And so it is May. But Also… Kittens

At the beginning of May (actually for a long time before that, but for the purposes of this story it’s the recent part that matters…) we were down to a two cat household. Lacey moved out years ago and just decided she doesn’t live here, she now is an outside cat and lives at the neighbor’s house. I still put flea meds on her and give her hairball treats on the occasion she stops by… but she refuses to come inside. I’m pretty sure Asher is the problem for her as her “screw you guys, I’m running away” mentality perfectly coincides with him.

Sally, the long haired black and white cat, saw the new family down the street move in and IMMEDIATELY decided she wanted a home without Wilson in it, I think. I literally have handed them her vet records and the whole thing is that official, official. Both cats still run up for pets and stuff randomly- there are no hard feelings- but they refuse to consider our house home anymore. Weird and insulting, but whatever ladies, you have agency so I support your right to use it, you know?

So anyway, we really are technically down to two cats and so I let my 17 year old get a kitten. And then THIS happened, all in one weekend.

Yeah. WHAT THE HELL, UNIVERSE.

So as SOON as I let the older one get a kitten, the universe decides to toss a 4 week old stray kitten at us on a walk home from school with my youngest. Sure that meant we did kinda have to catch him (or her?) but… we did.

And now we have two kittens.

Grey tabby point one is Monty (short for Montreal, I am told), and the all black little goblin is Goose. The stray spent one night meowing and hissing and then it took 3 hours wrapped in a towel and being tamed by my 17 year old to turn into the cuddliest little goblin the world has ever known.

I don’t know y’all… I prove how fiscally irresponsible I am on the daily, it seems. Asher does not love them but doesn’t hate them. He also is glued to my side lately, I’m sure ensuring I am not replacing him. Never you fear buddy. They can’t do this after all:

Monty is way more chill.

Goose is aptly named as we’re under constant goddamn attack. This is cute… for now.

But also- it isn’t this… the girls are taking on the kittens more than I am.

In other news:

The snake tattoo is now fixed- huzzah! Transformation didn’t come easily, but we got there. New artist is great and I’m just thrilled all around.

One thing though is you have to keep fresh tattoos clean and not exposed to cat hair or dander or bacteria… so I’m wearing lots of long sleeves up in here. Luckily the weather has allowed for it as it’s been rainy and cooler than normal.

As mentioned literally one second ago… its been raining… which means the weeds have gotten out ahead of me- but I’m slowly catching up.

I don’t have many pictures and have both a cat and a kitten on me right now so I don’t want to go outside and get more… but I do have one pic.

Exhibit A on “proof you need to just say outloud what you want to the universe”- my garden concrete sphere. These were common on graves in the late 1880s and for a while afterwards, and I said I wanted one… and soon after that I actually found one at an estate sale. Sure, it doesn’t HAVE to be a grave globe, but was this most likely on someone’s grave before? I mean… probably. It is exactly the right size and patina for it to have been one.

But I show it here because it had gotten to the point you couldn’t even see it behind all the weeds in that bed… soooo… ta-da! Only 9/10 of the garden to go!

And I haven’t been as on top of the gardening because I’ve had to travel for work, yes, and the weather, yes, but also because I’ve been doing some mock up flowers for my friend’s daughter’s wedding. Good thing she likes damn near the only style I can pull off.

I am having fun doing these.

My friend asked if I’d consider it, I agreed gladly, and then she called me in a panic a few days later because the wedding is May 16th and Lucas passed away May 19th and she worried that was insensitive of her to have not taken into consideration. And frankly- THANK YOU FOR EVEN REMEMBERING, FRIEND! It’s crazy to me how many people mark birthdays in calendars but not death dates. It means so much to get a text on my hardest day of the year, or have someone bring it up in conversation- being seen like that in grief is damn near everything. When I am at funerals now I try to set a reminder in my phone that repeats annually- so I can check in with people. To let them know I remember and that their person mattered and is not forgotten. I try.

But, in answer to her question on if she was asking too much- I carry my grief like a weighted vest these days, not like a precarious armful of heavy rocks… it is different. The load and weight are more evenly balanced and distributed. My shoulders and core are stronger for carrying of it, and because of it.

I carry it differently.

I carry it better.

And don’t let ANYONE ever tell you it doesn’t get better- fuck all the grief literature that says that very thing. It can. It does. That shit is possible. I promise I promise I promise I promise… it is possible. You will never be the same but it won’t always be Edmund Monk’s The Scream either.

So anyway. I told her I appreciated her consideration here, but that I actually looked forward to the project during a hard month, and that my marriage has brought me more joy in my life than I ever thought possible, and was only a positive thing to me to remember and celebrate. And so a wedding… was totally fine to navigate and work on even that close to my own particular D-Day.

May has been a bit weird, but as the weather is still wet and cool (third fucking mention) the lizard brain hasn’t kicked in yet with the anxiety and panic to the extent it usually does this month when the weather is hot (as that was what it was like when Lucas died)… I’m sure it will come. And when it does I will try to meet it- even it- with gratitude. All that panic and anxiety that floods the system is the brain’s underlying systems trying to keep me alive- that stupid, stupid little lizard brain buried back there. And I may not like it’s methods much, but I want to be alive- and so I appreciate it’s efforts- unnecessary and detrimental as they actually are.

I am, in spite of all those words, and in spite of them being true… still dragging myself through this later spring- sure you can tell from the weeks I’ve spent away from here. I am not like skipping along through the wildflowers or anything. This too is to be expected. And I try to go easy on me, new to the practice as I am.

The posts I’ve been collecting over the past few months (above) kinda reflect that.

What is all that healing for, if not to use?

On the topic of: other shit I do these days:

I am still doing my Stretch and Movement classes- though I find I only make one class a week these days- maybe commitments will stop conflicting with my Tuesday and Thursdays soon. Birdie has started joining in.

I also have mowed the back, and so can find the throwing knives I bounce… and so have started practicing this again. There is a very particular itch that is scratched by throwing something very sharp, very hard, and hearing a thunk as it hits wood. I took a pic of my best set yet from the other day.

Am I good at it? No. Not yet and maybe I never will be. It kinda isn’t the point though, I find. That picture up there was the rare time I landed all of them, and on the target too (shed is a little worse for wear)- so lemme not put on airs here. But I am better then when I started- so perhaps thats the measure I’ll allow here. And sure, it is a LITTLE “you’ll put your eye out!” But whatever. I am 46. I can do what I want and I’d rock the shit out of an eyepatch ala Kill Bill if I need to.