Being Ridden By The Hag

I guess you are going to have to be from the Carolina Lowcountry to understand this one.  I have been for several months now, ridden by a Hag.  What, you may ask, does that mean?  Well, I will try to explain.

Coming from the Lowcountry, I have been blessed with knowing a lot about the folklore from that area.  My grandfather and one of my great uncles were very good about telling us stories when we were children about ghosts or hags (which are evil spirits). 

Hags are these horrible creatures that go around at night trying to find their way in to houses to distrub the sleep of humans.  Being ridden by a Hag means that you do not have restful sleep.  You end up having horrible dreams and feel more tired when you wake than when you laid down the night before.

Hags like to come into your house after the lights are out and they leave in the early morning before sunrise.  Before they can come into your house, they have to slip out of their skin, which they leave outside the door to slip back into when they leave.  If they find a good victim, they will come back night after night after night.

For months now, I have been a good victim.  I have had many dreams.  I wake up exhausted and I drag around all day.  The only good sleep I get is the sleep on the couch before I actually go to bed and turn out the lights.  My dreams range from people taking things from me, people tresspassing, violence (I dreamed that my soon to be ex tried to kill me), car wrecks, falling, hanging off mountains, buildings. etc…  I cannot describe some of the dreams…they just simply frightened me.  Some were actually about being lost.  Whatever they were, they wore me out figuratively and literally.

There are very few ways to stop Hags.  You can paint around your windows and doors with blue paint.  Hags cannot cross over the color blue.  Or you can put salt around your doors and windows.  Since I live in an apartment, I can do neither of these. 

So, I have had to resort to another way…I pray everytime I wake up.  This calms me down enough to go back to sleep only to have the dreams again. 

Of course, I know that my unconcscious mind is trying to tell my conscious self something.  I have to figure out what it is.  Then the dreams will go away.

Relationships

Our minister is preaching a series of sermons on relationships between parent and children.   However, the therories that he is presenting for parenting can also be used in all important relationships.

The first week he spoke on “focus”.  It is important to focus on “where you want to be” and not get bogged down in the everyday things that can come along.  For parents, this can be things like getting a child to eat or a teenager to listen to reason…etc.  Pastor Mike says if you “focus” on the ultimate goal for the child, say for them to grown up being a worthy citizen and a good God fearing christian, your prephrial vision can take care of the other things. 

It is rather like driving.  You look ahead to where you are going.  But, you can also see the things and areas around you and be prepared for what might come in your path.

Today, the sermon was on love.  And fighting for the person you love not necessarily fighting with the person you love.  It is not about control…it is about influence.  When you are a parent, the goal is to always let your child know that no matter what, you love them.  You have to set rules and regualtions but when you come to a point where you and your child disagree….let them know first and foremost that you love them….that what you are saying is for their own good.  Some times the fighting for the relationship will be very similar to fighting with your child.  Love is the difference between fighting for control and fighting for a win/win situation where you both go away knowing that love is the most important part.

This is also true in a husband/wife relationship.  Both of the partys should be fighting for the relationship not fighting for control.  If you are not on the same page with love and working together being the ultimate goal, well the, the relationship is doomed.  No one should try to control another.

Even God has given us free will.  He lets us know how much He loves us.  He wants us to love Him.  And, He gives us rules to live by to show that love to others.  Why would our relations with other humans be any different?

It is not about who is right and who is wrong.  Or about who is stronger and who is weaker.  Or about always getting your way or always giving up.  It is about love first and foremost.  If you have that, you want the best for your child or your mate.

Mischievious Mojoe

When I was a child, there was a plaque on our Doctor’s wall of a little dog with sad eyes sitting beside a bottle of spilt milk.  The quotation for the scene was “Who, Me?”  I get that same look from Mojoe everytime I catch him doing something that he shouldn’t.

Of course, Mojoe is the one with the angelic face.  Most of the time that I am around, he plays the innocent bystander to McGyver’s antics.  But, I know the truth.  While McGyver has his share of antics, he is a plain thinker.  He does not “puzzle” things out or “what if” anything.  He sees it.  He wants it.  He does it.  No pre planning or deep thought there.

Mojoe, on the other hand, reminds me of someone who thinks long and deeply before he acts.  Now I know why he spends so much time under the covers of my bed.  He is in there thinking our scenarios of things he wants to do and get away with.  I swear he must have one of those wipe off boards somewhere with X’s and O’s depicting his plan of action.  Where he hides it, I don’t know.

Some of his latest antics?  Well, he has taken to playing air hockey with his food.  He has always pulled the food out of the dish to eat it.  But, now, he has to chase it across the kitchen floor before it goes down the hatch.  He has also taken to dragging the food bowl around to different spots on the kitchen floor so he can practice his slap shot from different angles.  I am constantly finding bits of food on the floor and under the stove and refrigerator.  I am going to have to get a bowl too heavy for him to manouver. 

He also likes to get up on the kitchen sink and take my sponge.  The latest one has disappeared.  I do not know where it has gone.  I am sure I will find it shriveled up and hard place conveniently in my path on my way to the bathroom in the dark one night.  I have taken to putting my most current sponge back under the sink when I am through washing dishes.

He has taken pieces of my beautiful Christmas Cactus out of the pot and brought them into the bedroom.  I find them on the bed, in the bed and under the bed.  I try to rescue them.  Some times I can.  When I replant the stem in the pot, it will thrive.  Other times, they are either too shriveled or chewed up to save.

He likes to take the caps to my contact lens case.  I find, only the white one, is missing when I go in to take out my contacts at night.  What ensues is a search for the lid.  Often I find it hidden under on of the throw pillows that is littering the floor of my little den area.  Do I put the pillows on the floor?  Nope.  Mojoe likes to redecorate too.

He takes stuff out of the bathroom trash can.  I find Q-tips all over the house.  I have lost innmeral ink pens.  I am sure I will find them when I move.  They have been shoved under every piece of furniture that I have.

I have to admit that it is fun to watch Mojoe walking around the house with his latest prize in his mouth.  Anything that he can pick up, he does.  But, it is not amusing to find that he has taken something that I need when I actually need it.

Mojoe is the more agressive of the two also.  He will chase McGyver all over the house pinning him and making him cry “uncle” before he is released.  I have seen Mojoe, who is the smaller of the two, pin McGyver and hold him until McGyver cries with a yowl or a hiss.  The tufts of orange fur I am constantly picking up attest to the fact that some times Mojoe plays pretty rough.

He is also endearing.  He cannot really meow but he does make a noise.  Often when I am sitting at my desk, he will come and nudge me with his nose wanting me to look at him and give him a pat or two.  He will get up in my lap or on the desk and sit with me for a few minutes.  Then, he is off again for his next adventure.

So, I guess the old adage is true, “It’s the quiet ones you have to worry about.”

Funerals

My Uncle David, aged 91, passed away last Wednesday.  His funeral was on this past Saturday in Pawley’s Island, SC. I went down early on Saturday to be with family and friends. 

The funeral was set for 1:00 PM in the Presbyterian church.  While we were riding over to the church, my mother shared that someone she had spoken with wanted to know why we were having the funeral so early in the day.  She stated that she had merely said “that’s the way it is done here”.  I expressed that since the community was originally a farming community, funerals were held early in the day so that the farmers could get back to their chores before the end of the day.  Even though farming is no longer the norm in the area, the tradition has lasted even to today.

It was a true Southern funeral.  We arrived and were immediately ushered to the “family room” where other members of the family were waiting until the appointed time.  There were ushers at the doors of the chapel that seated those non-family members who had come to pay respect to the recently deceased.

The viewing had been held at the funeral home the night before.  The family received friends and loved ones from 5:00 to 7:oo PM.  They have started doing this rather than bringing the body home to have a traditional wake at the family home.  Still yet though, there are some who hold to the tradition of having the viewing at home.  After being taken to the funeral home for preparation, the body is transported to the family home to stay until being taken to the church for the funeral.  I still have dreams about my father in his coffin at our house.  So many people came to that old farm house that they broke the proch off the back of the house.

At the appointed time, the funeral director came in and lined the family up.  We were ushered to the door of the chapel and prosessed in much like those attending a wedding.  The friends and loved ones stood until all of the immediate family were seated.

Then, the funeral began.  We started with Joyful Joyful We Adore Thee.  Then there were Bible readings and some inspirational music.  After that my cousin, Michael, Uncle David’s son, took the podium and eulogized his father.  It was very touching and moving to hear a father described by a son.  It was obvious that there was a lot of love and respect for Uncle David.  It was also obvious that Michael had felt every word he spoke about the man who was his father.

Then, the minister arose.  He was at a loss because he did not personally know Uncle David.  So, he was relegated only to speaking of what had been told to him by family members.  To fill the time, he read sever poems about life and passing away.  He did a good job.

We then sang He Leadth Me, recited the Affirmation of Faith and sang Glory Be To The Father.  We were dismissed to go to the internment site in Sampit.  This is an old cemetary that has been the repository of many of our ancestors.  It sits across the road from the old country church that my grandparents and parents attended for many, many years. 

When we got there, we were early, arriving before the hearse.  So, I walked among the gravestones, stopping to read and say a little prayer for those who had gone before me.  I went over to my father’s grave and had a moment of silence. 

We waited and waited…then we found out that the hearse had had a flat tire on the way over to the internment.  When that happened, those around had come to the aid with several people stopping and others coming out of their homes to provide assistance.  Those Southerners still have a respect for the dead and tradition.  Chivalry is not dead in the deep deep south.

Family members recounted the incident.  They said that at first no one realized why the hearse had slowed down.  They were totally impressed by those willing to stop and help a “dead” stranger to them.  The family members also said that it was Uncle David’s way of saying that he “wasn’t quite ready yet”.

Making Things Better….

Having changed careers from the world of finance to the world of animal health, I have stepped from on type of customer care into another.  Thankfully, my customer service skills and my “want to help” nature have helped me to make the transfer from one type of work to another without too many bumps.

The hardest thing so far has been practicing triage by phone.  I have had to learn all of the questions to ask to give the most information to the Vet so that he/she is ready to treat the animal once they arrive at the destination.  I also have had to learn how to calm down excited clients because they are worried about their animals.  The calming down thing has not been as hard as figuring out what questions to ask about the ailing animal.

Thankfully, most of our clients are pros and experienced in giving the needed information.  There are some though who either are new to the large animal world or not very observant or caring.

Animals are totally dependent on their owners.  Smart owners know the nuances of their charges much as they would know the nuances of their children.  They tell me that their animals are depressed or ADR (aint doing right).  They describe them as being less alert or playful.  Those that are usually full of life can be listless.  What parent has not seen these symptoms in their own children.  However, unlike children, animals cannot tell us when they are not feeling well.

It is up to me to get the Vet there and “make things better”.  It is important that I transfer the information from the client to the Vet.  If the information is not taken down correctly, or the wrong address is given, it can delay the Vet in their quest to help the ailing animal.

I enjoy my new job.  I like being able to help.  I ask about the animals when the Vet calls in to ask if there are more ailing animals.  I want to help make things better.

Connecting

This is a subject that has been on my mind for a while.  There are many different kinds of connections.  So many in fact, that my mind races through tons of them as I ponder on what to write to get my point across.  Today, I am limiting myself with connections that involve feelings and emotions.  That is what is foremost on my mind when I speak of connections.  The kind that touch you heart and soul.

I am most ‘hungry” for the affore mentioned type of connection.  It is elusive to me right now.  Touching heart and sould releases tons of emotions.  They can be “good” emotions or “bad” emotions.  They can make you smile and beam or tear up and cry.  They can be tons of energy or cause you to stop and pause.

I guess I am ever the “romantic” hoping for that true connection.  It has nothing to do with being snatched up by a knight on a white horse and taken off to live happily ever after.  Romanticism to me is not a heaving bossom and hot sweaty nights.  And, I don’t think the actual “romantic” poets and authors had that type of connection in mind either.

We all search to be connected.  Some of us need to be “connected” to ourselves.  We really don’t know who we are or what we want..We just “drift”, never admitting what we need or want because we really don’t know what we need to want. 

Some of us desire to be connected with others.  To know that we truly have a soulmate out there somewhere that just “gets” us completely and totally.  If you deny this feeling long enough, it can really and truly get you in trouble.  Someone can swoop in and “sweep you off your feet” not because they want to connect with you but because they recognize they can use you until you catch on.

Isolating oneself can result in loss of connection.  That can also get you into trouble.  You lose touch.

You can also connect with someone you never meet.  Words traded over email or with letters or over the phone can lead to two people connecting on a level more than physical.  These can last for years or just a day. 

So, where does all this rambling go?  My desire to connect?  I am ready to get out there again and try and find those wonderful, special and very dear connections.  I am again beginning to be hopeful that there is a connection out there for me.

The Next Right Thing

I have a lot going on in my life right now.  Not only have I been displaced from the house and space that I had grown to love very much, but I have been denied the company of my best friend, Ranger Dog.  That is only the beginning of all the changes that have been going on.

I have a wonderful counselor and advisor here on this earth.  Of course we all have our heavenly father as a wonderful counselor and advisor.  I have been lucky to find one “with skin on” too.  She listens to me rant and rave.  She listens to me express my anger and my fear.  She helps me to interpret my dreams and encourages my desires.  Without her and her wonderful, artful advice, I would be still struggling to “find a way”.

To me, “finding a way” up until now, has been much like being put in a round room and told to find the corner.  I would go round and round, running into the various pieces of furniture in the room, ending up with bangs and bruises and nothing else to show for the effort.  I was always nervous, edgy and wondering when the next bad thing was coming down the pike to hit me full on.

Slowly but surely, I have learned to listen to my counselor’s voice and also to the still small voice of God.  He sent her into my life.  And, she freel acknowledges that she is His instrument to be used to help me.  It is a wonderful relationship.  She is the one who said the above phrase to me when she was counseling me on what I should do next. 

Finding the “next right thing” is not easy.  It requires a lot of thought and prayer.  It is something that is not to be taken lightly.  Yet, it can almost always be as obvious as the sunshine on a summer’s day.  Or, it can seem as hard to grasp as the wind in the trees.  It is always there….It can be seen….You don’t need special glasses or wisdom beyond your years.  You simply need to stop, look and listen.  (Just like how you were taught to cross the road.)

If you don’t stop, you can run head on into something that can cause a lot of damage and pain.  If you don’t look, you can sometimes pick the wrong thing because you are grasping for anything in your reach.  If you don’t listen, you never hear that still small voice that will often lead you to the “next right thing”.

Before now, it was way to easy for me to run headlong into anything in my way, trying to get past what was staring me in the face.  Because I was always searching, I often either came up empty handed or with a tool that I could not use.  Not to mention how often I was beaten, battered and bruised by heedless actions for not listening to the voices of wisdom.  Now, I endeavor to try my best to do the “next right thing”.

In order to do the “next right thing”, you have to focus on the here and now.  You cannot think about what was or what might be.  You can “learn” from the past and “look” forward to the furture.  But, in order to do the “next right thing”, you have to be here and it has to be now.  Choice of the “next right thing” will be obvious only to those who take the time to seek it.  It is good advice but very hard to take.  It is a learning and growning experience like no other.

Playing with food

I think that the phrase, “don’t play with your food” must have been coined by someone watching cats eat.  Mojoe has the “corner” on how to play with one’s food.  He uses it as a source of amusement not only for himself but for me too.

I feed the boys dry cat food.  It really is better for them because it prevents tartar from forming on their teeth.  Occasionally, I will give them some canned food as a treat.  However, they mostly get dry.

McGyver is all business when it comes to eating.  He starts “calling” at about 5:30 each morning.  When I say “calling” I mean that he is letting me know that he is up and it’s time to eat.  He walks through the apartment making a noise that sound like what a human playing “Marco Polo” would use.  He is determined to get louder until he wakes me up.  If I don’t get up soon enough, then he starts jumping on and off the bed until I give in and get up.

I usually come out to the kitchen where I find the food bowl in the middle of the floor.  I pick it up, empty and refill the water, which usually has little fish or chicken legs floating in it (more on this later).  I also put more dry food in the other side of the bowl.  I have a bowl that has two compartments, one for water and one for food.

I feed the cats Meow Mix.  It comes with little fishes and chicken legs.  When water is applied, they grow three times in size and become mushy.  They are really not very appetizing to me or to McGyver but Mojoe loves them that way.

After McGyver has eaten his fill, Mojoe takes over.  There is no fighting.  There is no competition.  It is an accepted process.  First McGyver eats a little, then Mojoe gets to eat.  That is when the fun starts.

Mojoe will put his paw in the dry food and extract a piece.  This, he uses as a hockey puck and pushes it across the floor franticly chasing after it.  First batting it one way and then the other.  He pounces, he jumps, he throws the food in the air.  Then, he will stop and “crunch” it.  After a few seconds, he grabs another piece and the game is on again.

When Mojoe tires of chasing his food, he starts putting it in the water.  There he lets it sit until it swells and gets soft.  Then he “fishes” it out and eats it.  He will even wait until I empty the water into the sink and fish the mortsels out of the drain. 

When he tires of dunking his food, he then starts dragging the dish around the kitchen floor.  I will find splashes of water here and there.  I find bits of food all over.  I am not sure why he moves the bowl.  Maybe it’s because he wants a different point of view when he eats.  Or maybe he just does it because he can.  Or maybe he is imagining that he is actually hunting down prey before the “kill”.

Regardless of the reason why he does what he does with his food, Mojoe has playing with his food down to an art.

Watching The Fur Fly

I have always heard the phrase above.  I have often imagined what that must look like.  Watching fur fly for a heated battle.  Well, I got to experience it first hand.  My boys are really getting serious about this WFF thing.

McGyver has been talking smack to Mojoe so much that good old Moe decided to take him up on the threats.  On Saturday morning, I witnessed Mojoe chase McGyver around and around the house.  Each time he caught Mac, he would jump on the boy with full fledged furry.  Mac was hissing and slapping to no avail.  There were even a few caterwals that could only be described as someone crying “Uncle”.  Those were made to no avail, Moe was going to get his point across.

I never thought that Moe was the stronger of the two.  I still don’t think he is.  However, he is the craftier and more determined of the two.  It may be because Mac outweighs him by a few pounds.  It may be that he just got tired of all the teasing.  I don’t know what caused him to be so determined to get his point across…but I think he did so.

Things are back to normal here at the apartment.  Well, at least what one can call normal for us.  The only exception is the Mac is not teasing Moe as much.  I think he has learned his lesson on that subject.

WFF Update

Thought I would give you all an update on the current WFF, World Federation of Felines, sports organization.  The boys have been working to create a new sport…it is to be half boxing and half wrestling.  It is interesting watching them develop this new sport.  There are many trials and errors to determine which moves work best together.

So far, I can give you a sketch of what it will ultimately be like.  The match starts out with the boys boxing with each other.  The face each other and sit on their hind legs and swat at each other with their paws.  Or some times, they stand and box with one paw. 

Each of them takes and gives a few blows before one of them will jump over the other’s head and make a run for it.  This is just a ploy though.  The runner will suddenly turn and face his opponent and catch him in surprise.  With ears back and tail switching with determination, the runner is ready for the full face attack.  The pursuer is caught off guard because he expects a chase.  He is faced with slowing down and preparing for a crash.

When the crash happens, they each grab for purchase on the other.  The fall over and begin to wrestle.  Here is where they practice many of their holds to see which one works best.  They also bite and scratch.  The ultimate goal is to grab a throat hold and force the other into submission.

There is a count one is declared the winner.  Then they separate and begin the process all over again.  They try this sport on all types of surfaces….the bed, the floor, the couch, the cat tree, the kitchen counter, the bathtub…  You name it, they have tried it.

It seems that surprise attack is one of the aspects that they are still working out.  How this part will work as part of a spectator sport, I am not sure.  However, the art of surprise is definitely part of the process.  A farovite place is in the bathroom behind the shower curtain.  That can be a disadvantage if one tries to push the other into the tub.  This is especially dangerous if the person happens to be in the shower and the water is running.  I think that is like counting coup for Indians. 

I am still not sure how the point system works.  I am also not sure how many matches you have to win to be declared champion.  Those details are still being worked out.  Hopefully soon, I will be able to provide a score card.