It’s still dark out and here I sit drinking coffee. I’m thinking about my kids and grandkids, hoping they are all safe and soundly sleeping in their beds. This Christmas, like quite a few in the past, we will not be together. But then again, they are all grown with families of their own. We’re spread out over the country, from Missouri to Georgia, Ohio to New Jersey, we are a scattered bunch.
It seems like just yesterday when they were all small, the oldest three in their teens and the youngest one a cute little blond toddler, all of them anticipating tonight when they would get to open at least one gift. Then tomorrow we would have a dinner and just enjoy each other, watch football if there was any, listen to my youngest son play the guitar and laugh at the youngest daughter talking so excitedly that her words all ran together! Now they are all grown and living far away, some with teenage children of their own.
We all think of days gone by. Sometimes they seem like the only good days there will ever be are the ones long past.
Oh well, I’ll move along, just melancholy today.
Later.
Wednesday, December 24, 2014
Tuesday, December 23, 2014
Jingle bells, that cat smells…..
So, I fell asleep and was snoozing away when what do I hear……..the sound of jingle bells!! Yup, JINGLE BELLS!! I thought to myself, damn, that old elf is early this year!! Hmmmmm, maybe this means I get a Christmas Gift! Yay me!!
I spring to my feet only to see……..Judy’s cat had once again taken off his collar and was batting it, bell and all, around the floor. So much for jingle bells, so much for Santa deciding to show up early…..or at all. I swear to you this stinking cat (literally, but more on that later) picked up his collar, bell and all, shook his head and leapt over the back of the couch.
I continued to hear the tinkle, tinkle of the bell for a few minutes, then……silence. Until……..
A snort, long and drawn out, erupted from beneath the covers, deep and full bodied, it washed over me like an ocean wave, growing in tone and volume only to fade away into nothing. Sitting there I watched as the blanket rose slightly and this sound, deep and raspy, almost a growl, grew in volume and tone once again until it crested into a long, drawn out, rumbling like a small locomotive laboring uphill. It began tapering off, diminishing to a soft growl only to once again grow and blossom into an indescribable racket. I began to wonder if I had awakened on the set of a new Stephen King cemetery movie.
Then from the other room a sound akin to thunder assaulted me, rhythmic and loud, it sounded almost like the Tell-tale Heart was attempting to give away my murderous thoughts. Thump, thump, thump, thump…..all accompanied with a rumble that would put to shame any echo of thunder across the hills.
Suddenly the smell hit me. Clawing up my sinus cavities only to slam into my brain with a force that caused my stomach to clinch and my teeth to grit. Even the noise from the couch, which could only be described as the death throes of a large, overweight elephant with asthma, faltered and then dwindled to a stop. Four pounds of wrinkled skin wrapped around a fifty pound attitude that had been producing those sounds had awaken. A small, round, fur covered head poked out from under the covers, big black eyes squinting and unfocused, to sniff once, twice then the little square nose crinkled and a puff of air escaped indicating that there was nothing of interest laying outside the nice, warm blankets. As suddenly as it appeared, the little red head was gone, disappearing back into the dark land of sleep and comfort that lay under the nice warm blankets.
Once again sounds that should only be made by a three hundred pound man with a deviated septum began to echo through the room. I sat there, amazed and disgusted as the smell continued to assault me. Although the little red dog didn't seem to think it was so bad, it wasn't diminishing and my eyes had begun to water as my stomach rolled, threatening to add it’s own odor to the noxious fumes flooding the house.
It wasn't a difficult job to follow the stench to the source. I knew what it was, there was only one thing on the face of the earth that smelled that bad………cat shit. Yup, no doubt about it, the big, grey cat had once again made a night deposit and failed to properly seal it away in the box of magic sand. Quaking with a combination of fear and dread, I approached the large, spoiled feline with trepidation. He stared directly into my eyes as he reached out one large, round paw to scratch at the metal filing cabinet and produce the rhythmic rumble that had sent my mind to the depths of old Stephen King movies.
Knowing that he had not only awakened me with his Santa impersonation, but had terrorized me with the stench that could only be produced in the bowels of a cat’s internal shit factory, he gave his paw a quick swipe with his tongue, stood up, stretched and sauntered out of the room, secure in the knowledge that I, his lowly human slave, would dispose of said shit and the accompanying foul smell.
Having done my duty as the servant of all things feline, I headed back to my pallet to catch some sleep.
Yeah, right, sleep, that’s what I would catch. Between the lingering sulfur scent of the nightly deposit and the symphony of grunts, growls and whistles that escaped the little ball of attitude under the blanket, I knew sleep was a far off goal that would not be reached so quickly.
The grey reincarnation of Baby Face Nelson, sat staring into space, the end of his short, fat tail twitching like a crack addict going through withdrawal. Across the room lay his intended victim, sleeping peacefully and totally unaware of the attack that was approaching. With a leap that would have done an Olympic athlete proud, the grey striped demon launched himself with the precision of an armed missile. Screeching and fur flying ensued. Screams like tortured metal filled the air as the two felines tumbled and rolled across the floor.
It was too much! Armed with a spray bottle and a rolled up newspaper I began to extract the vengeful punishment upon the two hate filled creatures. The mayhem proceeded as the three of us ran, jumped and screeched around the house. The end result was the yellow kitten hid behind the couch while the grey demon ran with the speed of the guilty to the bedroom of his mistress where he was sure to receive love and pity from his still half asleep mistress.
Sleep had fled on the wings of feline destruction. I stumbled into the kitchen and reheated a cup of coffee left over from the night before no sense in wasting good coffee and it had been good, now it was strong, thick and black, just what I needed after the chaos of the morning.
Now I am sitting here, sipping on my first cup of fresh coffee, plotting my revenge for being assaulted in so many ways before the sun had risen. My heart is still thudding a little after the early morning turmoil that our own personal Santa Claws had caused.
Maybe later, while he is sleeping off the after effects of his morning war effort, I will jingle his bells!!
I spring to my feet only to see……..Judy’s cat had once again taken off his collar and was batting it, bell and all, around the floor. So much for jingle bells, so much for Santa deciding to show up early…..or at all. I swear to you this stinking cat (literally, but more on that later) picked up his collar, bell and all, shook his head and leapt over the back of the couch.
I continued to hear the tinkle, tinkle of the bell for a few minutes, then……silence. Until……..
A snort, long and drawn out, erupted from beneath the covers, deep and full bodied, it washed over me like an ocean wave, growing in tone and volume only to fade away into nothing. Sitting there I watched as the blanket rose slightly and this sound, deep and raspy, almost a growl, grew in volume and tone once again until it crested into a long, drawn out, rumbling like a small locomotive laboring uphill. It began tapering off, diminishing to a soft growl only to once again grow and blossom into an indescribable racket. I began to wonder if I had awakened on the set of a new Stephen King cemetery movie.
Then from the other room a sound akin to thunder assaulted me, rhythmic and loud, it sounded almost like the Tell-tale Heart was attempting to give away my murderous thoughts. Thump, thump, thump, thump…..all accompanied with a rumble that would put to shame any echo of thunder across the hills.
Suddenly the smell hit me. Clawing up my sinus cavities only to slam into my brain with a force that caused my stomach to clinch and my teeth to grit. Even the noise from the couch, which could only be described as the death throes of a large, overweight elephant with asthma, faltered and then dwindled to a stop. Four pounds of wrinkled skin wrapped around a fifty pound attitude that had been producing those sounds had awaken. A small, round, fur covered head poked out from under the covers, big black eyes squinting and unfocused, to sniff once, twice then the little square nose crinkled and a puff of air escaped indicating that there was nothing of interest laying outside the nice, warm blankets. As suddenly as it appeared, the little red head was gone, disappearing back into the dark land of sleep and comfort that lay under the nice warm blankets.
Once again sounds that should only be made by a three hundred pound man with a deviated septum began to echo through the room. I sat there, amazed and disgusted as the smell continued to assault me. Although the little red dog didn't seem to think it was so bad, it wasn't diminishing and my eyes had begun to water as my stomach rolled, threatening to add it’s own odor to the noxious fumes flooding the house.
It wasn't a difficult job to follow the stench to the source. I knew what it was, there was only one thing on the face of the earth that smelled that bad………cat shit. Yup, no doubt about it, the big, grey cat had once again made a night deposit and failed to properly seal it away in the box of magic sand. Quaking with a combination of fear and dread, I approached the large, spoiled feline with trepidation. He stared directly into my eyes as he reached out one large, round paw to scratch at the metal filing cabinet and produce the rhythmic rumble that had sent my mind to the depths of old Stephen King movies.
Knowing that he had not only awakened me with his Santa impersonation, but had terrorized me with the stench that could only be produced in the bowels of a cat’s internal shit factory, he gave his paw a quick swipe with his tongue, stood up, stretched and sauntered out of the room, secure in the knowledge that I, his lowly human slave, would dispose of said shit and the accompanying foul smell.
Having done my duty as the servant of all things feline, I headed back to my pallet to catch some sleep.
Yeah, right, sleep, that’s what I would catch. Between the lingering sulfur scent of the nightly deposit and the symphony of grunts, growls and whistles that escaped the little ball of attitude under the blanket, I knew sleep was a far off goal that would not be reached so quickly.
The grey reincarnation of Baby Face Nelson, sat staring into space, the end of his short, fat tail twitching like a crack addict going through withdrawal. Across the room lay his intended victim, sleeping peacefully and totally unaware of the attack that was approaching. With a leap that would have done an Olympic athlete proud, the grey striped demon launched himself with the precision of an armed missile. Screeching and fur flying ensued. Screams like tortured metal filled the air as the two felines tumbled and rolled across the floor.
It was too much! Armed with a spray bottle and a rolled up newspaper I began to extract the vengeful punishment upon the two hate filled creatures. The mayhem proceeded as the three of us ran, jumped and screeched around the house. The end result was the yellow kitten hid behind the couch while the grey demon ran with the speed of the guilty to the bedroom of his mistress where he was sure to receive love and pity from his still half asleep mistress.
Sleep had fled on the wings of feline destruction. I stumbled into the kitchen and reheated a cup of coffee left over from the night before no sense in wasting good coffee and it had been good, now it was strong, thick and black, just what I needed after the chaos of the morning.
Now I am sitting here, sipping on my first cup of fresh coffee, plotting my revenge for being assaulted in so many ways before the sun had risen. My heart is still thudding a little after the early morning turmoil that our own personal Santa Claws had caused.
Maybe later, while he is sleeping off the after effects of his morning war effort, I will jingle his bells!!
Monday, December 22, 2014
Nollaig Shona Duit
In case you’re wondering about the title, it’s Gaelic for Happy Christmas to you. Irish Gaelic that is. I hope I’ve spelled it correctly, I never could spell it correctly, or even say it! There isn’t much Gaelic spoken here, as a matter of a fact I believe I’ve only ever heard it in person once in my entire lifetime. It’s a complicated and, to me, a beautiful language.
So, Ireland, the homeland of many,many American Citizens. There are a bunch of us that can trace our roots back to the green fields of Ireland. Of course, most of us would have to trace those roots back to about a dozen or so other countries as well. America is and has been the true melting pot of genetics.
If you’re wondering why I’m rambling on about this, it’s simple. I’ve been sitting here thinking about all the things we did to celebrate the Christmas Holidays when I was a child. Having had the childhood I did, I was exposed to different celebrations and rituals. Yes, rituals. You see, I was bounced around a lot growing up and I had the pleasure, although it didn’t seem like pleasure then, of experiencing the Holidays in many different places. My family, whom I have always lived with, was extensive and varied. We have Irish, German, Cherokee and Shoshone, as well as Welch and English, in our heritage. There is even a little bit of other stuff that we’re not real sure of, although I am going to do the DNA project so we will know soon enough!
Some of the things we did included having “Little Christmas” which has its basis in the Catholic religion. It seems funny to me now because I grew up hearing that Catholics weren't Christians even though I attended Catholic schools. Yup, paradox. Anyway, Little Christmas is actually Epiphany whish is January 6th. Since my sister was born on January 7th, we usually celebrated it that day with gifts for her and small gifts for everyone else. Little Christmas was when we usually got the one thing we wanted most, instead of getting it on Christmas Eve or Christmas Day. I didn't get to celebrate a lot of Christmas’s with my parents and sister, so I didn't get to do the Little Christmas thing often. Although one rememberable time was when I received a 10 speed bike I had wanted forever!
We also did things like put a lit candle in the window on Christmas Eve and let it burn all night. It was to “light the way” for Mary and Joseph. Something that always confused me was WHY we had to light the way for people from thousands of years ago. Of course I've always been a heathen, so no one was surprised when I asked that very question.
We usually had caraway cake and fruitcake with delicious icing on it. We also had a huge dinner with lots of traditional foods, including turkey, ham, potatoes of every imaginable type, sometimes goose or pheasant. It was the best dinner of all the dinners of the year!!
When I got to do Christmas with the other side of the family things were a little different. Frohe Weihnachten were the words for Happy Christmas there. We would bake spice cookies, stolen and of course the ever loved Anise cakes and cookies. We would do gingerbread houses and have lavish trees, Der Tannanbaum, were adorned with every imaginable type of decoration. There was always an Advent calendar or wreath at that Grandma’s house, she called the wreath Der Adventskranz, and she would bake and bake and bake for us. There was little gifts that were given throughout the month and that Jolly Old Elf was displayed dressed in everything from flowing green robes to white robes with wings and Nutcrackers of every size and shape were shown off. Stille Nacht was sang loudly and often while we roasted chestnuts and and drank spiced cider, usually after having serenaded the neighbors with more carols than they wanted to hear. There wasn't as much emphasis on the Christian part of the season, it was more on the parties and dancing, singing and cooking. It was the lively side! They would drink and fight and dance and love, they would give of themselves with unabashed relish for life! The German side was the side that you either loved or hated, but either way, you were involved! We always opened our gifts on Christmas Eve and slept in on Christmas Day. For Christmas dinner we would have apple and sausage stuffing, which was my favorite, ham, potato dumplings, cooked cabbage with either apples or sausage and more desserts than you could ever dream of eating. I loved the years we got Weiner Schnitzel as well, I've always loved veal!
Both sides of the family would have a Yule log when I was younger. As they, and I, grew older that tradition ended, although I’ve never known why. We would save a piece of the log for the next year, insuring prosperity throughout the entire time. We also had holly and evergreens, as well as some type of Christmas village or Nativity. We also had the Celebration of Lights, which, although different from one side of the family to the other, included singing and a crown of lights worn by one special person. Almond cookies were a favorite by both sides of the family.
There were little things that confused me, like putting a saucer of milk out for the “wee ones” or opening the window on Christmas Eve. But it was part and parcel of the entire thing and excited the younger version of me as much as any gift or bright tree. My Southern side always lit a candle on the night of Solstice and we were ushered to bed with the words, Dream Well. Solstice was a time of quiet and introspection, although as I child I didn’t understand that. We would get a few stories about things that happened in the night if we dared to creep out, but other than that, it was no big deal.
On Christmas day with the Southern side, we would attend church, sometimes we would go to Midnight services the night before. It was a different sort of meeting than I was used to down there, instead of the foot stomping, shouting and singing that we usually imbibed in this service was more sedate and almost reverent. It was almost difficult to stay awake for it, although if I dared drift off I would get a sharp elbow to the ribs.
The Northern side didn't do the Church thing too much. But sometimes at Christmas my Grandma would sneak me out and we would attend Mass, which seemed funny to me, but only because the others in the family didn't go. I enjoyed it though and, because I did attend Catholic school for a while, I understood most of what was taking place. My Mother would have had a fit if she had known, but she never found out.
One thing that did strike me as odd was that neither side did anything special that could be traced back to their Native and/or Slave ancestors. I didn't understand that until I was much older, of course by then most of the elders were gone and it was up to us to carry on. Now I realize that there weren't any traditions from those two branches of the family because they adapted the German and Irish ways and churned it all together to produce the amazing Christmas Holidays of my childhood!
Merry Christmas y’all!
So, Ireland, the homeland of many,many American Citizens. There are a bunch of us that can trace our roots back to the green fields of Ireland. Of course, most of us would have to trace those roots back to about a dozen or so other countries as well. America is and has been the true melting pot of genetics.
If you’re wondering why I’m rambling on about this, it’s simple. I’ve been sitting here thinking about all the things we did to celebrate the Christmas Holidays when I was a child. Having had the childhood I did, I was exposed to different celebrations and rituals. Yes, rituals. You see, I was bounced around a lot growing up and I had the pleasure, although it didn’t seem like pleasure then, of experiencing the Holidays in many different places. My family, whom I have always lived with, was extensive and varied. We have Irish, German, Cherokee and Shoshone, as well as Welch and English, in our heritage. There is even a little bit of other stuff that we’re not real sure of, although I am going to do the DNA project so we will know soon enough!
Some of the things we did included having “Little Christmas” which has its basis in the Catholic religion. It seems funny to me now because I grew up hearing that Catholics weren't Christians even though I attended Catholic schools. Yup, paradox. Anyway, Little Christmas is actually Epiphany whish is January 6th. Since my sister was born on January 7th, we usually celebrated it that day with gifts for her and small gifts for everyone else. Little Christmas was when we usually got the one thing we wanted most, instead of getting it on Christmas Eve or Christmas Day. I didn't get to celebrate a lot of Christmas’s with my parents and sister, so I didn't get to do the Little Christmas thing often. Although one rememberable time was when I received a 10 speed bike I had wanted forever!
We also did things like put a lit candle in the window on Christmas Eve and let it burn all night. It was to “light the way” for Mary and Joseph. Something that always confused me was WHY we had to light the way for people from thousands of years ago. Of course I've always been a heathen, so no one was surprised when I asked that very question.
We usually had caraway cake and fruitcake with delicious icing on it. We also had a huge dinner with lots of traditional foods, including turkey, ham, potatoes of every imaginable type, sometimes goose or pheasant. It was the best dinner of all the dinners of the year!!
When I got to do Christmas with the other side of the family things were a little different. Frohe Weihnachten were the words for Happy Christmas there. We would bake spice cookies, stolen and of course the ever loved Anise cakes and cookies. We would do gingerbread houses and have lavish trees, Der Tannanbaum, were adorned with every imaginable type of decoration. There was always an Advent calendar or wreath at that Grandma’s house, she called the wreath Der Adventskranz, and she would bake and bake and bake for us. There was little gifts that were given throughout the month and that Jolly Old Elf was displayed dressed in everything from flowing green robes to white robes with wings and Nutcrackers of every size and shape were shown off. Stille Nacht was sang loudly and often while we roasted chestnuts and and drank spiced cider, usually after having serenaded the neighbors with more carols than they wanted to hear. There wasn't as much emphasis on the Christian part of the season, it was more on the parties and dancing, singing and cooking. It was the lively side! They would drink and fight and dance and love, they would give of themselves with unabashed relish for life! The German side was the side that you either loved or hated, but either way, you were involved! We always opened our gifts on Christmas Eve and slept in on Christmas Day. For Christmas dinner we would have apple and sausage stuffing, which was my favorite, ham, potato dumplings, cooked cabbage with either apples or sausage and more desserts than you could ever dream of eating. I loved the years we got Weiner Schnitzel as well, I've always loved veal!
Both sides of the family would have a Yule log when I was younger. As they, and I, grew older that tradition ended, although I’ve never known why. We would save a piece of the log for the next year, insuring prosperity throughout the entire time. We also had holly and evergreens, as well as some type of Christmas village or Nativity. We also had the Celebration of Lights, which, although different from one side of the family to the other, included singing and a crown of lights worn by one special person. Almond cookies were a favorite by both sides of the family.
There were little things that confused me, like putting a saucer of milk out for the “wee ones” or opening the window on Christmas Eve. But it was part and parcel of the entire thing and excited the younger version of me as much as any gift or bright tree. My Southern side always lit a candle on the night of Solstice and we were ushered to bed with the words, Dream Well. Solstice was a time of quiet and introspection, although as I child I didn’t understand that. We would get a few stories about things that happened in the night if we dared to creep out, but other than that, it was no big deal.
On Christmas day with the Southern side, we would attend church, sometimes we would go to Midnight services the night before. It was a different sort of meeting than I was used to down there, instead of the foot stomping, shouting and singing that we usually imbibed in this service was more sedate and almost reverent. It was almost difficult to stay awake for it, although if I dared drift off I would get a sharp elbow to the ribs.
The Northern side didn't do the Church thing too much. But sometimes at Christmas my Grandma would sneak me out and we would attend Mass, which seemed funny to me, but only because the others in the family didn't go. I enjoyed it though and, because I did attend Catholic school for a while, I understood most of what was taking place. My Mother would have had a fit if she had known, but she never found out.
One thing that did strike me as odd was that neither side did anything special that could be traced back to their Native and/or Slave ancestors. I didn't understand that until I was much older, of course by then most of the elders were gone and it was up to us to carry on. Now I realize that there weren't any traditions from those two branches of the family because they adapted the German and Irish ways and churned it all together to produce the amazing Christmas Holidays of my childhood!
Merry Christmas y’all!
December 22…
Today is the 356th day of the year, with only nine days left until we usher in 2015.
A bunch of shit has happened on this day in history, but that is true of every single day of the year. We humans have been around too long for there NOT to have been some serious shit happening every single day!
On this day in the year 69, yup you heard me correctly 69, Emperor Vitellius was dragged out of hiding, chased up some steps and basically turned into mince-meat. His killers cut off his head and paraded it around the streets of Rome!! Yup, how’s that for a good old Santurnalia decoration?? Of course, the Romans were so pissed off they couldn’t stop at simply killing the Emperor, they also did away with his son and his brother, and probably any and all male slaves, pets, livestock etc.
Good old Vitellius wasn’t some soft, sissified little Emperor. At least not at first. Oh no, he was a hard ass. He had been one of only two Consuls in the year 48, which basically means that he was a big shot during peace times and an extremely powerful military power during wartime. The “Consuls” were the HIGHEST office in the Republic, answerable ONLY to the Emperor and no one else. Of course it was also an appointed office and it was only for a year, but still, it made you a hot shot for the rest of your life.
If that weren’t enough to get good old Vitellius in the limelight, in either the year 60 or the year 61 (historians can’t seem to get their shit together on this one) he was assigned Proconsul to Africa!! Which means he left Rome, went to Africa and ruled in the place of the Roman Emperor for a year or so and then came home, with no one dying, no one running off, etc. He was basically the African Governor and they seemed to have liked and respected him.
After being a good Roman leader for all those years, someone had the great idea of selecting him to command the army of Germania Inferior, basically all of countries that surround the Mediterranean Sea. Yup, he was in charge of the largest Roman army that was in existence at the time!! And you know what, they really, really, really liked him!! He seemed like a good old boy to them, but of course you can’t be a good old boy and maintain order and discipline! Nope, you’ve got to give orders, not suggestions!
Anyway, the soldiers liked him so well they proclaimed him Emperor of the armies of Germania Inferior and Superior! Yup, the army decided he should be emperor! But then again, the transfer of power in Rome was never an easy thing, people HAD to die, and people did die!
Once he became the ultimate power in the world, his loyal followers found out he wasn’t what they had thought he was. He became, by all accounts, lazy, self-indulgent and so fond of eating and drinking that he grew to be morbidly obese. He’d even go so far as sent the Roman navy off to find rare foods he had heard about so he could eat himself into a stupor! All the while he was starving his own Mother to death!! Yup, he ate like a pig and the woman that gave birth to him had not a single morsel to eat.
For all of his laziness, he did manage, probably by accident, to do two important things that outlasted him. He put an end to the practice of Centurions selling furloughs and exemptions of duty to their men, something that was said “all good emperors” would (and did) do. And he also expanded the offices of Imperial Administration beyond the imperial pool of Freedmen so the lower class aristocrats could take up positions in the Imperial Civil Service. As a side note he also outlawed all astrologers from the entirety of Rome and Italy, and would execute any he came across. Yup, he definitely didn’t know what the stars held for his future. Good thing too!!
The armies of the East didn’t like the way this fat, lazy man was running the “known” world, so they deserted him and held up their own person for the title of Emperor, Titus Flavius Vespasianus, who by the way, established an dynasty that ruled the Empire for twenty seven years!! Yup, Flavius was the shit!!
Anyway, back to Vitellius. This fat coward decided he didn’t want to die, but then again, who wouldn’t, and tried to resign from office. The terms of resignation were drawn up, but some people weren’t happy about it and forced the fat man back to the palace to return the insignia of empire. Then he went and hid!! Yup, he hid like a frightened little rabbit. Didn’t do him any good though, nope, nope,nope!
Once the troops marched into Rome they searched him out, dragged him into the street and chased him to the Gemonian stairs, a dishonorable place to die. These stairs were the usual place of execution, and the bodies were using left to rot, not to mention be savaged by dogs and other carrion animals, in the full view of the entire Forum then thrown into the Tiber. Yup, it was a disreputable place to die! Especially if you were dragged out of hiding and chased like a dog only to be strangled and stabbed here!
That’s when they beheaded him and carried his head around town!! What a great way to celebrate a winter holiday!! Those Romans always went above and beyond, didn’t they??
Anyway, unlike poor Vitellius, we have nine more days to a New Year! Hopefully 2015 won’t involve being chased up some steps only to meet an untimely end!!
I think I’ll take the elevator from now on myself!!
A bunch of shit has happened on this day in history, but that is true of every single day of the year. We humans have been around too long for there NOT to have been some serious shit happening every single day!
On this day in the year 69, yup you heard me correctly 69, Emperor Vitellius was dragged out of hiding, chased up some steps and basically turned into mince-meat. His killers cut off his head and paraded it around the streets of Rome!! Yup, how’s that for a good old Santurnalia decoration?? Of course, the Romans were so pissed off they couldn’t stop at simply killing the Emperor, they also did away with his son and his brother, and probably any and all male slaves, pets, livestock etc.
Good old Vitellius wasn’t some soft, sissified little Emperor. At least not at first. Oh no, he was a hard ass. He had been one of only two Consuls in the year 48, which basically means that he was a big shot during peace times and an extremely powerful military power during wartime. The “Consuls” were the HIGHEST office in the Republic, answerable ONLY to the Emperor and no one else. Of course it was also an appointed office and it was only for a year, but still, it made you a hot shot for the rest of your life.
If that weren’t enough to get good old Vitellius in the limelight, in either the year 60 or the year 61 (historians can’t seem to get their shit together on this one) he was assigned Proconsul to Africa!! Which means he left Rome, went to Africa and ruled in the place of the Roman Emperor for a year or so and then came home, with no one dying, no one running off, etc. He was basically the African Governor and they seemed to have liked and respected him.
After being a good Roman leader for all those years, someone had the great idea of selecting him to command the army of Germania Inferior, basically all of countries that surround the Mediterranean Sea. Yup, he was in charge of the largest Roman army that was in existence at the time!! And you know what, they really, really, really liked him!! He seemed like a good old boy to them, but of course you can’t be a good old boy and maintain order and discipline! Nope, you’ve got to give orders, not suggestions!
Anyway, the soldiers liked him so well they proclaimed him Emperor of the armies of Germania Inferior and Superior! Yup, the army decided he should be emperor! But then again, the transfer of power in Rome was never an easy thing, people HAD to die, and people did die!
Once he became the ultimate power in the world, his loyal followers found out he wasn’t what they had thought he was. He became, by all accounts, lazy, self-indulgent and so fond of eating and drinking that he grew to be morbidly obese. He’d even go so far as sent the Roman navy off to find rare foods he had heard about so he could eat himself into a stupor! All the while he was starving his own Mother to death!! Yup, he ate like a pig and the woman that gave birth to him had not a single morsel to eat.
For all of his laziness, he did manage, probably by accident, to do two important things that outlasted him. He put an end to the practice of Centurions selling furloughs and exemptions of duty to their men, something that was said “all good emperors” would (and did) do. And he also expanded the offices of Imperial Administration beyond the imperial pool of Freedmen so the lower class aristocrats could take up positions in the Imperial Civil Service. As a side note he also outlawed all astrologers from the entirety of Rome and Italy, and would execute any he came across. Yup, he definitely didn’t know what the stars held for his future. Good thing too!!
The armies of the East didn’t like the way this fat, lazy man was running the “known” world, so they deserted him and held up their own person for the title of Emperor, Titus Flavius Vespasianus, who by the way, established an dynasty that ruled the Empire for twenty seven years!! Yup, Flavius was the shit!!
Anyway, back to Vitellius. This fat coward decided he didn’t want to die, but then again, who wouldn’t, and tried to resign from office. The terms of resignation were drawn up, but some people weren’t happy about it and forced the fat man back to the palace to return the insignia of empire. Then he went and hid!! Yup, he hid like a frightened little rabbit. Didn’t do him any good though, nope, nope,nope!
Once the troops marched into Rome they searched him out, dragged him into the street and chased him to the Gemonian stairs, a dishonorable place to die. These stairs were the usual place of execution, and the bodies were using left to rot, not to mention be savaged by dogs and other carrion animals, in the full view of the entire Forum then thrown into the Tiber. Yup, it was a disreputable place to die! Especially if you were dragged out of hiding and chased like a dog only to be strangled and stabbed here!
That’s when they beheaded him and carried his head around town!! What a great way to celebrate a winter holiday!! Those Romans always went above and beyond, didn’t they??
Anyway, unlike poor Vitellius, we have nine more days to a New Year! Hopefully 2015 won’t involve being chased up some steps only to meet an untimely end!!
I think I’ll take the elevator from now on myself!!
Sunday, December 21, 2014
Longest night
Imagine, it's cold, so very, very cold that the animals have all hidden away in their dens. The grass and plants are hidden under a deep blanket of snow and ice, and the rivers and springs have frozen solid.
You wake up at the usual time, your survival depends on your internal clock and it tells you that it is morning. Outside it is still dark, there is no sound, there is no movement, only pitch black darkness that seems endless. All around you your friends and relatives are sitting quietly, almost as if they are frightened of breaking the profound silence.
As you wait for the sun to peek over the hill, you are frightened by a sound far off to the west. Almost a scream combined with a rasping hiss, the sound echoes around you causing the women to hold their children a little closer, the elders to wrap their blankets a little tighter to their trembling shoulders. It is the Wendigo, circling the village in search of one unlucky enough to be outside on this, the longest night of the year. Surely the sun will return, frightening away the evil spirits of the cold, dark night.
Slowly the sky begins to lighten and the horrible hiss fades away. Venturing outside in the early dawn, your eyes fall upon the bloody footprints that circle the entire village. The return of Grandfather Sun has once again saved your loved ones from certain death.
Stories like this one that relay a fear of the cold and dark, were repeated across the world. Perhaps it wasn't a creature of cold, perhaps it was a jaguar of enormous size, or a crocodile that could swallow a man whole. Whatever the main character, the story line always included fear, not of the dark, but of what resided in the dark.
For the Northern Hemisphere, Winter Solstice was, and is, a reassurance that the Sun, with his life giving heat and light, was returning to smile upon his children again. Even though we, the modern world, realize that Solstice is actually the first day of winter, for the Native peoples worldwide shortest day was, and is, a time for celebration.
Although tonight would be long, tomorrow would possess a little more light. This is a time of promise, or renewal.
And so it is today. We know that tomorrow will be a little brighter, and tomorrow night a little shorter. Of course we know now that it is simply because of the tilting of the Earth on its axis as it spins in space. The sun hasn't gone anywhere so it cannot return. It is simply the way things are set up in this great, big universe.
Of course, knowing all of that doesn't really make a difference. It doesn't take the magic out of this time of year, it doesn't make the day any longer or the night any shorter. We are still filled with a sense of anticipation that although Winter is just beginning, the days ARE longer, there IS more light. We are heading toward Spring and the time of planting.
This feeling of anticipation is ingrained into our very souls. Our bodies just KNOW. Now, you could say it has to do with the gravitational pull or the lack of sunlight or even the fact that the calender says the New Year is just around the corner. But in your soul, you know better.
This is a time of celebration, and a time for dreaming. It is when our bodies and souls prepare themselves for the Winter that is still here and the Spring that is approaching so quickly.
So, whether you say it is Grandfather Sun, or the Holly King your soul knows this is the time of renewal.
Tonight, when you lay down to sleep, allow your soul to dream. Allow the future to dance though your mind, with the visions and promises of a new day at the end of a long, cold night.
Blessed Solstice everyone.
You wake up at the usual time, your survival depends on your internal clock and it tells you that it is morning. Outside it is still dark, there is no sound, there is no movement, only pitch black darkness that seems endless. All around you your friends and relatives are sitting quietly, almost as if they are frightened of breaking the profound silence.
As you wait for the sun to peek over the hill, you are frightened by a sound far off to the west. Almost a scream combined with a rasping hiss, the sound echoes around you causing the women to hold their children a little closer, the elders to wrap their blankets a little tighter to their trembling shoulders. It is the Wendigo, circling the village in search of one unlucky enough to be outside on this, the longest night of the year. Surely the sun will return, frightening away the evil spirits of the cold, dark night.
Slowly the sky begins to lighten and the horrible hiss fades away. Venturing outside in the early dawn, your eyes fall upon the bloody footprints that circle the entire village. The return of Grandfather Sun has once again saved your loved ones from certain death.
Stories like this one that relay a fear of the cold and dark, were repeated across the world. Perhaps it wasn't a creature of cold, perhaps it was a jaguar of enormous size, or a crocodile that could swallow a man whole. Whatever the main character, the story line always included fear, not of the dark, but of what resided in the dark.
For the Northern Hemisphere, Winter Solstice was, and is, a reassurance that the Sun, with his life giving heat and light, was returning to smile upon his children again. Even though we, the modern world, realize that Solstice is actually the first day of winter, for the Native peoples worldwide shortest day was, and is, a time for celebration.
Although tonight would be long, tomorrow would possess a little more light. This is a time of promise, or renewal.
And so it is today. We know that tomorrow will be a little brighter, and tomorrow night a little shorter. Of course we know now that it is simply because of the tilting of the Earth on its axis as it spins in space. The sun hasn't gone anywhere so it cannot return. It is simply the way things are set up in this great, big universe.
Of course, knowing all of that doesn't really make a difference. It doesn't take the magic out of this time of year, it doesn't make the day any longer or the night any shorter. We are still filled with a sense of anticipation that although Winter is just beginning, the days ARE longer, there IS more light. We are heading toward Spring and the time of planting.
This feeling of anticipation is ingrained into our very souls. Our bodies just KNOW. Now, you could say it has to do with the gravitational pull or the lack of sunlight or even the fact that the calender says the New Year is just around the corner. But in your soul, you know better.
This is a time of celebration, and a time for dreaming. It is when our bodies and souls prepare themselves for the Winter that is still here and the Spring that is approaching so quickly.
So, whether you say it is Grandfather Sun, or the Holly King your soul knows this is the time of renewal.
Tonight, when you lay down to sleep, allow your soul to dream. Allow the future to dance though your mind, with the visions and promises of a new day at the end of a long, cold night.
Blessed Solstice everyone.
Saturday, December 20, 2014
Scientifically love is insanity!!
At any given point in time, the creatures we refer to as human beings can, and do, cycle through dozens of emotions ranging from intense desire to dark, over whelming anger. It's amazing!! We are so complex and diverse.
Take, for instance, an intelligent woman who is suffering (yes, that IS the correct term) from the first bloom of NEW LOVE. This woman was, until recently, a driven, single minded person who was focused on creating the life she has always wanted. She has been to the depths of hell in previous situations, she has suffered and she has come back all the stronger for it. She is WOMAN, hear her ROAR!!
Then, out of the blue, Cupid, the diaper wearing little demon, decides to shoot this wonderful, independent woman in the ass with one of his little poison darts of chaos! Cupid decides that this woman would be better off if she were suffering from the insanity that is NEW LOVE.
So with the twang of a bow string, he sets into motion a complex and confusing array of emotions. This once intelligent, respected, driven woman becomes, in a matter of days, a starry eyed school girl who has forgotten the battles she has waged in order to become an independent woman.
Her heart races, her palms sweat, she is restless and totally obsessed with this one man, this one beautiful, loving, devoted man. You watch her and you see the same signs and symptoms of addiction you would witness if you were watching a drug addict!
She, like a druggie, ignores her responsibilities, doesn't have time to spend with friends/family, can't concentrate on anything, anyone, other than that one wonderful man. She spends her every waking moment thinking about him, being with him or making plans to be with him. She is obsessed to the point of distraction. All because a little arrow shooting psychopath decided to screw with her life!!
The illusion of Cupid shooting an arrow at a person and causing them to fall in love (have you ever noticed we call it FALL in love, there is a reason for that you know!) and forget who they are is actually a good one. Blaming it on outside influences is valid, especially when you consider what takes place in a human body during the first days of a new love.
Humans, particularly women, release an overabundance of chemicals when they first fall in love. These chemicals are addictive and can be destructive.
So here is the explanation for our behaviors when that psycho Cupid uses our asses for his poison dart practice.
First there is the LUST phase of love. During this time, when we want to tear each other's clothes off and go at it like addled teenage rabbits, our bodies are releasing testosterone and estrogen. This happens to men and women both. These two hormones should be called WHOREMOANS because they are essentially the street walkers of body chemistry! They have so many responsibilities in the bodies, yet all they can think of is humping like rabbits!!
Once these streetwalker hormones have us hooked on the amazing feelings we get at this point in the "relationship" our bodies decide to move on to Phase TWO of this heinous plan of Cupid's!
Phase two involves four main neurotransmitters called adrenaline, cortisol, dopamine and serotonin. This lovely little chemical cocktail causes us to basically act like obsessed idiots with no clue of what may happen next.
You see, it's like this, first falling in love activates our stress hormones adrenaline and cortisol. This little mixture is responsible for the pitter-pat of our hearts, the sweat that soaks our palms and the flush that colors our cheeks whenever we are in proximity of our love. Keep in mind that adrenaline is also what enables a mother to lift a car from her trapped child or the 90 lb weakling to kick the ass of the big, bad bully! It increases your breathing and your heart rate, sometimes to disastrous levels! Cortisol treats skin rashes and allergic reactions, it can (and does) also lead to depression, heart disease and high blood sugar. Hmmmmm, sounds like a killer combination doesn't it? Awwww, love.......
Dopamine, that lovely little neurotransmitter, stimulates the "desire and reward" part of our brains. It causes those afflicted with the love bug to have less need for sleep or food, increased energy, focused attention (think obsessed) and a rush of exquisite delight in the smallest details of our newly hatched relationship. Dopamine has the same effect on the brain as snorting the best cocaine you can find!! Sounds fun, don't it?!?!
Then there is Serotonin. Awwww, little Serotonin! Here is the chemical that is responsible for the temporary insanity that is New Love. Yup, this little gem is the reason we can't focus on anything other than that perfect man we have so luckily found. This one causes us to become so single minded that we forget our friends and loved ones, as well as slack off at work, daydream during meetings and forget to close the front door of our apartment. Too much serotonin can cause everything from diarrhea to seizures and too little causes everything from depression and anxiety to irritability and rage. People who suffer with OCD have too little serotonin. That explains the obsession part of New Love, right?
Finally we have reached Phase Three of Falling in Love. In this phase we are releasing yet two more hormones, only these two little ditties are the ones responsible for wanting to stay "forever". You see, now that our bodies have us addicted to all those feel good hormones, now it wants us to stay right here and suffer for infinity!
Oxytocin one of the chemicals that is released during the human orgasm. It deepens the attraction and makes us feel more "connected" to the one we are with. It causes us to want to cuddle. It is also the hormone that causes a mother to form such a strong bond of attachment with the child she has given birth to.
Research has shown that if the production of oxytocin is blocked the mother will reject her young!! It's a strong little bugger. It has been known as the "trust hormone". Yup, that is a lot of responsibility to but on one little chemical compound!!
Vasopressin is also a sexually released hormone. Only this one is releases AFTER sex! It is an important hormone is long term commitment. This one, oddly, controls the kidneys not the heart! LOL Imagine that, the KIDNEYS!! Yup, those organs use the same hormones to produce urine that the mind uses to form emotional bonds! LOL Sorry, I just find that entirely too funny!! It would be even better if it was the hormone that controls the large intestines, but .....anyway.
So there you have it. A proven, scientific reason for the insanity of the previously mentioned woman. She has every reason to act like she does, it is beyond her control!! LOL
Cupid, that heinous little shit, dips his arrows not in poison but in a potentially deadly mixture of human hormones. He is not a sweet little diaper wearing cherub, but a mad scientist bent on the continuation of mankind.
There should be an bounty on his head!!
Take, for instance, an intelligent woman who is suffering (yes, that IS the correct term) from the first bloom of NEW LOVE. This woman was, until recently, a driven, single minded person who was focused on creating the life she has always wanted. She has been to the depths of hell in previous situations, she has suffered and she has come back all the stronger for it. She is WOMAN, hear her ROAR!!
Then, out of the blue, Cupid, the diaper wearing little demon, decides to shoot this wonderful, independent woman in the ass with one of his little poison darts of chaos! Cupid decides that this woman would be better off if she were suffering from the insanity that is NEW LOVE.
So with the twang of a bow string, he sets into motion a complex and confusing array of emotions. This once intelligent, respected, driven woman becomes, in a matter of days, a starry eyed school girl who has forgotten the battles she has waged in order to become an independent woman.
Her heart races, her palms sweat, she is restless and totally obsessed with this one man, this one beautiful, loving, devoted man. You watch her and you see the same signs and symptoms of addiction you would witness if you were watching a drug addict!
She, like a druggie, ignores her responsibilities, doesn't have time to spend with friends/family, can't concentrate on anything, anyone, other than that one wonderful man. She spends her every waking moment thinking about him, being with him or making plans to be with him. She is obsessed to the point of distraction. All because a little arrow shooting psychopath decided to screw with her life!!
The illusion of Cupid shooting an arrow at a person and causing them to fall in love (have you ever noticed we call it FALL in love, there is a reason for that you know!) and forget who they are is actually a good one. Blaming it on outside influences is valid, especially when you consider what takes place in a human body during the first days of a new love.
Humans, particularly women, release an overabundance of chemicals when they first fall in love. These chemicals are addictive and can be destructive.
So here is the explanation for our behaviors when that psycho Cupid uses our asses for his poison dart practice.
First there is the LUST phase of love. During this time, when we want to tear each other's clothes off and go at it like addled teenage rabbits, our bodies are releasing testosterone and estrogen. This happens to men and women both. These two hormones should be called WHOREMOANS because they are essentially the street walkers of body chemistry! They have so many responsibilities in the bodies, yet all they can think of is humping like rabbits!!
Once these streetwalker hormones have us hooked on the amazing feelings we get at this point in the "relationship" our bodies decide to move on to Phase TWO of this heinous plan of Cupid's!
Phase two involves four main neurotransmitters called adrenaline, cortisol, dopamine and serotonin. This lovely little chemical cocktail causes us to basically act like obsessed idiots with no clue of what may happen next.
You see, it's like this, first falling in love activates our stress hormones adrenaline and cortisol. This little mixture is responsible for the pitter-pat of our hearts, the sweat that soaks our palms and the flush that colors our cheeks whenever we are in proximity of our love. Keep in mind that adrenaline is also what enables a mother to lift a car from her trapped child or the 90 lb weakling to kick the ass of the big, bad bully! It increases your breathing and your heart rate, sometimes to disastrous levels! Cortisol treats skin rashes and allergic reactions, it can (and does) also lead to depression, heart disease and high blood sugar. Hmmmmm, sounds like a killer combination doesn't it? Awwww, love.......
Dopamine, that lovely little neurotransmitter, stimulates the "desire and reward" part of our brains. It causes those afflicted with the love bug to have less need for sleep or food, increased energy, focused attention (think obsessed) and a rush of exquisite delight in the smallest details of our newly hatched relationship. Dopamine has the same effect on the brain as snorting the best cocaine you can find!! Sounds fun, don't it?!?!
Then there is Serotonin. Awwww, little Serotonin! Here is the chemical that is responsible for the temporary insanity that is New Love. Yup, this little gem is the reason we can't focus on anything other than that perfect man we have so luckily found. This one causes us to become so single minded that we forget our friends and loved ones, as well as slack off at work, daydream during meetings and forget to close the front door of our apartment. Too much serotonin can cause everything from diarrhea to seizures and too little causes everything from depression and anxiety to irritability and rage. People who suffer with OCD have too little serotonin. That explains the obsession part of New Love, right?
Finally we have reached Phase Three of Falling in Love. In this phase we are releasing yet two more hormones, only these two little ditties are the ones responsible for wanting to stay "forever". You see, now that our bodies have us addicted to all those feel good hormones, now it wants us to stay right here and suffer for infinity!
Oxytocin one of the chemicals that is released during the human orgasm. It deepens the attraction and makes us feel more "connected" to the one we are with. It causes us to want to cuddle. It is also the hormone that causes a mother to form such a strong bond of attachment with the child she has given birth to.
Research has shown that if the production of oxytocin is blocked the mother will reject her young!! It's a strong little bugger. It has been known as the "trust hormone". Yup, that is a lot of responsibility to but on one little chemical compound!!
Vasopressin is also a sexually released hormone. Only this one is releases AFTER sex! It is an important hormone is long term commitment. This one, oddly, controls the kidneys not the heart! LOL Imagine that, the KIDNEYS!! Yup, those organs use the same hormones to produce urine that the mind uses to form emotional bonds! LOL Sorry, I just find that entirely too funny!! It would be even better if it was the hormone that controls the large intestines, but .....anyway.
So there you have it. A proven, scientific reason for the insanity of the previously mentioned woman. She has every reason to act like she does, it is beyond her control!! LOL
Cupid, that heinous little shit, dips his arrows not in poison but in a potentially deadly mixture of human hormones. He is not a sweet little diaper wearing cherub, but a mad scientist bent on the continuation of mankind.
There should be an bounty on his head!!
Wednesday, December 17, 2014
Birds, squirrels and sunrise
It's another cold rainy day in good ole WV. Still no snow in sight, although I'm not sure that's a bad thing......well, other than the mud that is.
Anyway, I've been up for hours and hours, literally. For some reason these stupid birds seem to think that it's time to SCREAM, yeah, scream NOT sing, at the exact moment the sun rises on the Atlantic Ocean!! It can be dark as the grave and they start with their morning ritual of noise.
I've always thought that birds sang, tweeted, whistled, whatever. I thought only large, condor types screeched, well them and owls. But no, I was sadly mistaken.
You see, J has six "cute" little birds. Three lovebirds, which AREN'T lovable, and three cockatiels, who are also NOT lovable. And very rarely do any of them actually sing!! Usually the sounds that issue from their mouths are a mixture of screeches, screams, loud hateful whistles and, rarely, a song that they repeat incessantly!
If you remember the movie One Million Years B.C. with Raquel Welch, well imagine the sound that the pterodactyl makes as she dives down to snatch Raquel and flies off to feed her to the chicks. Yeah, that sound it what usually wakes me up!
For some reason these birds seem to think they are some prehistoric dinosaur/flying lizard things that have to screech and scream the sun up! It's God-awful!
And, if the screeching wasn't bad enough, when they DO actually sing it's the same song, which is a mix-up of the Mayberry theme and Jingle Bells, over and over and over and......well, you get the idea! It's enough to make a normal person insane and, as we all know, I am far from normal!!
As if the inside birds weren't bad enough, the outside ones are just damn rude! We feed them on the back deck, every single day I put out seed for the birds and corn for the squirrels. Even in the summer we do this, although the damn things could find their own food. Anyway, we feed them.
If I'm not up and have birdseed out at the correct time the damn birds fly around front and eat the outside cat's food. We have the fattest birds ever, also the laziest cat seeing as how she will lay on the bench and watch the birds eat her food, never attempting to catch one of them. Then when they have emptied her bowl she will scream at me to fill it because she's starving, don't ya know. Yup, let the birds (cat food on the hoof) eat her food (lazy cat food off the hoof) and then scream because she can see the bottom of the bowl!! Why she doesn't eat the damn birds I'll never know, but that's the way it is.
Anyway, the birds fly around front and then, once they have had their cat food appetizer, they come back to the deck and peck on the window! Yup, the little assholes will KNOCK if I forget to feed them!!
But, they are not the only ones that will knock on the back door. Oh no, they learned that particular skill from the fat, spoiled rotten squirrels (think the size of a small dog) that live and breed behind the house. Yup, the rotten little bastards will sit on their asses and knock on the door while looking for me if they don't have a ready source of corn outside. The worst part is that J won't allow me to shoot and eat the little fat bastards!! (I firmly believe that if we fatten them up the least they can do is sacrifice a couple of their brethren to my frying pan!!)
The point I'm trying to make is that I can't sleep in. NOT AT ALL!! NEVER!!
Between pterodactyl sounding inside birds, cat food stealing outside birds, fat, lazy, starving outside cats, and fat-ass squirrels knocking on the back window, sleep is a distant memory!!
Maybe if the squirrels get big enough they will start eating the birds that eat the cat food that makes the cat scream!! Then I will only have to worry about getting in a head shot before the fat bastards come for me!!
Anyway, I've been up for hours and hours, literally. For some reason these stupid birds seem to think that it's time to SCREAM, yeah, scream NOT sing, at the exact moment the sun rises on the Atlantic Ocean!! It can be dark as the grave and they start with their morning ritual of noise.
I've always thought that birds sang, tweeted, whistled, whatever. I thought only large, condor types screeched, well them and owls. But no, I was sadly mistaken.
You see, J has six "cute" little birds. Three lovebirds, which AREN'T lovable, and three cockatiels, who are also NOT lovable. And very rarely do any of them actually sing!! Usually the sounds that issue from their mouths are a mixture of screeches, screams, loud hateful whistles and, rarely, a song that they repeat incessantly!
If you remember the movie One Million Years B.C. with Raquel Welch, well imagine the sound that the pterodactyl makes as she dives down to snatch Raquel and flies off to feed her to the chicks. Yeah, that sound it what usually wakes me up!
For some reason these birds seem to think they are some prehistoric dinosaur/flying lizard things that have to screech and scream the sun up! It's God-awful!
And, if the screeching wasn't bad enough, when they DO actually sing it's the same song, which is a mix-up of the Mayberry theme and Jingle Bells, over and over and over and......well, you get the idea! It's enough to make a normal person insane and, as we all know, I am far from normal!!
As if the inside birds weren't bad enough, the outside ones are just damn rude! We feed them on the back deck, every single day I put out seed for the birds and corn for the squirrels. Even in the summer we do this, although the damn things could find their own food. Anyway, we feed them.
If I'm not up and have birdseed out at the correct time the damn birds fly around front and eat the outside cat's food. We have the fattest birds ever, also the laziest cat seeing as how she will lay on the bench and watch the birds eat her food, never attempting to catch one of them. Then when they have emptied her bowl she will scream at me to fill it because she's starving, don't ya know. Yup, let the birds (cat food on the hoof) eat her food (lazy cat food off the hoof) and then scream because she can see the bottom of the bowl!! Why she doesn't eat the damn birds I'll never know, but that's the way it is.
Anyway, the birds fly around front and then, once they have had their cat food appetizer, they come back to the deck and peck on the window! Yup, the little assholes will KNOCK if I forget to feed them!!
But, they are not the only ones that will knock on the back door. Oh no, they learned that particular skill from the fat, spoiled rotten squirrels (think the size of a small dog) that live and breed behind the house. Yup, the rotten little bastards will sit on their asses and knock on the door while looking for me if they don't have a ready source of corn outside. The worst part is that J won't allow me to shoot and eat the little fat bastards!! (I firmly believe that if we fatten them up the least they can do is sacrifice a couple of their brethren to my frying pan!!)
The point I'm trying to make is that I can't sleep in. NOT AT ALL!! NEVER!!
Between pterodactyl sounding inside birds, cat food stealing outside birds, fat, lazy, starving outside cats, and fat-ass squirrels knocking on the back window, sleep is a distant memory!!
Maybe if the squirrels get big enough they will start eating the birds that eat the cat food that makes the cat scream!! Then I will only have to worry about getting in a head shot before the fat bastards come for me!!
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