Stormy night

Spring has arrived, and as they say, April showers have begun to buffet the Midwest. It is thundering now, and I can hear the sudden downpour.  It is a time of contemplation.  It is a time of meditation and purging and cleansing…

It is time to write again.

It struck me that I haven’t written in months, yet my mind has been many places worth writing about.  Physically, even, I’ve been many places. My life as a guest speaker in the aquarium club circuit has taken off, and so I’ve been traveling. Not to terribly exotic places, yet, but even engagements around the state have me on the go enough to be exhausted.  So much to see and to do; always. I’m…terribly exhausted, in general.  On top of my usual mental woes, I’ve discovered a nasty OCD habit worsening.  Now, I look at my food wistfully, as if it weren’t actually in front of me and ready to consume. As if it were in the pages of some 50’s cookbook I scanned once upon a time. There’s this mental block, and I struggle to get around it to stay alive at times.  Which is highly detrimental. I require my energy reserves now more than ever.  The brain can be a fickle thing.

It strikes me in my quest for human contact, a particular thought this evening: I am a stubborn woman.  I am incredibly stubborn.  I know I should look after my basic needs above all else, yet here I am, all ambitious and junk.  Choking on an oreo cookie, because the nerves have gotten to me. I feel like the walls are closing in and I’m running on fumes, at times.  At other times, I feel so happy and accomplished and fulfilled.  That is not now.  Right now, like any other stormy night, I am lonely.  I’ve a trusty cat companion, who provides sweet kisses and not-so-sweet mischief.  But I’m stubborn, and stubborn women rarely submit to men.  It’s a shame, too.  Because I really thought I liked men.  It is a manly thing to be dominant, and I refuse to submit to even my own physical limitations.  So why would I submit for a lover??  I won’t, though nature almost dictates I must.  Human nature cannot evolve fast enough…Not on this night, and probably not ever.

I ponder what my life will be one day. I never imagined it would be what it is now.  For instance, I never thought such basic things like eating would be a challenge or that I would be on a wait-list for anxiety treatment while simultaneously booking talks and trips.  It may be telling, however, that I often think I wouldn’t be alive if humans weren’t so prone to saving their weak.  I think my body is frail, and my genetics not the best. Though I consider myself weak in many regards, I am not the slightest bit reserved in my convictions.  This is apparent. There was a time I might’ve changed myself for a man, but I didn’t. Now I know I couldn’t.  Though women being strong willed and empowered is encouraged nowadays, it still doesn’t solve a residual dominance men expect to exert. They subconsciously desire dutiful women who look pretty for them and bare children. The reality may be that I scare men off with my convictions and stubbornness without even trying. If that’s the case, I suppose I could imagine more cats in my future….

Stubbornness will be the death of me.

 

 

 

 

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Pilling Cats and African Soft Fur Rats

Throughout the day, I have an assortment of tasks to perform.  Almost all are pet-oriented.  My cat was diagnosed with a heart condition at a young age and if I can get the pills down, it is beneficial for him.  That’s always an if, because he is prone to fighting me on them and when I’m frantically trying to tackle my own crazy agenda, I don’t have all the time in the world to fight back.  Today, I decided to coax him and resume the more rigid pilling schedule we once upheld.  I have always tamed my animals with love, and as I cradle him I shower his face with kisses and hold him firmer as the pill sticks to the roof of his mouth.  I know that it is unpleasant and I know the struggle with forcing your body to take the medication.  It took me most of my life to learn to take pills and even today I still slip up, so I decided to keep that in mind and held him tight.  Pilling a cat is not an easy task, but today it went rather smoothly, with no foaming at the mouth to speak of.  One pill, two pill and he was done.  I rewarded him with wet food and rewarded myself with the notion that “hey, doing these things and following through is worth every bit of allowable time.”  I think that is a primary reason why I’m always late- that deep understanding of proper time use.  It’s hard to know what in your life is worth the extra few minutes, but my cat’s health is assuredly one of those things.  I would do anything for a best friend of mine.

kronos pill

Speaking of best friend, my human friend of three years has become ill recently.  It’s just seasonal sickness, but it’s still concerning and just as equally “no good.”  I made it a point to cheer him up- “What could I get for you to help with the symptoms?” I asked.  “I have no money” he replied.  This is a ridiculous thing, to think he needed to pay me, I would help and I adopted a fierce determination to do so.  I braved a mild blizzard to gather items any sick patient would endorse- pain killers, cough drops, soup, crackers, water, tea.  It began immediately to brighten my day at the thought of the possibilities.  Working two jobs, I’m more prone to having pocket change, though not the hefty kind.  I can make a lot happen with a little, and it has always been my gift to give.

As for the second half of this post subject, I have begun a secondary breeding project in my home, and it has been on-going for the last few months.  I’m raising a herd of African soft fur rats, focusing on selective breeding for high-white coloration.  I’m having a lot of fun with it, and in 2015 I plan to attend reptile shows to balance out the cost of raising them and also to justify their production via the feeder mouse market.  This is a different species than a rat or a mouse typically encountered in the pet trade.  It tends to be a bit more vicious and bitey than it’s kin, but then with the right amount of taming down, they really aren’t so bad.  And they are painfully adorable; a worse pain than any bite!!  It hurts the heart to see those bulgy eyes, but I suppose not in a bad way.  I’m interested to see how far this takes me, for breeding them came off a whim when I was told this rat was not easily handled- I think there is a real place for them to become an accepted pet like a hamster or gerbil or house mouse.  I had a little fun after I delivered my friend’s care package and picked up some clearance ceramic barns for hides for my rat colonies.  I think it compliments them well.

asfr

Ah yes, the story of my life- Pilling cats and African soft fur rats!!