DON'T YOU JUST LOVE THE LOOK ON THIS CAT'S FACE?

It just kills me. Has nothing to do with anything else, but....

So tonight I am NOT watching a movie about Gandhi - I am watching "Dirty Jobs" (one of my FAVORITE shows on television - I LOVE Mike Rowe), so listen, I CAN GRIPE and COMPLAIN and LIST all the stupid things in my life that are bothering me tonight (any and all Gandhi fans, stop reading right now):

1. Now, Harmony, don't read this one - It is IMPOSSIBLY hot and muggy tonight, and we have no breeze at all. I have three fans on me, I am practically naked, and I am sweating like a pig (side bar here - did you know that pigs actually cannot sweat? That's why they are always laying around in the mud - it's to regulate their body temperature when it's hot).

2. I literally caused a horse to flip today. We have real grass here for at least the monsoon season (see above) and a few weeks following, so I have been taking the horses out to graze (save some on the cost of hay).

Let me set up the screen for you - I have two horses who are like night and day. Najale is young, excitable and LOVES to jump around, rear up and kick his hind legs out any chance he can. Sally is old (about 70 from a horse's view), methodical and INSANE if she is separated from Najale. He's not her biological child, but EMOTIONALLY she has tied herself quite literally to his side ("tied with a silver chain" - line from a great Crosby Stills Nash song).

So it's difficult to take the two of them anywhere together - Najale is racing around, showing off with stunts and bucks and kicks, while Sally is panicking that he's going to get out her sight but at the same time unable to keep up with him.

Brilliant me, I think, well, since Sally is always certain to hang around, I'll just keep hold of Najale and simply tie the lead rope around Sally's neck with a hang-man's knot (that really is the name of the knot).

And it worked - for about ten minutes. Then I noticed that the knot on Sally was sliding up her neck (actually, it was sliding DOWN as she had her head down grazing), and AS I WAS STEPPING OVER TO HER to tighten the knot, and get it back down (up), she STEPPED on the rock, panicked, began to fight against it, causing the knot to TIGHTEN, and then literally THROWS herself backwards.

Poor old girl, it took me a couple of minutes to calm her down enough to get to the knot, and then a bit to get the tightened knot unDONE. I don't know if she will ever trust me again. She wasn't hurt, thank goodness, but shook up pretty good.

Of course, while this is happening, I simply deserted Najale, throwing his rope down and racing to Sally. What does he do? Nothing - remains exactly where is was, chomping on the grass peacefully.

3. I spent about 45 minutes helping my daughter Joy prepare for her food handler's exam (fast food workers need to have it renewed every three years, I think). But it isn't just quizzing her - it's explaining what metal stick thermometers are, how you use them, what latex is, why there is that little F by cooking temperatures, how big four inches is, and why ice cools things....

I am very proud of Joy, and how much she has done with her limitations. And I have in the past been allowed to read the questions to her as she takes the quiz, and then rephrase them so she understands what the question is actually asking while not giving away the answer....

But going through a 25 page pamphlet while sitting at Carl's Jr. during the lunch rush.... I'm just grateful it's only every three years.


Wow - thanks, Harmony and Jen. This helped.

GRIPE SESSION

It's difficult to complain about anything while watching the movie "Gandhi." I can moan about the pain in my side while sitting on my nice cushioned chair, typing on my keyboard, air conditioned coolness flowing past my feet - and then watch a man in only a loincloth sitting on a dirt floor in an open hut, preaching the virtues of making one's own cloth.

I can complain about my imperfect personal relationships and struggles with depressed individuals - and the movie shows Gandhi keeping prolonged fasts to protest violence.

I can wail and moan about my personal long list of imperfections - and then watch a person setting his country's ideals higher than his own safety, his own health, his own life - and bring the British Empire to her knees.

Boy, right now I want to go join the Peace Corps - sit in protest - live a life of non-resistance.

Maybe after my nap.

UP UP AND AWAY

I feel incredibly behind on life overall. I can go literally months without noticing all the half-finished/barely-begun/why-is-this-still-even-in-existence projects, and then suddenly one day they are ALL jumping up and down shouting "HEY! When are you gonna finish ME?! I'm right here!! NOW! NOW"

This afternoon is was the hay shed - still uncovered still with only three completed walls, and absolutely plastered end-to-end with slimy bits of mixed hay and drowned senior horse nuggets from our current monsoon season (sidebar here: the Arizona concept of a 'monsoon' is a little bit different from the rest of the world, but it is when we get the majority of our 7-10 inches of rainfall each year - yes, each YEAR).

So I shoveled, raked, pushed and swept it all as clear as I could, and haphazardly (my favorite work style - quick and dirty) covered it all with a large(r) tarp, tied down with random bits of hay twine (I don't think I'm cheap, it's just already available, and the stuff NEVER breaks).

Welcome, billowing huge blue sail, scaring both horses and all local wildlife out of their senses, which will probably blow off during the night and I will go out in the morning to MORE soaked hay!

IF I ONLY HAD A UTERUS

Today was a medley of violent mood swings. I am rarely angry, scared and/or irritated, so combine this with all three occurring within a few minutes...

I would blame it on PMS, but since I have had a complete hysterectomy a few years ago (thanks again, Harmony, for coming out here for that), that can't really be responsible.

So it helped to remember that moods are caused by thoughts, and I can (normally) control those thoughts (we won't get into chemical inbalances in this entry, at least).

And although I am not being paid to promote this book, I also do not wish to be accused of plagiarism, so I am quoting directly from the Elizabeth Gilbert book "Eat, Pray, Love - One Woman's Search for Everything Across Italy, India and Indonesia" - see if this sounds familiar to you:

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The following morning, I arrive right on time for the 4:00 a.m. meditation session which always starts the day here. We are meant to sit for an hour in , but I log the minutes as if they are miles - sixty brutal miles that I have to endure. By mile/minute fourteen, my nerves have started to go, my knees are breaking down and I'm overcome with exasperation. Which is understandable, given that the conversations between me and my mind during meditation generally go something like this:

ME: OK, we're going to meditate now. Let's draw our attention to our breath and focus on the mantra. Om Namah Shivaya. Om Namah Shiv---

MIND: I can help you out with this, you know!

ME: OK, good, because I need your help. Let's go. Om Namah Shivaya. Om Namah Shiv--

MIND: I can help you think of nice meditative images. Like - hey, here's a good one. Imagine you are a temple. A temple on an island! And the island is in the ocean!

ME: Oh, that is a nice image.

MIND: Thanks. I thought of it myself.

ME: But what ocean are we picturing here?

MIND: The Mediterranean. Imagine you're one of those Greek islands, with an old Greek temple on it. No, never mind, that's too touristy. You know what? Forget the ocean. Oceans are too dangerous. Here's a better idea - imagine you're an island in a lake, instead.

ME: Can we meditate now, please? Om Namah Shivaya--

MIND: Yes! Definitely! But try not to picture that the lake is covered with... what are those things called....

ME: Jet Skis?

MIND: Yes! Jet Skies! Those things consume so much fuel! They're really a menace to the environment. Do you know what else uses a lot of fuel? Leaf blowers. You wouldn't think so, but...

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I think I have proven my point. Which (just in case it needs to be stated again) is - you CAN control your thoughts... it just takes a lot of practice... and it DOES help you control your moods (to a point).

I'm babbling now - I just got off the phone after talking 45 minutes (to the second!) with Harmony, and my personal thought-process is completely muddled with Kate-spit-bubbles, knock-knock jokes and field mice tales - wait a minute, who am I? What year is this? What am I trying to control? And (the most important question) WHY am I trying to control ANYthing right now?!

Go to bed, silly woman!

WHEN I START FEELING SORRY FOR MYSELF

- I read about Jen having strep throat right after returning from vacation. I HATE strep throat; it's pure and simple PAIN until the antibiotics kick in. And since I am allergic to most antibiotics, it's just pain for me.

- I visit my neighbor Julianna, who has decided to stop chemotherapy and live what is left of her life with dignity and faith. She is cheerful and positive, and yet is moving slower and with more pain each and every day, even with morphine.

- I talk to my daughter, who suffers from severe enough depression that she was in a psych ward for four days last week under what they call a suicide watch, and hear her trying to deal with a job that now won't give her any work hours.

- I find out that three of my neighbors have been without electricity and without water for two days. That means no air conditioning, when it's 100+, no fans, no fridge, no water.

Boy, have I had a great life recently.

NOT EASILY DISTRACTED

Watching "America's Got Talent" and trying to write something profound is simply impossible. Geeky strip-teasers, guys seven feet tall who put curly straws up their nose and drink milk, chunky pole-dancers - I hate to quote David Hasselhoff, but I agree with him - "When I am 80 years old and am on my death bed, I'm going to look back at this moment and realize I could have spent this time with someone I love."

And yet it's like a car wreck - it's impossible to not want to watch. It's both inspiring and horrible what people will do on stage in front of an audience and, even more shocking, huge television cameras as well as Jerry Springer.

I freely admit that I am a ham on stage. I simply don't have stage fright - I can make a completely ass of myself in front of almost any amount of anyone.

But I hope I have enough sense to realize that my amazing talents of belching in octaves (just as an example - I can do more than just that) may not be something that would prompt any normal human being to wish me unto the rest of the world.

But, hey, anyone wanna give me an audition now?

WHAT DO YOU DO WHEN YOU ARE SEVEN FEET TALL?

"You either play basketball or you're a freak - and I h