish I could share pictures of my lovely kitties with you today, they are looking so sweet, yes sweet, laying here beside me.

Love you guys,

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