This morning our cat did not make a sound. His familiar sound of always being at the basement door waiting for us to let him up to start his day and have breakfast. He always annoyed us because he wanted to go out and roam the neighborhood, but I didn't like him to do that because the neighbors did not appreciate it and it was dangerous despite the fact that he was a fearless animal, who thought he was more a cougar than a house cat. He would run up the driveway to "attack" a dog. Guard his little corner of the world. Protect his family from whatever he perceived the danger to be. He was not good at meowing. We don't know why. When we found him outside, or should I say when he found us, that was one of the first things I noticed. He was not good at meowing. Maybe something happened to his vocal cords. He was a young cat, maybe 1-year-old, when my son, Andrew, found him. It was the only pet I ever had in my entire life if you don't count the brief two days, our puppy, King lived with us.




Most of the time, I found the cat annoying. He was not a lap cat. He was a gentle cat but a cat who knew he was the king of the world, and that us, mere mortals, had no insight into the things he knew. Most of the time, I found him annoying but I cried my eyes out when I knew the inevitable had happened. Although he wasn't sick to the naked eye, I have been observing different behaviors from him, so I did not feel completely surprised by it, but I am surprise that I am going to miss him so much.

He was just a cat, who stayed to himself, chased dogs, wanted to be feed wet food, and was happy that the humans he lived with were compatible with him.

We are going to miss you, Petey the cat!

A Poem from Rachel to you




Petey
Eat.
Sleep.
Wake up.
Cry.
Invited upstairs.
Escape outside.
Piss the neighbors off.
Who cares?
We never liked them anyways.
Come back in.
Eat.
Eat.
Beg For Food.
Sleep.
Love.
I don’t know.
Maybe.
Receiving Love,
Now that’s another story.
Kisses.
Hugs.
Intense Head Rubs.
You loved it.
I know you did.
Doing things that pissed mom off.
You might have loved that too.
You understood.
Didn’t you?
All that time.
Remember?
Back when you were a baby.
I think you loved our tuna cans then.
We loved you.
Then you were ours.
You always came back.
Except when you didn’t
A Gay Love affair
That’s what dad says.
I know you just wanted the breeze
In your fur.
Adventure.
You sought it,
Even if it was with a piece of string.



You made me happy.
You were happy,
Especially at the sight of our dinner.
When you sat at the table
Poking your head at the plate.
That made me laugh,
And while I am here.
Sorry.
For the Dress and the shoes.
You would understand.
I know you didn’t forget.
I won’t forget.
You're gone, but your
Presence is in my mind,
In this house,
In the complaint letter from
An anonymous grouch.
Fuck them. Live on.
Eat
Sleep
Eat
Eat some more.
Cat Nap
Forever.

Book 14 of 50

Annabel by Kathleen Winter

My rating: 4 of 5 stars

Annabel/Wayne are one in the same person. Born a hermaphrodite at birth in a rural part of Canada, where the men go away from their families for six months at a time during the 60's, when not much is known about his condition and medicine is on the brink of learning more and more everyday, Wayne is given a male persona by his father rather than a female one. How could one decide with an infant in their arms what gender to make them when they have the sexual organs to be either male or female? How could one make that decision with limited medical information and experience? It is a difficult position to be in for any parent.

This book is more than such about Wayne being born a hermaphrodite. It is about relationship. The one between a father and a son, the one between a father and a daughter, the one with a special family friend, the one between a mother and her child and the unconditional love she has for him/her, no matter what the decision, and the one between best friends.
It is also about how we look at ourselves from the inside out, and how our society perceives female/male participation in the society. It briefly touches on the genetics involved in being a woman, and how being softer in body mass makes females different.

I gave it 4 stars and not 5 because while it was very interesting and entertaining in the beginning, it lost momentum as it progressed. It is well written, and I recommend it for its interesting and unusual subject matter, being a hermaphrodite, and I recommend it for its mundane or maybe not so mundane subject matter, how we interact as humans through gender and perception.


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Thoughts on the Royal Wedding

What perplexes me is that while we say we are reaching for the ultimate equality in the belief that all men and women are created equal, we still seem to be mesmerized by the showy, opulent, and totally extravagant display of a wedding by an elitist group of people who deign to accept a commoner into their folds.

What is it about us that makes us accept these two opposing views? or do we?

Why do we still continue to pretend that being a Princess is a fairy tale, and that being a part of a fairy tale is not a difficult and sometimes unpleasant situation, and that the royals probably have less personal freedom than your average person despite all their connections and fortune.

For me, if you have seen one wedding gown, you have seen them all, and while Kate's is quite beautiful, the real beauty is the Westminster Abbey. It is mind boggling to think that human beings designed and created that masterpiece of architecture. Breathtaking!

Finally, I am thankful that I am not British because if I had to wear some (no any of) those hideous hats, I would just fall apart!

Let them eat cake!

Happy Easter

A little blast from Easter past. I miss these days and I don't miss these days.
Less work for me, and they have grown up so nicely, and as Chris Rock or Oprah
said the other day, "Parenthood is a journey."

Thankfully, I have enjoyed the results of mine so far!





Andrew (6) Rachel on my lap (about 8 months) Lillian (4) Easter: April 11, 1993

Book 13 of 50: FANTASTIC and IMAGINATIVE

13, rue Thérèse by Elena Mauli Shapiro

My rating: 5 of 5 stars

One of my favorite books of 2011!

I loved it!

"As I have carried this strange box through life and across the worlds, I have always intended to make a book out of it. This book now exists; you hold it in your hands. The Louise Brunet depicted within it is fiction; the real Louise Brunet is irretrievable. Still, she gave me the stars. I merely drew the constellations."

(afterword by the author, Elena Mauli Shapiro)

Louise Brunet and Trevor Stratton -- their lives are intertwined through time. Through keepsakes found in a box, Trevor Stratton unravels the life of Louise Brunet and takes the reader through an interesting period of time between "the Great War and the Greater War."

It is an extremely creative book with pictures of the mementos placed throughout the novel.


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How I am spending my Spring Break

I have been intrigued with the idea that the famous botanist, John Bartram, owned property that is now a part of southwest Philadelphia on 54th and Lindbergh and borders on the Schuylkill River. That he owned it almost 300 years ago is significant. It is 3 miles west of center city Philadelphia, and as you can see through the trees, you can see the Philadelphia skyline, the refineries across the rivers, and the Bartram projects across from his original homesite.

It is one of the things I can cross off my bucket list. I think I captured some beautiful shots of the beach, the gulls, and the geese too. If you are planning to go to see something similar to Longwood Gardens, you are not. It is only 45 acres and mostly wild vegetation and wildflowers (commonly known as weeds to many of us), but nonetheless beautiful.

My honey and I enjoyed our date immensely.

Earlier in the week, I spent the day with Justin and Joey. As you can see they enjoy their Aunt Brenda's love of cupcakes. Watching my calorie intake is proving a little bit of a challenge, but I am still down 18 pounds and ready to tackle the next 18.

Enjoy the slideshow.

Spring Cleaning

I have been Spring Cleaning and I stumbled upon some pictures that needed to be organized and I found these precious ones among them.

1st picture: Don holding Andrew, Jennifer, Grandmom, Mom, Carol with Meghan
Andrew's first Easter
2nd picture: Lillian, Rachel, and cousin, Meghan
3rd picture: Me holding Rachel, Andrew, Don with Lillian (1992)
4th picture: Rachel with Lillian
5th picture: Don holding Rachel
6th picture: My three munchkins

Excited

This week, I decided to print out my blog from the beginning. I thought it would be a good record of what has been going on in my life for the last few years. I am having it printed and bound. I think this is really cool and I am excited about it. I deleted all my archived posts and now there are posts from January 3, 2011 and on.

To My Mom and Grandmom

You are the first person to love us.

Your eyes gaze into ours,
Our baby fingers and little toes tingle with the feeling of belonging to someone.
It is a feeling that you never outgrow.

Your support and nurturing helps us to
surmount any obstacle the world puts in our path.

You are the person who thinks we are beautiful, smart,
and funny even on the days when we are not.

You are always on our side and you have the uncanny ability to make
everyone feel unique.

You know the secret that love is timeless.

It existed before we entered the world and it will comfort us
after you are gone.

You know the secret that love is infinite, and that a mother’s love passes
from one generation to the next.

For love is the strength and the cure for all things earthly.

For a mother’s love is a heavenly gift to be cherished throughout eternity.

We will always love you and keep close to our hearts all
We mean to one another in this live and the next.

April 13, 2011

At 7:43, on April 13, 1989, Lillian Cecelia Fry, my beautiful and wonderful daughter was born. Happy 22nd Birthday, Sugarplum! and four years ago, on Lillian's 18th birthday, my mom, Cecelia Rita McPherson, passed away. Two significant days forever interwined in my heart. I miss you Mom. I love you Lilly!

The Witch's Daughter by Paula Brackston

My rating: 3 of 5 stars

A sweet young woman living in the 1400s, has her family struck down by the plague leaving only her mother alive to protect her from getting the dreaded disease. A natural born healer and midwife, her mother finds herself powerless against the evil disease and she turns to the town warlock, a purveyor of dark magic, for a solution.

Her dear mother trades her daughter's return to health for her daughter's soul. Sounds like a version of Goethe's Faust story, a recurring theme in literature. Not many days pass when a Witchfinder enters the village, and Bess' mother along with the town midwife are pegged as witches and carted off to be hung. When Bess find herself the next target of the witchfinder, she decides that trading immortal life in exchange Gideon's affection and possession may not be such a terrible fate.

After making the decision to accept immortal, she decides that she will not use her powers, especially for evil purposes. The book opens up in modern day England where the witch's daughter has now made her home and a new teenage friend, Tegan. She revels her powers and her story to the young girl in three separate stories that span a 600 year period, where throughout this time she has been escaping from Gideon, who was left behind angry and determined to get Bess back. The story ends with the two enemies meeting, and a conclusion to their love/hate relationship is finally reached.


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Crisis in Public Education

I am not a public servant! I am an employee of a public school. I pay my taxes: local, state and Federal, and support the district I work in.

Rhetoric and cliches do not solve a problem that has existed for more than thirty years in this country. Until both sides are willing to examine the failures, the solutions, and the needs and stop talking about how more money or less money will solve the problems of public education we are doomed to continue to repeat the same mistakes and continue to do irreparable damage to all the youth of this country, not just the ones living in poverty.

We are not a democracy. We are a republic. We elect people to represent us, but that does not mean they always make decisions that benefit all of us. We are not a democracy. Many people in this country do not vote, so it is only the will of some of the people.

We are not a democracy. We flip-flop between Republican and Democratic candidates and elect people who really do not think to much too the left or the right of moderate opinion, and then we sit around for eight years and blame the previous administration for the mess that we are currently in. Messes are not made overnight, but they certainly can flared up in a hurry.

We are not a democracy. We elect individuals who are so far removed from the reality of what goes in the trenches that they cannot make accurate decisions for improvement and for accountability.

We cannot say that if we lose public education we lose our democracy. Very little about how the country works or the economics of our society and the global one are taught in schools. Students come out barely understanding what this country was built on, and how to preserve our ideals. Students are not trained to be productive citizens once they graduate from high school, and in many cases, when they graduate from college.

Our society is hurting. We have many poor people in our society who have been generational poor, and those children are the ones who suffer the most, and they suffer in our public schools. I see it on a daily basis. I see children who have hopeless family situations, and an educational system that takes years to address their behavioral, social, and learning problems.

We cannot say that there are good employees and bad employees in every job situation. It is unacceptable to believe that this okay when you are dealing with a child's life and future.

Many public schools are failing their students. Not because they can't pass the standardized tests, but because they do little or nothing to help them overcome their generational poverty and we will not be an educated citizenry if our public schools continue to neglect this issue.

We have people in Pennsylvania who call our system educational apartheid, and when they refuse to allow reform or entertain the thought of vouchers or charter schools or alternatives they are in turn suppressing the very group of people they are claiming to be suppressed by the others.

We are not a democracy. We have two groups of people who stand a little to the left and a little to the right of the issue, but we have no one who thinks out of the box and improves the entire system so that we can help more.

We are failing as a nation as long as our students in generational poverty never see a way out, never have a way to take their own destiny in their hands, to be accountable for their own future, and we will continue to listen to the rhetoric of not enough money, too much money while both sides let these children fail.