Four dead in Ohio

Remembering the 35th anniversary of Kent State today.

More about April 26

Angelic Katie

I neglected to mention that April 26 is memorable at Get A Grip On It for another reason. Six weeks after my dad died in 2002, we had to put down our 21 (yes, Twenty-One) year old cat, Zeb, due to kidney failure. It was devestating to me. When a person dies, there are tons of things to be done and you have to stay focused. With an animal, it's over, end of story, and there is no particular need to rein in the grief.

We cleaned up the house and admired how it no longer smelled like cat effluvia. (As an old man, Zeb had terrible aim in the litter box.) We opened doors at will and never worried about whether he would dart outside. We went on trips without giving anyone our house keys. We de-haired our clothing.

When April 26, 2003 came around, I wanted to do something positive and life-affirming. T came home from work and I said, "Let's go the Animal Rescue League and look at cats. We don't have to get one. I just want to see what they have available."

You know what's coming, don't you?

We looked at the front aisle of cats, but none of them really caught my attention. Most of them were sleeping or seriously lounging. Then we went around to the back aisle. There was a black cat that looked cute, but she was sleeping in her litter pan and I didn't really want to pick her up. But in the last cage, there was an alert kitten, about six months old, standing at the front of her cage. She nuzzled my finger and followed my hand and my voice.

We took her to the get-acquainted room and studied her. She had an orange hind leg, which reminded us of Zeb, and she seemed healthy and self-assured. An hour later, we brought home our new kitten. Eventually we named her Katharina, for Shakespeare's Shrew, but we call her Katie unless she is being extremely evil.

Roy professed not to like cats, but whenever he visited a cat home, he would get up early and give the cats fresh food or a drink of fresh water from the tap. Katie knows instinctively that PaPa Roy wants her to have only the freshest water, and she is not shy about reminding us. In this picture, however, she is in her blind, waiting for the birds to fly around the kitchen window.

Uh, Right. Or Left.

You Are 27 Years Old

27 Under 12: You are a kid at heart. You still have an optimistic life view - and you look at the world with awe. 13-19: You are a teenager at heart. You question authority and are still trying to find your place in this world. 20-29: You are a twentysomething at heart. You feel excited about what's to come... love, work, and new experiences. 30-39: You are a thirtysomething at heart. You've had a taste of success and true love, but you want more! 40+: You are a mature adult. You've been through most of the ups and downs of life already. Now you get to sit back and relax.

What Age Do You Act?

Anything they say. I'm sure my liberal leanings bought me a few years.

I messed up something in my shootin' arm last night, carrying groceries into the house, so I have it wrapped and am looking under the sofa for ibuprofen. There was none in the cupboard. I think T put it in his briefcase. My right wrist definitely feels 40+.

On the other hand, I just discovered that one of my favorite TV shows ever, Night Court, now has Season One available on DVD. That made me feel young and frisky, until I realized that season one is 22 years old. So emotionally, I'm ping-ponging between 25 and 50. Laughter is the best medicine, thought, and watching the DVD certainly makes me laugh.

It's almost 9:00 PM, and I am calculating how much longer I dare stay up since I have to be at work early. Yep, 40+ there, too.

Me and Myers-Briggs

One of my co-workers took a Myers-Briggs assessment recently, so I decided to check my own type via the many web tests that are available. First up:

My Bloginality is ISTP!!!

As an ISTP, you are Intraverted, Sensing, Thinking, Perceiving.
This makes your primary focus on Introverted Thinking with Extraverted Sensing

This is defined as a SP personality, which is part of Carl Jung's Artisans (Sensation Seeking) type, and more specifically the Crafters or Mechanics.

Because of your desire for action and independance, you will change the format of blogging or design frequently to keep it interesting and different. Your loyalty may have you reading the same blogs over a long period of time. Even though you could be easily bored with blogging, you might find that because you like following a project through, this is a good way for you to use your alone time to sort the facts you pick up through the day.

On the other hand...

ISTJ - "Trustee". Decisiveness in practical affairs. Guardian of time- honored institutions. Dependable. 11.6% of total population.

Free Myers-Briggs Word Choice Test
personality tests by similarminds.com

I used to be an iNtuitive, but apparently not any more. That may be a case of the job shaping the personality. I am definitely an I and a T. Many of my favorite people are Ts, too. I guess the phrase, "I like the way you think," is very true for me.

The Percieving/Judging thing is a close call. I can see elements of both, depending on the situation. As I tie-breaker, I took the quicky test at http://haleonline.com/psychtest/ I tried out both P and J, and selected as the winner:

You're an ISTP

You're a realist who applies expediency and reasoning as you manage and adapt to situations...you are aware of what is going on in the environment and are able to respond quickly to the actual facts, making sure the odds are in your favor...

You're straight-forward, pragmatic, honest people who prefer action to conversation..you have a good understanding of the way things work, and are not pretentious...analytical...you tend to make logical and private decisions, stating things the way you see 'em...

don't like to be tied down and don't like working in a structure or schedule...you need to anticipate immediate practical needs in situations and to present a logical straightforward plan for meeting those needs...

Curious and observant... convinced only by hard, reliable facts...veritable storehouses of information...realist able to capitalize well on available resources... quiet and reserved...appear cool and aloof and are inclined toward shyness, except with good friends...

You operate on impulse....you learn best when you can observe first-hand in a one-on-one situation...prefer to learn alone...you thrive on excitement and action...probably like outdoors and sports....good trouble shooter...you lead through action...by setting an example...you'd prefer to managed loosely at work so bossman isn't breathing down your neck.

It's important to pursue your interests.. you will do what it takes to make time or money for your leisure-time pursuits (like pay for a Storm Palace subscription?) ....you like to have the latest and finest equipment for whatever your hobby is...you probably get turned on just reading the Trivial Pursuit cards just to learn the information....

Love? Responsive yet realistic, huh? You seek partners who'll give you your freedom (especially for hobbies and interests) or will at least participate in 'em with you....you're attentive to the little things that your partner will like..you like to surprise them with gifts and stuff... you'd rather show your feelings through actions than express them with words....

When scorned by a love, you don't share it with the world... you're usually not vindictive when the relationship is over...you don't give up easily on the relationship unless you're convinced by the evidence.

Smile

Daddy was a big, good-natured, man who loved to laugh, but like many men, he didn't like to smile for pictures. (Why is that?) Once in awhile, though, he would forget he was supposed to look solemn and just be himself.


Roy E. Coffey 5 Aug 1926 - 26 Apr 2002

He was in his element, wearing his work coveralls and puttering around outside. He may have been fixin' stuff, or since he is standing by the camper, he may have been getting ready to go on a trip.

He is also sweating, because that is also something he could do with abandon. Once when my brother called, I had to call Dad in from outside to talk to him. "He's coming in now," I said. "Is sweat running off his nose?" my brother asked. Of course it was. Dad could work up a sweat just thinking about work. Or breakfast. Or fishing. Anything, really.

I was always a daddy's girl, and when he got sick, I fretted about how I would cope when he was no longer around. As it turned out, we went back to the house, and we got out boxes of photos so we could pick out the pictures for the video at the funeral. Roy in psychadelic Sixties garb. Roy dwarfing a playground ride. Roy and his first car. Roy and his first grandbaby, both sound asleep.

And we smiled.

Monday

Not much to say - Mondays are work, work, work, pet the cat, check the internet, knit, gossip, and sleep.

An amusement, courtesy of http://www.acme.com/

Open for business

Getting them was a comedy of annoying errors, but I now have in my possession the first order of the redesigned Piker Press business cards. Alex did a lovely job designing them, don't you think? I will be taking some to the Des Moines Poetry Festival today, in hopes of seducing some new voices to the Press.


Lovely new business cards

I'm excited about the poetry festival. This year's featured poets include current and former Poets Laureate Ted Kooser and Billy Collins.

I haven't been to the festival for a couple of years, although in the past I have enjoyed hearing such poets as Donald Justice, Carolyn Kiser, Jorie Graham, Donald Hall, Mark Strand, Poet Laureate Robert Pinsky, and the peculiarly engaging Robert Bly.

Bly read some ghazals, I think it was, which have two-line stanzas, and he did something I have not seen any other poet do. He read each stanza twice. At first I thought he was deranged, but soon I figured out that the first reading let you understand the words, but the second reading let you hear the poetry. It was brilliant.

Another memorable festival moment came when C. K. Williams read these lines from his poem "The Dress":

in those long-ago days, women, my mother, my friends' mothers, our neighbors,
all the women I knew, wore, often much of the day, what were called "housedresses,"
cheap, printed, pulpy, seemingly purposefully shapeless light cotton shifts

that you wore over your nightgown, and, when you have to go to look for a child,
hang wash on the line, or run down to the grocery store on the corner, under a coat[...]

When he said the word "housedresses," I could feel dozens of people in the room gasp inaudibly along with me. In that instant, with one carefully chosen word, he made us all thirty years younger and transported us to other places, full of hair rollers, chicken and dumplings at Granny's house, and shirts baked stiff on the clothesline. "That," I thought, "is the power of poetry."

Sunday afternoon

Katie found a new warm, sunny place to spend the afternoon - on top of the printer/scanner. She watched me while I worked, and spent a tolerably long time being fetching so I could take pictures of her.

Katie in the sunshine
Hard to believe that this sweet thing eluded us when we picked her up at her sitter's house by climbing into the box springs and up on the slats so she did not creating any visible sags.

Hi Team

Made ya look. Heh.

Return of the Memes

Thanks to Audie and Warrior for this one. Yep, I am perfectly suited for the safe and quiet life.

The Monk You scored 34% Cardinal, 69% Monk, 41% Lady, and 29% Knight!

You live a peaceful, quiet life. Very little danger comes you way and you live a long time. You are wise and modest, but also stagnant. You have little comfort, little food and have taken a vow of silence. But who needs chatter when just sitting in the cloister of your abbey with The Good Book makes you perfectly content.

My test tracked 4 variables How you compared to other people your age and gender: You scored higher than 40% on Cardinal You scored higher than 90% on Monk You scored higher than 59% on Lady You scored higher than 9% on Knight

Link: The Who Would You Be in 1400 AD Test written by KnightlyKnave on Ok Cupid

Last photos

The cover photo on USA Today this morning was of the late Pope John Paul II's body on display for mourners at the Vatican. I've seen a lot of pictures on his body, in fact, which struck me as odd until I thought about my family.

We photograph the dead.

I was very young when my grandfathers died, too young to remember them, but our photo albums had pictures of them, even in their caskets. There were also pictures of people who died before I was born. Even knowing my parents' tendency to take funeral snapshots, I remember being taken aback when I opened a letter and a picture of Granny all laid out fell into my lap. Granny was poor, hardworking, toothless, and completely uninterested in fashion. Since I wasn't able to make the trip to the funeral, Mom wanted me to see how nice she looked. I suspect that was the thought behind a lot of our family funeral photos - this is the best he ever looked, so let's get a picture of it.

When our dad died, my brother and I went to the funeral home one afternoon and took pictures of everything - dad, the flowers, the stained glass window in the chapel. "This is so strange," I thought, "but it is also what Dad would have done." When mom died a couple of years later, we did the same thing. We also have a bunch of pictures of the gravestone as it progressed from having one name to two.

I thought this might be a southern thing, but T's older cousins remember having their photo taken in front of their grandfather's casket in Iowa. I learned this at a funeral luncheon when one of them sheepishly asked if anyone would object to her taking a few pictures. It was after the funeral, mind you, but all of the cousins were together, and it was a perfect chance to get a picture of everyone, so why not?

Death is an inevitable part of life. In my family, as in Rome, commemorating that passage is as natural as breathing.

Ah, Spring!

It was another beautiful day, warm and sunny and clear. The birds are singing, the lilacs are budding. I spent the day at the office, going in before it was fully bright out. I actually managed to get a lunch today (I don't always) and stepped outside for a few minutes.That's Monday in my world.

T spent the day packing the camper. We are taking it out later this week - the first trip since we bought the new one. Naturally, the forecast turns cold and rainy tomorrow and stays that way until we leave. Tough. We got a heater this time.

A good Sunday

It was a good day in Iowa. We had warmer temps than our friends on either coast, and T and I went to a nearby trail and walked for awhile. The best wildlife we saw, though, was at the restaurant where we ate lunch. This pair was in the parking lot--


Ducks at Chips Restaurant
Thanks to the fabulous Zire 72 and its little camera, we were ready to capture the moment.

May I just say--I hate Daylight Saving Time? I hate having to reset all of the clocks. I hate it tonight, when I have to go to bed before dark so I can be at work early tomorrow. I hate it as summer goes along and we can't even start stargazing until 10:00 PM. And I hate that I don't even know who to complain to about it. Who is in charge of the Department of Time, anyway?

When I grow up

Last night, the Friday night knitters and some other creative types got together for an Idea Party. We listened to one of Barbara Sher's audio programs. We did the exercises, and talked about the results.

I enjoyed the evening, but I didn't learn anything earth-shattering about myself. I still don't know what I want to be when I grow up. I know what sort of work situation I like to be in, though - with a small group of intelligent, outgoing people who can get things done and laugh when it is over. I am blessed be working on a team like that now, and I still have a lot of contact with my former fun team, too.

Since everyone at the party had creative aspirations, it was no surprise that they all wanted to find ways to be more creative - spend more time pursuing their interests, and getting more recognition for them. I can buy the "spending more time" part (hmm, would I rather knit or do payroll?) And every time I think about NaNoWriMo, I get envious of those who are able to write readable fiction. But thanks to The Piker Press I have had an outlet for whatever creative tchotchkes I come up with, and a small but admiring throng of interesting people to pal around with. Alex even tapped in to my then-unvoiced desire to be Sylvia Beach, and made me poetry editor, so I get to troll for new talent and be a teacher, too.

I may not have everything I sometimes think I want, but just about everything I have makes me happy and fulfilled. So why would I even want to grow up?

Easter

I love the Easter service at our church, and have since the first time I attended it with T, a dozen or so years ago, before we were married. It was the music that sold me then, and it is what makes the service special even now.

After the organ prelude, the service began with a processional of handbell ringers playing joyous peals. Then we sang “Jesus Christ is Risen Today,” as the cross, the lectern bible, and a candle are carried in, followed by the pastors and the rest of the choir. A small brass ensemble punches up the performance. All of the hymns are familiar ones that lend themselves to belting. There was a full house, so one could sing at full voice and not be concerned about making a scene.

The choir had two anthems, one of which was Handel’s “Hallelujah Chorus.” I caught T singing along with it, and had to give him the “inside voice” sign. The bell choir played the offertory. I am not a big fan of bell choirs, but our top choir is darned good, and fun to watch, as well.

The Easter sermon is generally full of hope and joy, and today was no exception. (This was not true at the first service I attended here. The interim pastor was apparently firmly grounded in Calvinism, and the gist of the sermon was, “Life’s a bitch and then you die.” Oy vey!)

We learned a couple of pastors back about the historical greeting of the early Christians: “Christ is risen!”, answered by “Christ is risen indeed!”. What’s more, back then we had to keep saying it until we sounded convincing, and as a result, we now sound like the pep club at the “Christ is Risen” rally. Which, I guess, we are.

The service always ends with our very fine organist playing the Toccata from Widor’s Organ Symphony No. 5. Many in the congregation stay and listen to the entire postlude. I have loved this showstopper since I first heard it in college some 25 years ago. My good friend Larry played it in his senior recital. One of my college roommates is a member of our church, and I saw her after the service. The first thing she said to me was, “The Widor always makes me think of Larry.”

Pomp, big music, and the ultimate message of hope. Not bad for an hour-long service.

Have a happy and blessed Easter.

Mercurial

You Are From Mercury

You are talkative, clever, and knowledgeable - and it shows. You probably never leave home without your cell phone! You're witty, expressive, and aware of everything going on around you. You love learning, playing, and taking in all of what life has to offer. Be careful not to talk your friends' ears off, and temper your need to know everything.

What Planet Are You From?

I think it said Mercury because I am a Gemini, and Gemini is ruled by Mercury. I'm willing to bet there was no consensus in my other answers. I am a compulsive learner, but not glued to the phone by a long shot.

Anyway, Mercury is a hard little comet-smacked rock ball that is 400 degrees F in the daytime, and -185 F at night. Because Mercury is an inner planet, we can see its phases in a telescope, like a tiny little moon. It never strays far from the sun, so one must be attentive to see it in the twilight. I would not describe it as clever.

I've been (almost) everywhere, man

My mother grew up poor, but wanted to see the whole country. My dad loved driving and keeping mom happpy. They managed to visit almost every state, missing only Oregon, Washington, and Alaska. Every summer when I was growing up, we would hitch up the camper and go traveling, so I've got a good start on seeing the entire country, too. T knew when he married me that polishing off those last seven states is a priority for me.

So without further ado, in the ongoing onslaught of quizzes and memes - my States list.

bold the states you've been to, underline the states you've lived in and italicize the state you're in now...

Alabama / Alaska / Arizona / Arkansas / California / Colorado / Connecticut / Delaware / Florida / Georgia / Hawaii / Idaho / Illinois / Indiana / Iowa / Kansas / Kentucky / Louisiana / Maine / Maryland / Massachusetts / Michigan / Minnesota / Mississippi / Missouri / Montana / Nebraska / Nevada / New Hampshire / New Jersey / New Mexico / New York / North Carolina / North Dakota / Ohio / Oklahoma / Oregon / Pennsylvania / Rhode Island / South Carolina / South Dakota / Tennessee / Texas / Utah / Vermont / Virginia / Washington / West Virginia / Wisconsin / Wyoming / Washington D.C /

Go HERE to have a form generate the HTML for you.

Am I evil?

In lieu of actual content, another quiz.


How evil are you?

Modern Art

Saturday was cloudy and dreary, cold and spitting sleet. After wandering around aimlessly for awhile, I decided to stop by the Art Center to refuel my sense of artistic wonder. As usual, it left me with mixed feelings about art. The collection leans significantly toward contemporary art. I'm not averse to modern art, and there are some modern pieces I love and look forward to seeing, even if I don't understand them. There is a white marble statue by Jean Arp, for example, that looks like a blob - but a blob full of voluptuous curves. It is so seductive, it makes me wish for a moment that I were a curator so I could touch its smooth coolness.

But for every piece that makes me stop and gaze and wonder, there is another one that makes me stop and gaze and wonder, "How the hell did he manage to convince anyone that this is art?" There is one painting that is an entirely white canvas, with characters written in pencil in three corners. Another has three panels painted in different shades of beige. (That one was once waggishly referred to as "the national flag of Neutralia.") There are three shop vacs in a plexiglass case. There is a special exhibition now of Frida Kahlo and Diego Rivera pieces that are - may I be blunt? - chalk and oil scribbles.

I'll give Frida and Diego a pass, because the works were commissioned, and she was sick. But the rest of them? They are considered art apparently because the artist kept saying he was an artist, and he kept saying they were art, until people started believing it. The art is not so much in the execution as in the presentation, and the presentation depends largely on the artist's ability to sell his vision of himself.

To be fair, visual art does not have a lock on this attitude. There are plenty of writers and musicians I find incomprehensible. The point is, they define themselves, produce their art, keep telling people about it until people start believing them.

I have some pastels in the garage, and a sketch pad by my desk. I think I'll go now and scribble me up some modern art. I am an artist, you know.

Am I funny?

From the same site that rated my personality yesterday. I think I have a dry sense of humor, and have been told that many times, including by a former boss during a staff meeting. (He said my witticisms sneak around behind and then dope slap you on the back of the head.) But, this analysis seemed pretty close, too. Anyway, replacing Gross with Dry gave me, "You might be Jewish." Since I am from the Midwest, and am not Jewish, SGT it is.

20 Questions to a Better Sense of Humor

Sunny/Dark: 1/10
drY/Gross: 5/10
Traditional/Offbeat: 3/10
Active/Passive: 6/10

You are a SGT--Sunny Gross Traditional. This makes you a John Hughes.

Your sense of humor makes you the ultimate every- person, just I'm-a try not to trouble nobody. You're laid back. Like la-a-a-aid back. You might be from the Midwest.

You enjoy the occasional weird or dark humor, and the right joke out of nowhere can really make you laugh out loud. In fact, the funniest stuff for you is the stuff that takes you off guard. If you can see it coming, you don't want to see it arrive.

You probably don't think this site is all that funny. So it's weird that you're here. I appreciate it, though. Maybe I'll cut back on the ranting and say something nice for a change.

Of the 16349 people who have taken this quiz, 30.4 % are this type.

Your Active humor score of 6/10 means you are ju-u-ust right. You're probably pretty popular -- a walking social lubricant. You know how to take someone from on edge to relaxed, and from relaxed to larfing. You're kind of like an episode of Arrested Development. That show is good. Anyway. Rave on, funny one.