Look what we found…

R(ac)oonmate Part III

Within just two days of two guys stepping up and volunteering their time and efforts to help where pest control has thus far failed, we have evidence to support my case…

Evidence beyond doubt of a raccoon’s living with me:

Further evidence to support my belief and argument that it had become a family living with me:

Appropriate reaction to evidence:

“D’aaaawwwwwww!!!”

So, we’ve only one captured so far, but they are so darn cute, these babies!

Almost makes the whole thing immediately forgives me.

(Actually, I’ve already forgiven the raccoon, but maybe don’t tell anyone about that yet…)

There are still more to gather – they ran off to the far side of the house, and then light ran out for the day, so the search had to stop… also, rain is expected, so it might be a bit before the walls can be opened up again (since it is done from the outside of the house).

The saga is coming to a close, but not before we’ll have to deal with a “monster rat” seen under the house today…, so there’s still a bit more to go, in addition to the raccoons.

Hopefully, all goes well, and the critters all move out!

As for now, signing off – goodnight!

Post-a-day 2019

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Tax dollars…?

Just a quick thought here tonight:

I was thinking just yesterday, after I purchased my feminine hygiene products at the store, how I paid the standard 8.25% sales tax for Texas on the items.

I wondered briefly at how certain items (e.g. raw food items) are tax-free, and began to ask why feminine hygiene products weren’t tax-free.

And then it occurred to me that they needn’t be tax-free, because they are, in fact something people purchase, which is the whole point of sales tax, after all.

Therefore, since women can’t exactly avoid being women, which includes menstruation, and it is not acceptable by any means to walk around dropping blood all over the place in public, and women therefore need some sort of feminine hygiene items, would it not make sense that women have an ever so slightly higher vote as to what to do with those tax dollars they are paying?

There doesn’t seem to be anything that comes to mind for me that men have as necessity, at least that doesn’t balance out with a similar version for women (e.g. shaving)…, so the whole menstruation thing seems to stand alone with these extra tax dollars paid by women.

(For that matter, I guess pregnancy falls into it, too, but it can be avoided naturally and easily, whereas menstruation can’t, so it is kind of different… however, when the government wants the population to grow, it makes sense to have financial incentives [which, I think, are kind of in place here, but nowhere near the degree of other countries with their children-having people’s financial situations].)

Therefore, women ought to have a little extra sway in voting on how that money gets used by the government.

I know that isn’t really at all how things go, and I fully admit many flaws with the idea, but, in terms of sales tax alone, isn’t it a bit funny how this actually makes a tiny bit of sense, after all, despite how silly it is? ๐Ÿ˜›

Just a fun thought I had yesterday and today – hope you enjoy it!

Post-a-day 2019

My birthday

It’s a special birthday for me this year.

It seems like the few people I really would love to have spend the day with me are all otherwise occupied slash unavailable on my birthday this year.

I would like to shuff this feeling of inadequacy and being unloved…, as well as the feeling of just not bothering to do anything for my birthday at all, since they can’t be part of it….

Perhaps I need just to go ahead and pity myself and have a great big, emotion-releasing cry, and get it all felt and out of my system, and then I can readdress how I want to celebrate my life this year.

It’s funny how, even at the thought of that, a miniature version just happened, and I’ve even started glimpsing ideas of things I’d like to do to celebrate life this year. ๐Ÿ™‚

Praise God – He helps me through it all, even and especially if He is the one throwing it at me. ๐Ÿ˜›

Post-a-day 2019

Accomplishments

Today, I socialized while getting myself some of the good Japanese culture, and even a bit of the language, too.

I made this:

The fancy and “real” one is the white paperboard one, but I messed it up, so I much prefer my practice one on the newspaper (that’s why I put the hanko [stamp] on it, too).

It is the Japanese writing for Anshin, which means ‘peace of mind; freedom from care; relief.’

We did it as an activity called kakizome ๆ›ธใๅˆใ‚, which is the first kanji one writes in the new year, and it is an intention and wish one makes for the year.

I selected ๅฎ‰ๅฟƒ, because that is what I want in abundance in my life this year (I almost considered ใ‚ขใƒƒใƒˆใƒ›ใ‚ฆใƒ , which is not kanji, but is spelling out a word, and, in this case, spelling out the two foreign words “at home”, because I couldn’t find anything that seemed quite right for what I longed for in my life this year…, but then I found ๅฎ‰ๅฟƒ).

ๅฎ‰ๅฟƒ was perfect, as soon as someone wrote it down for me… we had discussed the meaning, which I really liked, but it was when I saw it that I loved it.

I don’t remember what the very top part is, but the whole thing includes the word for woman and the word for heart – those two kanji, combined with the meaning?… done deal – let’s do this. ๐Ÿ˜›

And, so, we did. ๐Ÿ™‚

Post-a-day 2019 (The last year of Emperor Heisei, Heisei 31 ๅนณๆˆไธ‰ๅไธ€ )

Memories

My cousin and I were talking tonight about old, old memories in our lives.

Growing up, I had a situation that was incredibly unique at the time (and that still is a bit unique nowadays), in which my parents each had children from a previous spouse, only had me together, married when I was three, and divorced one another when I was four.

My siblings on my mom’s side not only lived in the same neighborhood as I did, but my mom and I were regularly at their dad’s house, spending time with them and, even, their dad, who was my mom’s first husband, but with whom my mom was no longer involved in such a relationship.

My siblings on my dad’s side moved to Georgia (until they kind of moved back, off and on, one by one, starting when I was about nine), and so were only around for certain holidays and for what I guess to have been about a month each summer.

My cousin pointed out that she remembered being often at the place my mom and I lived for many years together after she split up from my dad, the one that was in the neighborhood with my brothers and their dad.

I, too, recalled that they often were there visiting us, and we often were at their house (two hours away, by the way) visiting them.

She then presented the interesting and confounding concept of accepting the idea of someone seeing one’s cousins more often than seeing one’s own siblings…, because that’s really how it was in the first decade and a half of my life, so far as my mom’s sister’s children and my dad’s children were concerned.

I have many more memories from earlier childhood with those cousins than I do with my siblings on my dad’s side.

Certainly, I saw my brothers from my mom all the time, almost daily…, but my cousins were, as I can pull up old school activities and projects to show, some of my favorite people in the world, and they were often on my mind, because I saw them often…, such was not the case with my siblings on my dad’s side.

Sure, I cared about them, and I had spectacular memories from the brief time we all spent in the same house when my parents were married to one another, but I really think we could say that I had more a relationship with and attitude towards them that people have with cousins, rather than one with siblings.

So, my half brothers were like my brothers, my cousins were like my half siblings, and my other half siblings were like my cousins… relationship- and attitude-wise, anyway.

Kind of crazy, huh?

I hadn’t really ever thought much about it, because, as my cousin also pointed out tonight, it can be amazing what kinds of things we just accept as children, not concerned in the least about whether they are uncommon or absurd.

I guess the absurdity doesn’t surprise me, of course, because, well, even now, absurd is normal in my life, as this same cousin so graciously pointed out to me a few years ago. ๐Ÿ˜›

Post-a-day 2019

Quality time with Mom

“Go,” she says.

“With what?”

She points at the tv show that was paused long before she arrived, and which has yet to be referenced.

“We’re Talking,” I declare, happy, but a bit indignant.

“I’m done,” she says back, chomping on a cracker.

Uh!…”

And we both crack up into laughter at the absurdity of our conversation.

Times like these make it all worth while, visiting my mom. ๐Ÿ˜›

Post-a-day 2018

Africa

I’ve started singing lately in an unknown language that sounds African… it reminds me of Swahili at times, or Zulu or Sotho or Xhosa…, but also totally not those… no matter what, though, it always sounds African to me….

And it has me wonder if it is linked at all to that deep-seated longing I have to live with the lions in Africa (or something to that effect)… perhaps, as I was considering tonight, I was in Africa in a previous (or another) life, and perhaps that was when my mom was Indian, and we somehow met through that proximity, and agreed to have this life together…

Wouldn’t that be neat…?

P.S. If you aren’t aware, look up an audio pronunciation of the language name Xhosa… I first heard it spoken aloud in the audiobook of Nelson Mandela’s A Long Walk to Freedom, and I loved it almost instantly.

Post-a-day 2018