Full Moon, Lightening, Spring Cleaning

Thursday sudden lightening storm, unexpected rain. The winds started. All night winds swirled, banged the older glass panes, unnerved both cats. Mr. B doesnt even try to hide during these 'crises' he just looks for me and stays close.
The neighbors are moving-no one is supposed to know because landlord doesnt want his office manager pushing her way in there, so with them packing and friends and relatives coming around to pick up whatever and say goodbye, its Penn Station Flea Market with foot traffic and furniture banging on the way down the stairs. BeauGhetto.
I've had these guys since they were kittens, so no accounting for their shaky nerves...except I was working and out for 12 hrs a day until this past year and we had alot of physical changes going on with construction noises, so maybe that's it. The smaller (!) cat, I have to stop calling him the 'smaller' cat because he's become so wide and heavy. He rolls around, oblivious to his girth. This isn't a problem unless he's perched somewhere, which is at least once a day. He like to lie down someplace precarious, turn himself upside down and glance around-the world is upside down. Its not the same as when he sleeps belly up, feet curled. When napping he finds a quiet secure spot and conks out, eventually rolling onto his back, curling his toes, often twitching in bliss, sometimes even mewing in his sleep. He only makes noise in his sleep when stressed out-if Mr. B has been chasing or whacking him aggressively, Bootee seeks some soul soothing activities. One favorite is humping my leg that has a blanket on it. This is a sure way to tick off Mr. B who comes sniffing around later...both of them sniff each other's behinds. Maybe I should read up on cat behaviour instead of playing cat shrink. This apartment is so small, I might have mentioned that only 100x, so I tend to be neurotic about keeping the litter boxes clean. And Mr. B has a panic attack after taking a cwap, meowing and announcing what he did. If I dont run into the kitchen, he comes in from the kitchen to tell me in person.
But at least he covers his business, and then he goes to cover his food dish, just to be sure any airborne germs dont get into his chopped liver. Bootee poops, makes a few swipes with his paws and runs to wash himself. I found him having some problems because I am stupid and bought raffia for them.
Raffia, a natural rope-like plant is often used in cat toys. A few strands are tied with a feather, sparkly threads on a stick and you pay $5. Since they only care about the raffia I bought a bunch of raw cleaned undyed raffia and thought what a treat! How smart am I? Not never because Bootee was so excited with having fresh crispy raffia to chase, roll around with, hanging from his perch, he chewed and chewed on it. I really did not think it through, but should have known because I cant sit and sew without him trying to catch and run off with yarn. He loves yarn. He'll eat it like spaghetti. At first I thought maybe he just wants a ball of yarn to play with...he toddled off as soon as I gave it to him and was very quiet for a suspiciously long time. I went looking and found him under the bed with one of his baskets where he stashes toys, unraveling the yarn, chewing away in bliss. I dont know how much he chomped down but his turds literally came out strung together. So I should've known better before buying raffia. He's such a curious, genuinely happy fat curious little porker, learns so quickly, responds to words, picks things up from Mr. B and me...so giving him something to make him happy is a joy to do. Except when he winds up with a tummy ache and cant pass a poop. I didnt realize anything was wrong until he stopped eating for a couple of meals, unheard of for him. I use Miralax, which is a stool softener for humans that doesnt contain psyllium in their food at least once a day. Bootee was born with digestive problems and at age 3 is still sensitive (so his owner brings home raffia for him to chew).
Enough about cat poop. I dont know what got into me this morning...while saying tehillim a thought came wandering by(a person does some of her best thinking while saying tehillim, unfortunately)that if its meant for me to move out of here, its going to happen, but in the short term I really am not comfortable living with one leg out the door, collecting boxes (30 stacked inside each other)for when the kids might find an apt near them. I expect I'll be making funeral arrangements before they get themselves moving to seriously help me move. So I broke down the boxes, taped the bundle and its going out.
This is the trouble with cleaning...one thing leads to another. I can't start and then sit staring at the desk in the bedroom loaded with disability and legal papers. So that desk mess where I've been working for over a year was sorted and boxed.
I bought a thick flannel gown 2 years ago, on sale. Love it, yellow with small flowers and sleeves that end in cuffs so tight its not wearable. So for 2 winters its been hanging in the closet. With my RA getting more sensitive to cold, flannel is gift. I wasnt ever able to wear it because of overheating, that certainly isnt an issue anymore. Another sign of old age.
Sunday mornings Columbia U. in NYC has a radio program of low country blue grass...Bill Monroe, Doc Watson and so much more. I must have hick somewhere in the family trees, this music stops me cold, some of it amazing as neggunnim, it goes straight to the heart. Nothing like contemporary country which I never listen to. So I sat and ripped the seams open on the flannel gown as Doc Watson was singing Little Birdie and fixed the sleeves. Its probably me channeling Dad who sold blue serge suits in the back woods of Maryland during the 1920s.

Maybe I'm not paying close enough attention, but havent read why Iran needs to send a warship through the Suez...sport? muscle flexing? Ghaddafi is clearly not taking his meds, sending planes up to machine gun citizens protesting in the streets. Incredible these monsters have sat unchallenged in any major way for decades and now that their peoples are asking them to pack their bags, its time to murder, just mow folks down. Saudis keeping low public profile must be very busy behind scenes and under their tables to squash anything at home and in Bahrain.

There is a sweetness among everything else, in Egyptians, which differentiates their struggle from the rest of the region. I say this inspite of the horror stories that came out of sexual abuse against women during the protests-but would bet my last buck this was not citizenry, it was hired thugs. I have to think this will be their saving grace in dealing with Israel.
WWII and more recently we see countries where neighbors of different ethnic backgrounds who once lived together for decades, turn on each other when war presents opportunity, raping one another's wives and daughters, slaughtering men. I was still in college during the Bosnian/Croatian horrors. A student filmmaker returned to Croatia and I wrote him asking if there was anything I could send. He wrote back, although I'll never know how his letter made it out, 'just send black garbage bags.'

My neighbor had a visitor yesterday...late night conversation on the stairs. The man was saying most people around here are carrying guns now and she might want to think about getting one in case of riots starting. As my blood turned to ice while hearing this, she responded, I'm glad I'll be gone, won't be here to see it.

Last year my son, a trained gunsmith told me the same thing about where he lives, but it was in regard to antisemitic incidents in his community. Gravestones had been overturned, swastikas and graffitti showing up. Two completely different cultures and religious communities packing heat, prepared for wars no one has yet declared but troubles that are quietly rumbling that the average citizen is sure is around the corner...apocalyptic one might say.

Having caught 15 minutes of Glenn Beck (oh thee of chalkboard fame) comparing the Second Coming as described in Christianity and Islam. Christians believe the return of jesus means a period of wars (which some claim we are in now), good years when people will convert and then a mark on the heads of sinners that means those who did not accept jesus as saviour will be sent to Sheol. On the other hand, muslims say the same and then change the ending to read the mark of 'the beast' means those marked are saved from damnation. Beck's idea is that we're all sitting on a time bomb, that is Islam, and we need to be aware and prepared. The funny thing is, the 'experts' writing about this stuff are mainly Jews, explaining comparative religious theories but I have yet to see a Jew write a compendium of the end of times that includes all 3 religions.

According to Chabad, Moshiach arrived and will be revealed (Lubavitchers already know who he is) once enough mitzvahs are done, enough babies are birthed and two consecutive shabbosim are observed perfectly.

Part of me wants to build a bomb shelter and the rational aka lazy brain section says, why bother, at the rate things are going no one is getting out alive.