Monday, December 21, 2015

Why Not Ask my Husband to Decide?

It looks like she's had a couple of tablespoons of water since I posted earlier in the day. And it looks like she ingested a couple flakes of dried Bonita. No kibble though. She's sleeping on the table next to me while I type. Do I try to force down more medicine?

I started this blog to discuss my thoughts on foreign policy.

And I was going to make reading it worth your while. (*1)

* Footnotes:

(1) By being pithy, I think.(**1)

** OCD Footnotes:
(1) Oh dear.

What if Life's Too Short to Fuss with My Man?

There are some times-- when ethics are involved, for instance-- when a gal needs to stand her ground. She may even have to relocate to a safe haven.

In the relationship I'm in now, though, either one of us could win almost any given argument and life would go on much the same as if the victory had gone to the other partner. Why not save time and let the default position be his position? (*1) Many religions instruct wives to be the followers and men to be the leaders. Maybe it's because the women, as the traditional care-takers of children, have more practice recognizing when they need to break up a childish fight with a loud,  "Knock it off, you'uns."

What is worth more to me, getting my way most of the time (a quarter of it? ten percent?) or, by my overall agreeableness and reasonableness, eliminating emotional obstacles to his accepting my ideas in those cases when they patently have more merit than his?

* Footnote:
1. There is an exception here, the case in which I ask for my husband's opinion on a matter he doesn't have much of a stake in. He has good ideas, but when I choose another option, he wonders why his opinion was requested if I hadn't intended to take his advice in the first place. 

Well, sometimes I don't want him to make a decision for me: I just want a sounding board. Just as words written on a page have a different quality when they're read aloud--a good reason to make a vocal read-through part of the editing process --so does a choice  when it moves from the inside of my skull into realms where it can be evaluated openly.

The breakthrough to my understanding him better(*1) came when I realized  how bad he felt when I didn't take his advice,  instead of hyper-focusing on my own irritation at feeling controlled. 

** OCD Footnote:
1. .. and ultimately getting what I want--although that was never what this was all about. Not ultimately.

When is it Time for a Pet to Die?

Some people might have told me: about $200 ago.

At first, she simply spat out the pills the vet prescribed. Then, she started “cheeking” them. Her hissing had stopped neither my attempts nor the vet tech's to get the medicine inside. Apparently, she thought we might assume she'd swallowed them and leave her alone. 

Next, we tried the same medicine in suspension form. I delivered correct doses from all three syringes, but most of it ended up on my clothes or in a foamy mess around her chin. My husband tried the next day, but had similar results.

She has the run of a large nooks- and crannies-filled basement. We haven’t seen her since last night. She hasn't touched her food all weekend, even though I haven’t tried to hide ground-up pills in it since last week. Except to refresh it, I haven’t messed with the water in the still-full bowl either.  Maybe she'll come through the open door to my office and perform her "jump in front of the computer screen and threaten to drool on the keyboard" routine. Darned cat. Or perhaps, this stubborn fifteen-year-old senior citizen has made her own end-of-life decision.

Update: She showed up in my office, still turning up her nose to water and even Kat-Man-Du dried Bonita flakes. If I try to give her more medicine, she’ll run away and I may never see her again.


Sunday, December 20, 2015

Why Blog? Do you move your lips when you read?

I should blog because I want to write for people I don't know.
Hello, stranger!

And you should read because...
...because I'm going to try to make it worth your while.

I want to edit so heavily that you will have time to
move your lips when you read my blog. 

That's how pithy I want to be.

Thursday, December 3, 2015

Who is Irene Athena?

My parents gave me the name Irene.

I took the name Athena  for myself, not instead of Irene, but with Irene, sometimes following Irene, and at times dragging Irene along behind her. (*1)  

* Footnotes:
(1) Irene is the Greek goddess of Peace; Athena, of war-craft in fights for a good cause.(**1)

OCD Footnotes: