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... One Door Opens

June 6, our family opened our arms to Izzy. No, she won't replace Mister Saavik. Nobody or no thing can replace Mister Saavik. She was my love and my familiar and was with me through my darkest times. She was cranky, but adored me without reservation. After all, I was the bringer of all things good!

Izzy is Izzy and she's precious and has the most tender voice. She's young enough to play (Saavik had relegated her play time to the occasional round of rocket cat). She's shy but very loving once she realizes you won't hurt her. (And she has a profound respect for the Bringer of All Things Good!)

And, although thoughts and melancholy moments of Saavik will continue to creep into my heart, Izzy helps make them hurt a little less and brightens my day.

Thanks to my friend, Mrs. Troll, for introducing us to Izzy!

Mister Saavik: 1993-2009

No more steadfast and loyal a companion could be asked for. I miss you so much, my pretty girl.

It's SPRING!!

WOOOHOOOO! As someone who really doesn't like winter much at all, this little beauty in my yard was a welcome treat.

At this point, there are dozens of them, with dozens more buds preparing to explode. The entire town is awash in yellow daffodils, yellow forsythia, blooming Bradford pear trees, and just gorgeous healthy growth EVERYWHERE!

I'd forgotten just how glorious spring can be when you live somewhere that experiences regular infusions of ... WET.

Those are oak leaves that handsome little fellow is poking through. I'm still a little dumbfounded that I -- a pantheist / eclectic pagan -- have an oak tree in my yard. It's wondermous!

Spring is just so... so... SPRING! W00t! What a celebration for our little family this year!

Further Affiant Sayeth Naught

FBI didn't keep tabs on comedian Carlin's 7 words

Quote from above-referenced article:

“The two FBI memos Carlin's daughter provided both stated the bureau's files ‘contain no information identifiable with Carlin.’ They also indicate that investigators didn't find the comedian particularly amusing.

“One, dated Feb. 12, 1969, refers to Carlin as an ‘alleged comedian’ after he made fun of the bureau during an appearance on 'The Jackie Gleason Show.'”

ROFLMAO -- Makes me love and miss the man all the more.

Personal Firsts and National Firsts

For the very first time, I watched an inauguration.

For the very first time, I watched an inauguration with hope.

For the very first time, I watched an inauguration of a black man, with hope.

For the very first time, I watched an inauguration of a black man, with hope. And I wept.

I Hate the Tylenol Guy / Gal

If you're old enough to know what that title means, you probably hate him / her too.

Those of you who don't know -- visit here.

To quote the above source:

The perpetrator was never caught, but the incident led to reforms in the packaging of over-the-counter substances and to federal anti-tampering laws.

And that, my friends is why I hate the Tylenol Terrorist (as he/she has also been known).

Shortly -- perhaps months -- after the enactment and implementation of the new packaging laws, I was cursing his/her name. Some packaging has just become a pain in the ass to open. Add to that the anti-theft packaging (especially the infamous blisterpak), and just your average folks have issues opening products.

However, having recently been diagnosed with a particularly nasty form of arthritis, I have been cursing the "Terrorist" loudly and longly (yes, Virginia, I know that's not a word). Now that I have fine motor skill / grasping issues, even those little pull-tab seals on catsup (yes, little one, that's the correct name -- WTF is "ketchup?") are difficult for me -- and no doubt countless others -- to open.

Grrrrr... I have an itty bitty paring knife that I keep around for sliding around the neck of a bottle through the nano-thin and nano-tough sheen of silver sealing me away from whatever product I'm needing at the moment.

And, sometimes, I wonder at the decision to seal a particular product. Tell me -- why would someone want to open up that tube of lotion and put -- oh, I don't know, dye? acid? -- into that itty-bitty opening? Now, I hope I don't give some budding copycat terrorist any ideas but, hasn't the manufacturer thought about the fact that a needle and syringe could get past that little seal? In the meantime, even the BLADE OF MY ITTY BITTY PARING KNIFE IS TOO FRELLING BIG TO OPEN THAT STINKING LITTLE SEAL AND I DON'T CARE THAT THEY PUT A 1 MM PULL-TAB ON IT SO YOU COULD PULL IT OFF, I CAN'T GRASP THE FRELLING PULL-TAB!!!!!

WTF ARE PEOPLE THINKING?

Ok, I'm a bit more sensitive now that I have this particular disability, but you know, I clearly (nay, DISTINCTLY!) recall fussing about that particular packaging decision BEFORE contracting arthritis. So, I'm not just awakening to the challenges of the disabled in this case.

All this keep-the-consumer-out packaging has only done one thing for me: underscored the fact that --

I. Hate. The. Tylenol. Guy.

I hope, if he hasn't died already, that when he dies, somebody seals his frelling sarcophagus with tamper-resistant silver plastic and throws him in a landfill where he can be preserved for all time.