Peculiar Resonance

Either the world is about to end, or you've taken them to the vet.

Itzl is the only one of my critters who has never quoted the Bhagavad Gita, performed summoning rituals for Chthulu, transformed into a 100th level demon, or expanded the vocabularies of small children in inappropriate ways.

He has, however, lolcatted a few times.

I know, that's almost as terrible as quoting Melville.

I had a kitty once, named Catmatyx Catastrophyx the Curious called Calumph, who was the nemesis of every vet in town. We got the little tuxedo kitten in trade for a bag of home grown tomatoes.

He seemed a sweet enough kitty, small, furry, playful. He kept his claws sheathed most of the time when playing with us.

But take him to the vet and he was a completely different critter. He became the distilled essence of CAT, so concentrated just one drop could remake the universe. He was primordial and one look into his eyes was enough to reduce experienced veterinarians to fetal fearfulness.

We didn't know this the first time we took him to the vet to have an abscess lanced and drained - before he was old enough for his first kitty shots.

The poor vet. He didn't know, either.

This tiny furball weighing no more than ounces shut down his practice for the afternoon as the aids, in quivering terror, quietly shooed all his patients out and locked the doors behind them. All the vet did, honest, was take him out of my hands and carry him in back to weigh him so they could measure out the right dose of antibiotics once his abscess was lanced.

Catmatyx was barely out of sight when this low, ratchety sound started that vibrated the door and window. It quickly escalated into the cat version of "Now I am become Shiva, the Shatterer of Worlds!" and then every critter in the back office began howling, barking, yowling, squalling, and cages rattled.

The vet came back in the little examining room with him. As soon as Catmatyx saw me, he leaped from the vet's arms into mine, then settled down in the bend of my elbow, licking one paw as cute as you please. The sounds in back died down quickly. The vet stared, shook himself, then said, "I think he weighs about 10 ounces. We're not - ah - sure because he wouldn't stay still."

Then he discussed anesthesia with me. I agreed to a topical anesthetic, but felt full anesthesia would be too difficult for him to handle. By this point, Catmatyx was batting at the bells I was holding for him, using his "soft paws" (claws in) and being extremely cute.

The abscess was on the back of his neck, and the vet needed to shave a portion of hair there so they could clean it well and I could take care of it at home. I offered to hold Catmatyx while they did this, but he said he had interns and aids trained in handling cats and it would be less traumatic for both me and Catmatyx as well as faster if they did it.

While we were talking, I heard the sounds of large objects being moved quickly, and doors opening and closing.

So, once again the vet took Catmatyx, purring happily, through the door.

Once again, there was that ratcheting sound that vibrated the door and windows.

I heard an electric razor buzzing under that ratchet sound, and then a full throated roar that would have cowed a full grown lion, followed by a series of hissing spits that no doubt translated as "Ia! Ia! Cthulu fthagn!". Bodies thumped against the door and someone back there screamed so shrilly I couldn't tell if it was the vet or one of the aids.

There was some shouting going on and some heavy furniture fell over. There was a loud metallic crash, and then total silence as you heard a metal platter roll around its rim as it spun down, just like in the cartoons.

And then, into that silence, I heard this huge cat (tiger? sabertooth?) mrrraaour loudly in what could only be that cat saying, "From Hell's heart I stab at thee!"

The vet never did come back.

An aid with blood spatters on her lab coat carried him in.

Every hair on his little body was on end and not touching, an amazing feat considering how dense his coat was. He saw me, and there was this plaintive little, "mo-o-o-o-o-om", and suddenly he was in my arms, his teeny head buried between my elbow and waist, his tail all bottle-brushed out. There was a bald spot on the back of his neck with a wet little wound in the middle of a bump, oozing some yellow pus.

The aid stood near the door, her hand on the knob. "It'll ooze for a few days. The vet left some medicine and instructions on the check in counter for you. Don't worry about paying today, we'll send you the bill."

Catmatyx calmed down as soon as she left the room. I walked into the empty waiting room and saw a tube of ointment and a vial of pills on the counter on a piece of paper. Sure enough, Catmatyx's meds and instructions and a follow-up appointment with a notation that said, "You don't have to bring him back if it's healing well." At the bottom, the vet had scrawled, "Better luck treating him." Shouldn't he have said, "good luck" in stead of "better luck"?

I leaned over the counter to call out to ask a question, and then decided against it. Through the door, I could just see an overturned table with stuff spilled on the linoleum floor, syringes and bowls scattered, and not one single cage. When we brought the dogs in, there were rows of filled cages back there, and I'd sometimes see some of the critters being treated. That was odd.

When I got home, I called my then husband to tell him Catmatyx was all done and had a poor little bald spot.

Everything went well. Catmatyx's abscess healed cleanly and his fur grew back as thick and soft as ever. We didn't have to take him back to the vet for a follow-up.

We took him to the pound for his vaccinations because it was cheaper than the vet's. It's what we did with all the critters - the pound for cheap vaccinations, the vet for everything else.

Over the next few weeks, we heard rumors of what happened at the vet's office on the other side of the examining room door. They must have been exaggerating. Catmatyx was a cute teeny kitten. There's no way he could have wreaked the havoc and invoked the fear rumors attributed to him.

And then it was time to get Catmatyx neutered.

We took him to the same vet clinic, in walking distance from the house, but our usual vet wasn't there. It was his new partner, a young man fresh out of vet school from Stillwater.

I don't know how many of y'all know Stillwater, OK, but when folks say "podunk", they mean someplace like Stillwater. It's a college town, but it practically shuts down at 9:00 p.m., except Game Nights. It's quiet, and rural, and chasing skunks in a pick-up is considered an exciting time.

We were still convinced Catmatyx was a sweet kitty. He was gentle, and he purred a lot, and he was growing into a gorgeous cat. He never strayed across a street, staying inside the block we lived on. Back in those days (30 years ago), there was a lot less traffic, and it wasn't so dangerous for kitties to roam outdoors. Our neighbors adored him, and the elderly woman living behind us kept telling us how she loved rocking on her back porch with him curled up in her lap.

After this visit, we knew there was a whole other side to Catmatyx.

Oh sure, it started out normal enough. Catmatyx had grown to weigh about 7 pounds - the vet let me go back with him to weigh him, and let me hold him when he was given his tranquilizer in preparation for the anesthesia.

I laid Catmatyx in the holding cage until the vet was ready to neuter him and left to work.

Everything was fine.

Until I got a phone call at work.

The aid sounded breathless as she said, "The vet wants to know if your cat has ever had an idiosyncratic reaction to tranquilizers before?"

He'd never been tranked, so I couldn't answer her question. It was very noisy, dogs barking, cats yowling, but it was that way last time, too, remember?

Not 20 minutes later, I get another call from the vet. "Ummm, does your cat have a problem with dogs?"

No, we had 2 mutts in the backyard, and the neighbors had yellow labs.

She sounded kind of unsure and worried as she said, "Umm, OK then." It was noisier than last time, they must have been really busy. I appreciated her taking time to call over such little things. They were taking really good care of Catmatyx.

An hour later, I get a frantic call from the vet's, "Could you come get your cat? NOW?"

I asked if he was finished and out from anesthesia and she practically shouted, "Of course he is! Can't you hear him!?"

I heard a cat, roaring and carrying on, but that cat was way louder than Catmatyx had ever been. He was a soft-meowed kitty, sweet little squeaks and purrs, but mostly he was becoming quietly dignified, as befitted a cat wearing a tux. That wasn't Catmatyx.

Was it?

So, I arranged to get off work and go fetch the silly little thing.

I could hear the animals out in the parking lot with the car windows rolled up, and it only got louder as I entered the building. The windows were bulging from the sound.

Winding over it and through it all was this - awesome - wailing that raised the small hairs on the back of my neck. Perhaps "wailing" is too weak a word - it was the sound you heard around a flickering fire with dancing figures silhouetted against the night sky and you knew, as your intestines knotted inside you, that here was the foundation of the rituals that summoned chthonic gods. The rising and falling vowel sound was the root sound of every grimoire's secret chants. Uriel, Ramie, Imimi, Eimar, Leiru That was one awesome cat. I had goosebumps.

The aid took me straight back. "We're all afraid of your cat," she said.

My cat? Surely not.

There he was, crouched at the front of his cage, tail tip twitching. He opened his mouth, saw me, and the teeniest little "mo-o-o-om" came out. The dog three cages over stopped barking and was panting. My little kitty turned to look at him, and he started frantically yowling and jumping against the bars of his cage - as far from Catmatyx as he could get.

As I looked around, I noticed all the caged animals were as far from Catmatyx as they could get, and desperately trying to get further away.

I opened the cage door, and heard the aid behind me gasp.

Catmatyx raised up pitifully for me to pick him up, and head-butted my hand.

The aid backed away carefully, keeping her distance.

I mentioned how long it usually took dogs to be fixed, and the aid confided that it usually took cats that long, too, but Catmatyx was an exception.

I paid for him and was getting in my car when the new vet came outside. "Um, that's some cat you have."

"Yeah, isn't he a sweetie?"

"That's the last thing I'd say. He wresisted the tranquilizer, and he riled up every animal in the building. You heard it in there. You hear anything now?"

He was right - it had gotten quiet.

"But look at him - he's such a gentleman!"

"Apparently only for you. He should still be sleeping off the anesthesia, but here he is - wide awake and alert, ready to rip my head off if I move the wrong way." And he proved it by moving closer.

Catmatyx rose in my arms, a low growl coming from the depths of hell and out of his mouth. In cat-speak, he was saying, "There will be blood."

I looked at Catmatyx in shock. He knew language I'd never taught him.

Fortunately for veterinarians around town, Catmatyx lived a long healthy life.

But there were other times when his demon nature manifested.

On Sunday, I made a pot roast using a nice chunk of buffalo, tiny white potatoes, new baby carrots, fresh shelled peas, and fresh whole corn. After supper, I sliced enough for sandwiches for the week, then intended to allow the rest to cool so I could chop it for making pot pies.

I left the pot roast cooling on the prep table. It's a little lower than the countertops, but there are no chairs. While it cooled, I went out to mow the back yard. Shika and Itzl stayed indoors so they'd not get hurt.

When I came in, both Shika and Itzl were sprawled on the prep table, their bellies all bloated with pot roast.

Sad thing is, Monday morning, they wanted food again, giving me those "you never feed us" eyes, you know - the ones where there's the subtext of "not the good stuff, you don't".

I didn't get to make pot pies, just a stew.

I heard from my youngest, who told me his troop took enemy fire yesterday.  Their MRAP is now out of service, missing a front fender and tire.  That's all he told me about.  Only one soldier was hurt, the one who was napping without his helmet.

I suppose, if they felt safe enough to remove armor and nap, it's not so terribly bad.

Now, the boy has a better war story than shooting camel spiders and feeding stray dogs and eating home cooked meals.  He really hated those home cooked meals.  I can imagine how tough it was for him, because he never liked my cooking - too many spices, too many different foods all mixed up.  And now, he's on hospitality duty and having to eat all manner of dolmahs, beryani, and koftehs.

He probably thinks the food is the worst part of being at war.  I know when he got to come visit for a week, he wanted to eat nothing but hamburgers and pizzas.

He's taken lots of friendly fire.  He even has a scar from one incident.  He was hurt far worse by his own people than ever by the people designated as enemies.

Still, however, you look at it, my baby took enemy fire.

Every person I befriended in school and college has now died of assorted things from suicides to accidents to age-related diseases. I no longer have any friends close to my own age.  The ones still alive are approximately 20 years younger than me or younger.

I never thought I'd outlive my oldest friends, the ones who've been there for me since I was a stupid and awkward pre-teen or teen, or emergent young adult.  I never expected to die young, either, given my genetic make-up, but I did truly expect to grow old with these people - to have at least another decade or three with them.

The last of my childhood friends died yesterday.  There's no one left alive who was a child with me, no one with whom I can reminisce about the "old days", no one who shared my teachers and professors and dreams.

I sat vigil over her death, as I've done for so many of my family and friends, and I'll preside over her memorial service by her last wishes.

All the rest of you who are still alive - you're all too young to die.  So, you better not die while I'm still alive, you hear me?

The Declaration of Independence

When in the Course of human events it becomes necessary for one people to dissolve the political bands which have connected them with another and to assume among the powers of the earth, the separate and equal station to which the Laws of Nature and of Nature's God entitle them, a decent respect to the opinions of mankind requires that they should declare the causes which impel them to the separation.

We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness. — That to secure these rights, Governments are instituted among Men, deriving their just powers from the consent of the governed, — That whenever any Form of Government becomes destructive of these ends, it is the Right of the People to alter or to abolish it, and to institute new Government, laying its foundation on such principles and organizing its powers in such form, as to them shall seem most likely to effect their Safety and Happiness. (my emphasis, as it is relevant to modern issues at hand) Prudence, indeed, will dictate that Governments long established should not be changed for light and transient causes; and accordingly all experience hath shewn that mankind are more disposed to suffer, while evils are sufferable than to right themselves by abolishing the forms to which they are accustomed. But when a long train of abuses and usurpations, pursuing invariably the same Object evinces a design to reduce them under absolute Despotism, it is their right, it is their duty, to throw off such Government, and to provide new Guards for their future security. — Such has been the patient sufferance of these Colonies; and such is now the necessity which constrains them to alter their former Systems of Government. The history of the present King of Great Britain is a history of repeated injuries and usurpations, all having in direct object the establishment of an absolute Tyranny over these States. To prove this, let Facts be submitted to a candid world.

He has refused his Assent to Laws, the most wholesome and necessary for the public good.

He has forbidden his Governors to pass Laws of immediate and pressing importance, unless suspended in their operation till his Assent should be obtained; and when so suspended, he has utterly neglected to attend to them.

He has refused to pass other Laws for the accommodation of large districts of people, unless those people would relinquish the right of Representation in the Legislature, a right inestimable to them and formidable to tyrants only.

He has called together legislative bodies at places unusual, uncomfortable, and distant from the depository of their Public Records, for the sole purpose of fatiguing them into compliance with his measures.

He has dissolved Representative Houses repeatedly, for opposing with manly firmness his invasions on the rights of the people.

He has refused for a long time, after such dissolutions, to cause others to be elected, whereby the Legislative Powers, incapable of Annihilation, have returned to the People at large for their exercise; the State remaining in the mean time exposed to all the dangers of invasion from without, and convulsions within.

He has endeavoured to prevent the population of these States; for that purpose obstructing the Laws for Naturalization of Foreigners; refusing to pass others to encourage their migrations hither, and raising the conditions of new Appropriations of Lands.

He has obstructed the Administration of Justice by refusing his Assent to Laws for establishing Judiciary Powers.

He has made Judges dependent on his Will alone for the tenure of their offices, and the amount and payment of their salaries.

He has erected a multitude of New Offices, and sent hither swarms of Officers to harass our people and eat out their substance.

He has kept among us, in times of peace, Standing Armies without the Consent of our legislatures.

He has affected to render the Military independent of and superior to the Civil Power.

He has combined with others to subject us to a jurisdiction foreign to our constitution, and unacknowledged by our laws; giving his Assent to their Acts of pretended Legislation:

For quartering large bodies of armed troops among us:

For protecting them, by a mock Trial from punishment for any Murders which they should commit on the Inhabitants of these States:

For cutting off our Trade with all parts of the world:

For imposing Taxes on us without our Consent:

For depriving us in many cases, of the benefit of Trial by Jury:

For transporting us beyond Seas to be tried for pretended offences:

For abolishing the free System of English Laws in a neighbouring Province, establishing therein an Arbitrary government, and enlarging its Boundaries so as to render it at once an example and fit instrument for introducing the same absolute rule into these Colonies

For taking away our Charters, abolishing our most valuable Laws and altering fundamentally the Forms of our Governments:

For suspending our own Legislatures, and declaring themselves invested with power to legislate for us in all cases whatsoever.

He has abdicated Government here, by declaring us out of his Protection and waging War against us.

He has plundered our seas, ravaged our coasts, burnt our towns, and destroyed the lives of our people.

He is at this time transporting large Armies of foreign Mercenaries to compleat the works of death, desolation, and tyranny, already begun with circumstances of Cruelty & Perfidy scarcely paralleled in the most barbarous ages, and totally unworthy the Head of a civilized nation.

He has constrained our fellow Citizens taken Captive on the high Seas to bear Arms against their Country, to become the executioners of their friends and Brethren, or to fall themselves by their Hands.

He has excited domestic insurrections amongst us, and has endeavoured to bring on the inhabitants of our frontiers, the merciless Indian Savages whose known rule of warfare, is an undistinguished destruction of all ages, sexes and conditions.

In every stage of these Oppressions We have Petitioned for Redress in the most humble terms: Our repeated Petitions have been answered only by repeated injury. A Prince, whose character is thus marked by every act which may define a Tyrant, is unfit to be the ruler of a free people.

Nor have We been wanting in attentions to our British brethren. We have warned them from time to time of attempts by their legislature to extend an unwarrantable jurisdiction over us. We have reminded them of the circumstances of our emigration and settlement here. We have appealed to their native justice and magnanimity, and we have conjured them by the ties of our common kindred to disavow these usurpations, which would inevitably interrupt our connections and correspondence. They too have been deaf to the voice of justice and of consanguinity. We must, therefore, acquiesce in the necessity, which denounces our Separation, and hold them, as we hold the rest of mankind, Enemies in War, in Peace Friends.

We, therefore, the Representatives of the united States of America, in General Congress, Assembled, appealing to the Supreme Judge of the world for the rectitude of our intentions, do, in the Name, and by Authority of the good People of these Colonies, solemnly publish and declare, That these united Colonies are, and of Right ought to be Free and Independent States, that they are Absolved from all Allegiance to the British Crown, and that all political connection between them and the State of Great Britain, is and ought to be totally dissolved; and that as Free and Independent States, they have full Power to levy War, conclude Peace, contract Alliances, establish Commerce, and to do all other Acts and Things which Independent States may of right do. — And for the support of this Declaration, with a firm reliance on the protection of Divine Providence, we mutually pledge to each other our Lives, our Fortunes, and our sacred Honor.

— John Hancock

New Hampshire:
Josiah Bartlett, William Whipple, Matthew Thornton

Massachusetts:
John Hancock, Samuel Adams, John Adams, Robert Treat Paine, Elbridge Gerry

Rhode Island:
Stephen Hopkins, William Ellery

Connecticut:
Roger Sherman, Samuel Huntington, William Williams, Oliver Wolcott

New York:
William Floyd, Philip Livingston, Francis Lewis, Lewis Morris

New Jersey:
Richard Stockton, John Witherspoon, Francis Hopkinson, John Hart, Abraham Clark

Pennsylvania:
Robert Morris, Benjamin Rush, Benjamin Franklin, John Morton, George Clymer, James Smith, George Taylor, James Wilson, George Ross

Delaware:
Caesar Rodney, George Read, Thomas McKean

Maryland:
Samuel Chase, William Paca, Thomas Stone, Charles Carroll of Carrollton

Virginia:
George Wythe, Richard Henry Lee, Thomas Jefferson, Benjamin Harrison, Thomas Nelson, Jr., Francis Lightfoot Lee, Carter Braxton

North Carolina:
William Hooper, Joseph Hewes, John Penn

South Carolina:
Edward Rutledge, Thomas Heyward, Jr., Thomas Lynch, Jr., Arthur Middleton

Georgia:
Button Gwinnett, Lyman Hall, George Walton

Couple that with Thomas Paine's quote:  It is the duty of the patriot to protect his country from its government. and it becomes understandable why our politicians don't want us to know or understand what our rights and responsibilities are.  They fear that we will justly rise up and quash them for contravening our Declaration of Independence which led to the founding of America.  This is the single most important document we have in our country - and yet, how many of us can recite it, how many of us understand it?  This should be required reading in each and every school and every schoolchild should have to memorize it and be able to quite from it at any  time, so well that as adults, the memory remains strong so we don't transgress upon it.

We're having our annual Fourth of Jewel-Eye Bubba-Que and Pay-tree-ought Reading today.  We'll have nasty things like Twinkie Pie (graham cracker crust, layer of sliced bananas, layer of whole Twinkies, vanilla pudding poured over the lot and garnished with sliced Twinkies and strawberries - horrible, nasty, delicious concoction) and yummy things like beer butt chicken, buffalo burgers, and grilled veggies, and during it, we'll recite the Declaration of Independence out loud, along with the Constitution, and have selected readings from our various Founders of America and other patriots throughout the years who've kept the American Dream alive.

The American Dream isn't 2.5 children in a suburban house and white picket fence with a brand new SUV in the garage.

The real American Dream is freedom.  We want to be free of unreasonable taxes, of government oppression, of a judicial and legal system that presumes guilt, a judicial system that is dependent upon the executive branch for its existence, of a plethora of government offices created simply to harass us (homeland security, and the TSA, anyone?), and other such grievances.

We will not forget our roots, our reason for the existence of America, if that means we have to cook food and have a party to get people to hear these important words, then that's what we'll do.  We should each of us take to heart the core of our Declaration of Independence:  Governments are instituted among Men, deriving their just powers from the consent of the governed, — That whenever any Form of Government becomes destructive of these ends, it is the Right of the People to alter or to abolish it, and to institute new Government and live as if these words were the law of the land, for truly, they are at the heart of all our just laws.

Hold your own Fourth of Jewel-Eye Bubba-Que and Pay-Tree-Ought Party, too.  Cook American foods and read American words that matter and remember, the American Dream is FREEDOM.

I have children who deeply believe this and are serving in our military in the hopes of upholding our American Dream.  I have other children who are serving the Dream in other ways, and I, too, serve the Dream, with barbecue sauce to new generations of Americans.  Save the American Dream and support it and keep it alive and healthy in any way you can - through serious debate, voting, jokes, and yes, food.  Any way that keeps it in the forefront of our minds and in our hearts.

The American Dream matters.  Keep it alive.

1. What was I doing 10 years ago?

I was working tech support, raising kids, and had just purchased a house for the first time in my life.  Did I visit John that year, or was it a year or two earlier?  My lamentable memory....

2. What are 5 things on my to-do list for today?

1.  Feed critters.  The whole menagerie, for some odd reason, wants to eat each and every day.
2.  Weed the gardens.  It's not just animals that show up on my doorstep begging for a home, I get all kinds of plants taking up residence in my yard because they like it. 
3.  Pack up shoes and cookies to ship to Iraq.  Cookies go on the first of every month.  The shoes were misdelivered to my house and need to be sent on their merry way.
4.  Read blogs and email and answer them.
5.  Relax and enjoy the evening.  I've already put in a 10-hour day at work.

3. Snacks I enjoy:

Most anything except okra.  My current snack du jour is cucumbers or radishes dipped in ghee or olive oil and sprinkled with coarse flaked salt and finely chopped herbs - whatever I grabbed as I came in the front door.  They make me burp a lot, but the menagerie doesn't care.

4. Things I would do if I were a billionaire:

Since I haven't a clue how to leverage it into more money, I'd probably squander it on building an intentional community and supporting my favorite charities. 

5. Places I have lived:

Sontheim, Germany, Heilbronn, Germany, Hoeckelheim, Germany, London, England, Norfolk, England, Rotterdam, Holland, Salerno, Italy, Brest, France, Les Cles, Switzerland, Terrasa, Spain, Thessaloniki, Greece, Mesquite, Texas, Grand Prairie, Texas, Arlington, Texas, Austin, Texas, Burbank, California, Oklahoma City, Oklahoma, Bethany, Oklahoma, Warr Acres, Oklahoma

5. A) Places I have visited:

There's not enough space.  Suffice it to say I have been many places outside the US, and a few within it.  Not near as many places in the US as outside of it.

6. Jobs I have had:

Starting at the beginning, I was goosegirl for the village of Hoeckelheim.  I advanced up to chicken feeder and beheader, then pig castrator, then baker's apprentice, then apothecary's apprentice.  I advanced to master, then was sent to the US, where I did fast food (Long John Silver's and Chick-Fil-A), then became secretary to a history prof on campus, then a research assistant for another prof, then a personal chef for an advertising mogul, then got to be the artist for that advertising company (won a couple of graphic awards), sold vacuum cleaners (I sucked at that), then worked in both oil law records and a law library, took a break to have cancer and kids, then did temp jobs until I was hired by an insurance company, freelanced writing employee handbooks and training manuals (still do that), worked as tech support for a well-known internet service, and now work at a school.

7. Bloggers I am tagging who I will enjoy getting to know better:

BrigidsBlest, Kath the Puppeteer, Wolfrose.

Here's the process I use to weave lavender wands.  They are also called Lavender Bottles.  I use them to lay among the linens and clothes folded into drawers to give them a fresh scent.

The first step is to harvest the lavender blooms and sort them.  Here, I've set out 13 stems of lavender blooms.  I prefer using 13 rather than 15 or 17 because I have plump blossoms and the more blooms you use, the bulkier the "bottle" will be and the less likely your ribbon will cover them well.

So, I mostly use 13 stems.  If the blooms are skimpy, I'll use more stems.

These are unprocessed stems.  If you'll look, you'll see there are "strays" down the stems.  From the bottom of the main blossom end down to the end of the stem, I strip stray leaves and the odd lavender bud so the stems are smooth all the way down.

Once I've finished stripping these stems, I'll come back and post the next step.

Once the stems have been stripped smooth, it's time to tie them together in preparation for weaving them.

I use extra narrow ribbon, the kind that's usually 50¢ a spool.  Any color will do.  Here, I'm using hot pink to contrast with the gray green and purple of the lavender.

Measure out enough ribbon to be slightly more than 3 times the length of the longest stem of lavender in your bundle, then tie the ribbon just below the blooms, 1/3 to one side and 2/3 to the other side.  The 1/3 section will hang down with the stems and be used after the bottle is woven,  The 2/3 length of ribbon will be the side used to weave the bottle.

The next step will show the beginning weave.

Once the lavender stems are tied together, it's time to start weaving them.

When I was taught how to do this, I was told to use a separate string to tie the lavender blooms together, then bend the stems down immediately, using a bottle with the buds inside the bottle in order to begin the weave.

I never liked that method.

What I do is use the actual ribbon I'll weave with to tie the lavender stems together, then when I start weaving, I only bend down the stems I'm working with in the very beginning.  This is because I find I have greater control over the spacing of the stems so I get a more even weave and I don't leave any stems out.

When you bend all the stems down at once, they get kind of lost in the blooms and I always ended up skipping a stem and coming up uneven.

By bending down only the stem I'm currently working with, I never lose any stems at all.

To start the weaving, bend down one stem, place the longer end of the ribbon over the stem, then bend a second stem down to hold the ribbon in place.  Fold the ribbon back over the stem holding it down and bend your third stem down so it will lie under the ribbon.  The 4th stem holds the ribbon down, the 5th stem is held down by the ribbon, and so it alternates until all the stems are bent down.

This photo shows where part of the stems are bent and part are still in process.

The next photo will show the bottle when it's further along in its weave.

Here is the finished lavender wand, from woven bloom head, called a "bottle", to the wrapped and tied off stem.

The longer your stems, the longer the wand.  This is a rather short wand because some of the stems were short.

In the next photo, you can see the difference between a short wand and a longer wand.

Here you can see the difference between a short wand and a long one.  The yellow one is the longer of the two (as if you couldn't tell!).

You can use any color ribbon.  You can probably use wider ribbon than I do, but I like the look of the narrow ribbons,

I usually make lavender wands from the first harvest of lavender because the stems tend to be the longest and cleanest from the first blooming.  Since I only have 1 lavender plant (small garden), I get about dozen wands from that first harvest.

Second and subsequent harvests, I dry the lavender and use the dried buds for cooking and baking.  The dried stems get broken up into muslin sachets because even the stems of lavender are fragrant and the fragrance holds at least a year for the stems.

I plan to move and expand my lavender bed next year, so the year after next. I should have a truly abundant harvest.

http://www.chron.com/disp/story.mpl/bizarre/5814092.html

**Ed Patrick of Taylor Publishing, which printed the book, said his company is responsible for the errors and will provide free stickers printed with the correct names.

"It happens all the time, every year," Patrick said. "Look at any yearbook in the country."**

Yanno what? That’s no excuse.

People oversee computers for a reason – and misspelled names in a high school yearbook is far from benign. The angst and anguish suffered by teens still in the grip of finding themselves can be devastating, and if we take a long term view of it, how will these easily corrected errors affect future acts such as criminal investigations into missing persons or when those stickers fall off and grandchildren can’t find their grandparents’ photos? It doesn’t take that much effort to ensure a name is spelled correctly in a yearbook.

This kind of sloppiness is pervasive. Mr. Patrick should be seriously reprimanded for coping to the “everyone else does it” plea. It didn’t work on parents, why should it work in businesses?

http://www.cnn.com/2008/LIVING/wayoflife/05/28/renters.booted/index.html

These are the new homeless people we've been helping because they are the least prepared to be homeless. Our strategies have changed from keeping them fed and "climate controlled" (warm in winter, cool in summer), and helping them resolve debt issues or employment issues, and possibly dealing with the courts over adjusting child support payments and garnished wages, and only down the list helping them find homes to helping them secure storage for their belongings (and they clandestinely sleep in the storage places) and getting them re-homed ASAP - most choose to buy a home because they don't want to be left unexpectedly homeless again. And many are angry enough to sue their former landlords for the loss of a residence and breaching their lease agreements and pain and suffering.

I don't know what good that will do - these landlords couldn't pay the mortgage with the rent money, how will they pay legal fees?

Most of the unexpectedly working homeless aren't poor. They don't necessarily need food so much as they need emotional support and a new place to live. They have good credit histories, good rental histories, well-paying jobs (in most cases); they just haven't a clue how to cope in the time between eviction and the time they get a new place. It can take 2 -3 months to process a mortgage loan - longer still to find a house they want, although a few will take whatever they can get with the idea they may be able to negotiate a better house later. Just getting a stable home back is all that matters to them.

We try to help them find a home in roughly the same neighborhood and school districts because it's easier on their kids.

And this influx of homeless doesn't alter or reduce the other sources of homelessness.

Those people also still need help - lawyers, food, a home, coping skills...

I encountered the weirdest roadkill ever for a land-locked state - sea bass.

Right there, on the side of the road, big and still wet from the water. There is no sea bass in Oklahome that I'm aware of, nore were our winds ever strong enough in the last few days to blow on in. The way he lay, he looked as if he'd been hit by a passing car and spun into his death pose there across the outside lane, straddling the painted line.

Not being a forensics scientist, I couldn't tell if he was dead before the car hit him or if the car caused his demise.

I shall probably never know.

Now, though, I have this interesting story idea....it would fit most excellently into my "Thousand Days to Freedom" novel, which desperately needed something to counterpoint the Sand Dancers. Roadkill fish will also help carry the theme of the novel in a place where it was weak and needed reinforcement. One scene, just one scene, with roadkill fish, and it moves the whole novel forward to a point I'd been trying to reach for more than a year.

Poor fish, having to be washed up onto a back street in Oklahoma to help a struggling novelist make a literary point.

Nice fish, for sacrificing its life to further my novel.

I will not let your death be in vain. I may give you *two* scenes in my novel.