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Ramblings from a Southern liberal, Boomer, single parent, grandmother, reunited birthmother, cancer survivor, pop-culture observer, retired teacher

Most dramatic lymphoma posts are from June 2002 - February 2003 archives.

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The Waking

I wake to sleep, and take my waking slow.
I feel my fate in what I cannot fear.
I learn by going where I cannot go.

We think by feeling. What is there to know?
I hear my being dance from ear to ear.
I wake to sleep, and take my waking slow.

Of those so close beside me, which are you?
God bless the Ground! I shall walk softly there,
And learn by going where I have to go.

Light takes the Tree, but who can tell us how?
The lowly worm climbs up a winding stair;
I wake to sleep, and take my waking slow.

Great Nature has another thing to do
To you and me; so take the lively air,
And, lovely, learn by going where to go.

This shaking keeps me steady. I should know.
What falls away is always. And is near.
I wake to sleep, and take my waking slow.
I learn by going where I have to go.

--Theodore Roethke


Joy's Updates - Straight from the Horse's Mouth.
Thursday, May 25, 2006  
The Horror

My cat Brigit who is a blonde diva killed a bird last night. It was flying around the patio and banged itself into the glass storm door which caused it to fall on the patio. She was already out there enjoying the night air and pounced on the disoriented little bird as soon as it hit the concrete. Cats don't just kill anything but play with it a while first. I went to the door to see what was going on and saw her with the bird in her mouth while it made pathetic, screechy, scared noises. She wanted to bring the bird in the house, but I wasn't falling for that again. I've had birds and mice in the house because a cat quickly ran in before I noticed something in its mouth. Then it was my problem eventually - dead or alive. No thanks! I had to listen to the sounds of Brigit's victim for a while and then nothing. I checked this morning and didn't see any sign of a dead bird, so maybe it got away. It was capable at times during all this, so I can hope. Cats get bored with their prey when they die and leave them there most of the time because the fun is in the hunt and capture.

One time an ex-boyfriend was visiting and started yelling for me to come make my cat Arlo stop torturing a bird. He said, "He just lets it go, plays with it, and gets it again! It's awful! He's an animal!" Well, yes.

2:23:00 PM

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