Thinking it Through

X-Mas Greetings

I am visiting my sister in Prescott for the X-mas holiday and having a wonderful time. It is nice to spend time with family, and Prescott is a beautiful place to be. Yesterday I took an X-Mas sunset picture I include here.                                                                                                                                        

  I love the way the sun lights up the ground cover in this shot from my sister's back patio. It is plenty cold here--low's in the teens and highs in the low 40's--and I am getting a chance to wear my patagonia socks for the first time since my last winter in CT (1998). So, we are spending our days and evenings in front of a roaring fire, reading, talking, and watching movies. A very nice time indeed.

We brought our dog, Bonnie, a.k.a Princess Pooch, and she is having the most fun of all. She may be a city dog by birth, but she loves the freedom to run in the crisp mountain air, to play along side the horses, and to leap over my sister's patio wall. My sister has about 11 acres, most of it forested, and Bonnie loves to run near the house and smell all the wonders of the wild. Thankfully, she doesn't stray far from the house and barn, but we keep a close eye on her. My sister has seen lots of javelina, coyotes, and bob cats, and even a mountain lion has sauntered by, so as much as Bonnie loves to run, we always make sure she is within our sight.

On this particular visit, however, Bonnie has discovered something she likes even more than running in the woods: stretching out in front of the fire place. She has topped the snore meter more than a few times as she snoozes in front of the fire:                                                                                                     Now that is a content doggie! I love that she has her paw on top of her nylabone. I am certain she is dreaming about Santa's sleigh filled with nylabones, balls, bone shaped biscuits, and one of those puppy pots she had on X-mas eve.

As someone who professes no religion and whose father made x-mas a magical time, that's what this holiday is all about for me: Santa. I love to watch kids revel in the magic and wonder of Santa; it brings back fond memories for me. My dad loved x-mas, and when my siblings were children and again when I came along, he set up this elaborate ritual on x-mas eve. We'd have dinner, clean up, and the prepare cookies and milk for Santa, and carrots, apples, and some hay for the reindeer. Then we'd all pile in the car to go look for Rudolph. Inevitably, just before putting the car in drive, my dad would have to go to the bathroom and my grandmother would realize she'd forgotten her purse (and somehow I never wondered why she needed her purse). They would head back into the house as I grumbled and whined about Santa being here and our missing him. After what seemed like forever, they'd return, and we'd head out in search of Rudolph's red nose in the sky.

Because we lived in the middle on no where, the night skies were filled with stars and we had a broad view of the sky. We drive for a while and everyone would search the night sky for the red of Rudolph's nose. Along the way, someone would spot Rudolph, and we would follow him for awhile then discover he was heading toward our house. The trip always ended with a wild drive down the driveway as I watched the red light sweep down toward my house and then after a minute or two rise into the night sky and head off. We'd then come to a screeching halt in the garage, fly out of the car and into the house to find our stocking stuffed, presents under the tree, and Santa's and the reindeer's food gone! It was magic, and I loved it.

What I didn't know until much later in my life was that Rudolph's red nose was actually a red light on a friend of my father's plane. My dad had a plane, and 1942 or 45 Howard, and was part of the local air posse and a avid pilot. For x-mas, he'd get together with a friend and map out a flight plan for Santa, and that would be the path we'd follow on x-mas eve. The flight plan ended each year with the plane swooping down over our house and then flying low across an open field right behind the house.

As an adult, I can now appreciate what a wonderful gift my father has given me. As a child, x-mas was a magical time, and while I no longer look for Rudolph in the night sky, the holiday continues to be a magical time.

Merry Christmas everyone. May your holiday be a magical one.

Necessary Compromise or Sell Out?

The Senate's debate on the health care bill has left me frustrated and confused. Over the last few weeks it seemed as if the bill changed more often than a teenager getting ready for a date, and frankly, because it was the end of the semester, I just didn't have the time to keep up. What I could follow left me with a sense that some Democrats seemed more inclined to surrender than to fight, and that what was being lost were two of the things I valued most: the public option and restrictions on woman's right to use personal income/insurance to cover the costs of an abortion.

So last night/this morning when the US Senate finally got around to the cloture vote on health care and the Democrats managed to get the 60 votes needed to avoid a Republican filibuster, I posted the following as my Facebook status:

all I really wanted for Christmas was the public option. Thanks for nothing Senate Claus. I no longer believe in you.

Although I fully understand the necessity of compromise, I believed the passage of the bill had simply cost too much. And as much as I wanted to overcome the Republican's desire to obstruct at all costs, I was disappointed, angry, and, well, mad as hell that the Democrats hadn't stood fast in support of the public option and abortion rights. I had high hopes for progressive reforms after the 2008 election, and I felt as if all I had fought for had been sold to the highest bidder.

Reading the blogs today and listening to interviews with Senate Democrats for whom I have nothing but respect (Sen Barbara Boxer, Sen John D. Rockefeller IV, Sen. Bernie Sanders), I no longer know what I think. Certainly as the history of medicare and civil rights show, getting reform right  takes time. And maybe this bill sets the stage for future health care reform. And maybe as Nate Silver argued today on Hardball, although this bill is far from perfect, it is much better than the status quo. But there's also Jane Hamsher's "Kill the Bill" petition and her list of the top 10 reasons why the bill should be killed, and Markos Moulitsas' argument that the insurance companies have won, and the fact that the bill does not have the support of the unions. But wait, Talking Points Memo reports that the AMA supports the Senate health care bill.

Hell, I don't know what to think.

Litter Box Woes

If my cats were basketball players, they would be John Stockton and Shaq. They're both great players, but the size differential is clear. Boomer weighs 11 pounds soaking wet, and when he's feeling particularly proud, he might be about 13 inches from the tip of his nose to the base of his tale.

Then there is Scooter Pie, aka big boy. He weighs about 19 pounds and runs about 22 inches from his head to the base of his tail. Oh that tail. He carries it high and it is at least a foot long--I kid you not. They get along well, and we love them. They pretty much run the house, and we let them. And for the last 7 yrs, they've brought us love, laughter, and companionship.

The only thing I don't love about cats is litter boxes. But, because I prefer my cats to live inside, I deal. Several years ago I bought what I thought was a great top-loading litter box. It was deep and wide and cats had to enter through a hole in the cover. The cover was not to their liking--the shit all over it--but once I got the message and took it off, we were a happy household.

We lived in litter box bliss for several years until this past summer when one of them began shitting outside the box. I thought it was Scooter Pie--seemed like the sort of thing he would do. My husband scrubbed the box until it shined, and I berated Scooter Pie again and again--like that would make a difference!--but the out of the box shit continued. We cleaned it everyday for a week, and the shitting on the floor continued. I thought one of them might be sick, but they'd just been to the vet and had received a clean bill of health and they both were using the box to pee. Our frustration grew.

Then one day I caught Boomer in the act. He sauntered into the closet and shit on the floor--he didn't even try to get in the box. The clue phone rang, and I took the call: he doesn't like jumping into the box anymore. He'll do it to pee because that's messy, but shitting on the floor is a piece of cake (so to speak).

So, we bought a new box--the biggest one we could find with a cover and a door. Once again we were a happy household. Then it began: leakage. Scooter Pie is so damn big and long that, well, you get the picture. So, what to do? Mopping the tile everyday didn't really appeal to me, and there wasn't a longer litter box to be found. Then it came to me: plastic.

Today I went to Home Depot and bought a sheet of plastic cut to fit the closet floor and a little sheet to fit inside the litter box. I've scrubbed the tile, cleaned out the box, put the little sheet of plastic in the back of the box, lined the floor with plastic, and set up a little trough to catch any leakage.

I love it when a plan comes together.

Although Forgotten, Not Gone

The Bill of Rights, those handy amendments that were adopted as a package on September 25, 1789, seemed to have been forgotten during the Bush administration. So this serves as a good reminder that while forgotten, they are still with us. They continue to protect US citizens. Remember them and evoke them when needed.

These amendments are a result of the debates on the adoption of the Constitution that focused on fears that, if drafted in its original form, the Constitution would open the way to tyranny by the new government proponents sought to establish. Folks with keen memories of the British violation of civil rights--both before and during the Revolution--demanded a "bill of rights" that would clearly define the immunities of individual citizens. If I recall correctly,there were originally 12 amendments, but the first two were dropped--I think they had something to do with the number of congressional representatives.

We all need to remember and to thank those in attendance during the debates on adopting the Constitution; their work continues to serve us well.

On Today's Document from the National Archives.

Friday Cat Blogging

Here's the ever-handsome Boomer:

Smarter than a 5th Grader

I read a piece at Yahoo News today detailing a study from researchers at the Yerkes National Primate Research Center at Emory University that demonstrates "monkeys can recognize photographs of other monkeys they know . . . ." This study shows monkeys "can both detect differences in faces and figure out if they've seen them before, researchers report."

Now, this should not come as a surprise; anyone who pays close attention knows non-human animals are intelligent, communicative, and emotional. What's interesting is that we now have evidence that supports such claims. Monkeys in the study were able understand that the two-dimensional images--photographs--represent things and animals from their lives.

On the other hand, teabaggers don't understand that the Boston Tea party was about taxation without representation--not taxes themselves; birthers refuse to acknowledge that President Obama is a natural born citizen; elected Republicans think blocking legislation is somehow legislating; and Sarah Palin can see Russia from her house.

 I would rather live in a world populated by monkeys.

I'll Drink to That

http://www.archives.gov/historical-docs/todays-doc/index.html?dod-date=1205#2009

Reality Bytes

I have finally tossed in the towel and acknowledged the reign of the Windows OS. To be more specific, I had XP installed on my MacBook Pro and will run it when absolutely necessary using Parallels 5. I have long resisted such a move, but have been forced to admit resistance is futile: there are some programs I need to use whose programmers/companies have yet to offer universal versions.

 I feel like a traitor to the cause.

"Christmas Sweater" Gets A Cold Shoulder

Think Progress reports that Glenn Beck's live show based on his book The Christmas Sweater failed to generate much of an audience when it premiered last night. Although the show was simulcast to "hundreds of theaters across the country," ticket sales were dismal: "Beck sold only 17 tickets in Boston, another 17 in New York, and just 30 in Washington, DC." I have to wonder what video of some other event Fox will use to beef-up, ah, I mean report this turn out?

Diagram of Where Rosa Parks was seated

via www.archives.gov

Read more at An Act of Courage, The Arrest Records of Rosa Parks